Five – 01

Four riders from the Wild Hunt clattered onto the open field in front of the gates one chilly afternoon as storm clouds gathered on the horizon. I was perched on the wall when they arrived, watching the clouds roll in, and their leader spotted me, lifting his arm in greeting. I nodded and came down from the wall, crossing the snow to meet his party as they dismounted.

“Seamus said you would come,” I said without preamble, shoving my hands deep into my pockets and squinting in the rapidly fading light. “What’s happened? What’s going on?”

“The ice on the water is cracking,” Vasily said, his Russian accent thick but not unintelligible. “And not because of a thaw.”

I stared at him for a long moment, uncomprehending, then turned my gaze toward his companions, Quintus, Marlowe, and Horace. All three men looked equally grim, exchanging silent looks with each other as they each pretended to be too busy with their horses to bother with my questions. It was an act, of course, but their discomfort shot shivers up and down my spine.

What could frighten the Wild Hunt?

Something that would likely take the heart out of me, that was all but certain.

“What’s out there, Vasily?” I asked, my voice soft. “What’s cracking the ice? Something beneath it?”

Da,” he said, his voice as soft as mine. “Forgive me, koldun’ya, but it is bad news we bring, not good.”

“We thought you might,” I assured him. “What is it? Did you see it?”

“Just its eye,” he whispered. “It stared right at us and I felt cold to the depths of my soul. That eye was the size of a man, the color of ice in the sunshine. I’ve heard tales of such creatures, but I’ve never seen one.” He stared at me, face pale as the snow beneath our boots.

“Odinson and Sif will know,” he whispered. “They’ll know what it is, and hopefully how to kill it. Else…”

I shivered. I didn’t know what he’d meant to say, but it didn’t matter. I caught his meaning regardless.

Whatever was out there was trouble—and this time, we’d be facing it alone.

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