like a thousand biting insects, making his eyes water and his face go numb.
“I’m free. I don’t believe it – I’m free!” Herya said, but the whistling of the wind stole her words away.
“What?” Zac asked, straining his ears.
“Nothing,” Herya said, raising her voice to be heard above the storm. “Uh-oh.”
“
Uh-oh?
What do you mean,
uh-oh
?”
“We’ve got company,” she said as eight winged figures swooped across the sky behind them.
Zac squinted ahead through the snowstorm. He could see the writhing shapes of Angelo and Odin, still locked in battle, still unaware of the drop into nothingness that lay ahead of them. The sound of each thunderous punch and kick rolled across Asgard. It was surely only a matter of time before the other gods emerged from their palaces to find out what all the racket was about. Zac tried not to think what would happen then.
“Go right!” Herya barked, snapping him back to the present.
“What? Why?”
“Stop asking questions and
go right
!”
Zac threw his weight sharply to one side. He heard a short, sharp scream, followed by a
crunch
. He risked a glance back and saw a Viking lying face down on the hard-packed snow, unmoving.
“What the Hell—” he began, before a cry of “
Geronimo!”
and a loud
whumpf
cut him off. Another Viking plopped into a soft snowdrift just off to the left of the trench.
Zac looked up and saw the eight Valkyries cutting through the sky above them. Six of them carried Vikings, who dangled from the Valkyries’ grip, wildly waggling their weapons at the world below.
As Zac watched, one of the Valkyries dropped the man she was carrying. He screamed as he fell, only stopping when he smacked down on to the compacted snow, just a dozen or so metres ahead of them.
“Hold on!” Zac warned, leaning sharply left. Herya gave a yelp of shock as she was thrown off balance. Not looking back, Zac reached round and grabbed her leg, steadying her.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Don’t mention it.”
They swept past the groaning Viking and Zac snatched up the Norseman’s sword. It clattered into the bowl of the shield between him and Herya.
“Might come in handy,” he explained, biting his lip and leaning his weight towards the front of the shield. It immediately sped up until the snow around them became a streak of blurry white.
They were drawing closer to the god and the demon, but they in turn were now only thirty or forty metres from the edge. The slope was levelling off, slowing their descent, but there was no way they were going to stop in time.
“How
dare
you!” screeched one of the Valkyries above. “How dare you defy the ruler of the gods!”
“Just the Norse gods, actuall-
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
!” said the Viking she was carrying, and then he hit the ice in front of the shield with a
thud
. There was no way to avoid him. Both Zac and Herya heard a faint
crunch
as they slid over the top of him.
“Ooh, that had to hurt,” Zac winced. He very deliberately didn’t look back.
“Four more coming in low,” Herya warned. There was a
splat
from somewhere back up the slope. “Make that three.”
“We’re almost there!” Zac shouted. Over the sounds of the storm he could hear Odin’s voice now, cursing and swearing as he wrestled with his ‘dragon’. The hissing and screeching he could also hear was Angelo, Zac guessed. Only something truly demonic could make those sounds.
“Left, left, left!” Herya cried. They both leaned left just as Jurgen hit the ground beside them. He landed on his feet, skidded frantically for a few wild-eyed moments, then his legs went in opposite directions and he did the splits on the ice.
“Right, right, right!” They leaned again, narrowly avoiding a seventh Viking bomb. His fingers clawed for the edge of the shield, but they were sliding too fast for him to hold on.
“One more,” Herya said.
Zac gave a curt nod, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. They were barely fifteen metres from
“I’m free. I don’t believe it – I’m free!” Herya said, but the whistling of the wind stole her words away.
“What?” Zac asked, straining his ears.
“Nothing,” Herya said, raising her voice to be heard above the storm. “Uh-oh.”
“
Uh-oh?
What do you mean,
uh-oh
?”
“We’ve got company,” she said as eight winged figures swooped across the sky behind them.
Zac squinted ahead through the snowstorm. He could see the writhing shapes of Angelo and Odin, still locked in battle, still unaware of the drop into nothingness that lay ahead of them. The sound of each thunderous punch and kick rolled across Asgard. It was surely only a matter of time before the other gods emerged from their palaces to find out what all the racket was about. Zac tried not to think what would happen then.
“Go right!” Herya barked, snapping him back to the present.
“What? Why?”
“Stop asking questions and
go right
!”
Zac threw his weight sharply to one side. He heard a short, sharp scream, followed by a
crunch
. He risked a glance back and saw a Viking lying face down on the hard-packed snow, unmoving.
“What the Hell—” he began, before a cry of “
Geronimo!”
and a loud
whumpf
cut him off. Another Viking plopped into a soft snowdrift just off to the left of the trench.
Zac looked up and saw the eight Valkyries cutting through the sky above them. Six of them carried Vikings, who dangled from the Valkyries’ grip, wildly waggling their weapons at the world below.
As Zac watched, one of the Valkyries dropped the man she was carrying. He screamed as he fell, only stopping when he smacked down on to the compacted snow, just a dozen or so metres ahead of them.
“Hold on!” Zac warned, leaning sharply left. Herya gave a yelp of shock as she was thrown off balance. Not looking back, Zac reached round and grabbed her leg, steadying her.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Don’t mention it.”
They swept past the groaning Viking and Zac snatched up the Norseman’s sword. It clattered into the bowl of the shield between him and Herya.
“Might come in handy,” he explained, biting his lip and leaning his weight towards the front of the shield. It immediately sped up until the snow around them became a streak of blurry white.
They were drawing closer to the god and the demon, but they in turn were now only thirty or forty metres from the edge. The slope was levelling off, slowing their descent, but there was no way they were going to stop in time.
“How
dare
you!” screeched one of the Valkyries above. “How dare you defy the ruler of the gods!”
“Just the Norse gods, actuall-
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
!” said the Viking she was carrying, and then he hit the ice in front of the shield with a
thud
. There was no way to avoid him. Both Zac and Herya heard a faint
crunch
as they slid over the top of him.
“Ooh, that had to hurt,” Zac winced. He very deliberately didn’t look back.
“Four more coming in low,” Herya warned. There was a
splat
from somewhere back up the slope. “Make that three.”
“We’re almost there!” Zac shouted. Over the sounds of the storm he could hear Odin’s voice now, cursing and swearing as he wrestled with his ‘dragon’. The hissing and screeching he could also hear was Angelo, Zac guessed. Only something truly demonic could make those sounds.
“Left, left, left!” Herya cried. They both leaned left just as Jurgen hit the ground beside them. He landed on his feet, skidded frantically for a few wild-eyed moments, then his legs went in opposite directions and he did the splits on the ice.
“Right, right, right!” They leaned again, narrowly avoiding a seventh Viking bomb. His fingers clawed for the edge of the shield, but they were sliding too fast for him to hold on.
“One more,” Herya said.
Zac gave a curt nod, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. They were barely fifteen metres from
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