Glacius Frostmaw's Arc

Chapter 13 of 14

The siblings ran through open snow until the trees thinned ahead. Beyond the last pines lay bare ground and a long white slope. Glacius slowed. He knew what waited there. The blind war-leader had ridden hard to reach the edge first. Now a single figure stood where the trees ended. Khar Ironforge waited alone. His massive frame blocked the gap. He held his great axe loose in both hands, head tilted, listening. The horses were gone. His men were scattered behind on the slope. He had come ahead by himself. "You made good time," he said. "I made better." "Let us pass," Glacius said. "No." Khar turned his blank white eyes toward the sound. "You took my sight at the fort. I owe you your head." He said it plainly, like a fact about the weather. Skara pulled Throk back among the trees. Glacius stepped forward alone. He drew the dragon-heart sword. Its eyes glowed pale blue, and the runes woke along the blade. He had no frost now. He had only steel and purpose. Khar heard the blade clear its sheath. "That's the sword," he said. "Not the magic. Good. The magic was loud. Steel is quiet." He moved, and for a blind man he moved fast. The axe swung. Glacius ducked and felt the wind of it. He struck back and hit only air. Khar had already shifted, tracking his boots in the snow. Glacius froze. He made no sound. He held his breath and waited. Khar stopped too. The two of them stood still in the white silence. Khar's head turned, hunting for a footstep, a breath, a heartbeat. Glacius fixed his mind on one thing. His family alive, past this last man. The runes brightened in his grip. Then Glacius shouted and threw himself right. Khar's axe chopped toward the noise. It bit deep into a pine trunk and stuck. In that half-second Glacius drove the blade in under the war-leader's arm, through the gap in his armor. Khar grunted. He let go of the axe. His hand found Glacius's shoulder and gripped hard, then slid off. He sank to his knees in the snow. "Quiet," he said. "You learned." His head dropped. He fell forward and did not rise. Glacius stood over him, breathing hard. The slope beyond the trees lay empty and open. No riders. No ring. He pulled the blade free and wiped it clean. Skara came out from the pines with Throk behind her. "He's the last of them," she said. She looked down the open country. "The low road is ours now." Glacius sheathed the awakened sword. The hunter was dead. But the blade still needed its true test, the one Oskar spoke of. To finish what he had forged, he had to carry it back to the summit and prove its edge against the ancient ice. The way down was clear. The harder climb waited above.