Free Valkyrie Slumbering by L. VanHorn Page A

worried though, a smile creeps over his face. Then his eyes flick past me.
    Wings crack the air with enough force to rival the sound of thunder. Wind whips my hair forward, obscuring my view for a precious moment. I drop low, slide to the left, and spin around.
    Talons scrape the rock where I had just stood. They are attached to a reptilian foot that is half the size of my body. Silver scales fill the sky.
    “Kyra!” Grím screams from somewhere up the hill.
    My throat tightens. He can’t afford to allow himself to get distracted right now. “I’m fine!” I yell back.
    A cry of pain sets every nerve in my body on edge. My heart starts to beat again, though, when I hear the clash of swords. My attention is pulled away by a serpentine tail the size of a Viking’s torso that’s whipping toward me. Only a moment to crouch and spring up is barely enough, but I manage to sail high enough into the air to clear the beast’s tail. The slick scales skim my booted feet, sending me tumbling.
    Steel clangs against stone as my sword goes flying. I roll to my feet, drawing my dagger as I do so. The sight of the monster before me nearly makes me drop my horribly inadequate blade. Massive bat-like wings extend out from a body that is easily thirty feet from hindquarters to head. Horns curve back from a head held high with an almost regal air. Talons the size of my dagger adorn its four feet and fangs twice as long fill its elongated snout. Long jaws open wide, revealing row upon row of those horrible fangs.
    It looks like a mountain of silver scales that is about to swallow me whole. No matter how hard I will it, my body refuses to move. The fear this thing instills in me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Jaws opening wider, it reaches for me. Halfway to me, it stops, huge slanted eyes opening wide. A scream issues forth from it that causes a sharp pain in both my ears, then leaves them ringing.
    Lips curling up, eyes narrowing, it spins away. My wits return to me in a rush as I realize what distracted it.
    “Grím! Run!” I say.
    Dagger thrusting out before me, I leap for the níðhöggr’s belly. The scales are softer than they look. My blade plunges hilt deep into them, somewhere just between its front legs. But the beast is in mid-stride and as its tree trunk sized leg comes across, it slams into me. For a moment I’m weightless. Then I slam into the rocky ground with such force that my teeth clack together and pain explodes through my leg as something in it snaps.
    Wounded and weaponless, I can only watch as the níðhöggr turns toward Grím. He stands at the beast’s flank, trying to yank his sword free. Buried hilt deep as it is, there is no way it’s going to come out. That long neck snaps around with the speed of a whip, and its jaws close around Grím’s mid-section.
    A scream tears from me, leaving my throat bloody in its wake. Sunlight gleams off of a blade lying between me and the níðhöggr. The leather hilt of my sword beckons from no more than ten feet away. Swallowing my pain, I drag myself across the distance.
    When my hands close around the hilt, they’re shaking so hard I can barely grip it. Hearing Grím’s pain-filled cry gives me a strength I hadn’t known I possessed. Using my sword as a crutch, I stand and hobble my way to the níðhöggr. Even with the support of the sword every step is agony as the bones in my leg shift and cut into me. After an eternity I’m finally standing beside it. Balancing on my good leg, I raise my sword high. Every ounce of fury and pain within me adds speed to the swing. The blade cleaves deep into the beast’s neck until its spine slows the momentum.
    The  níðhöggr releases Grím as it screams. Scales flash and suddenly I’m on the ground again, an impossible weight on my chest.
    “No, no, no,” Grím chants in a thick voice from somewhere nearby.
    A dull pain, more of a pressure really, starts to spread out from my chest. I can’t sit up, or even roll