What the hell is he?
This is not a pixie. I still don’t know a lot about us but I know that we can’t change into this form. We aren’t so tall. We aren’t made of fire but instead, like humans, we are made of flesh and bone and need.
I swallow hard and grab Nick’s fur to keep him from lunging forward. He doesn’t pull away because he probably knows that to pull away would give us up for attack. He grunts softly just as another giant man-thing steps into the first one’s path. This one’s not on fire but he’s just as huge. Blue hair hangs from his head. Bare forearms that are larger than my thighs ripple with the movement of his muscles. His boots strap up his legs and seem to be made of fur. His skin is as white as the snow and a helmet obscures most of his head. He raises a two-headed ax thing that’s covered with ice. He roars.
The woods bristle.
These things are way worse than pixies.
Way.
Worse.
I will not be afraid of monsters … I will not be afraid of monsters … I will not be afraid …
But fear overtakes me. It’s like a punch that comes from the inside and tries to pound its way out. One second passes. It is the longest second in the universe. Nick’s muscles tighten the way they do right before he attacks. I drop to the ground and wrap my arms around him. He struggles against me halfheartedly, I think, and then gives up just as the first giant man, the red-hot one, swings his sword toward the icy guy. They clash. The sound is almost as loud as thunder, but more metallic. Steam rises from where their weapons meet.
I think my mouth drops open, because my teeth suddenly hurt from the cold and snow is falling on my tongue. The orange giant raises his sword above his head and charges. The frosty one lifts his ax and deflects the blow. Metal hits metal. Again, steam rises from where their weapons meet. One of them, the fiery one, roars and the trees shake. A branch above our heads catches fire, it pops and sizzles and then the entire thing is engulfed, flames raging high.
I stagger backward, pulling Nick with me. And he actually lets me. He would never do that before; he’d be surging forward, joining in the fight or guarding me. Now he is just as scared as I am, I think. The fire sizzles above us and to the left, and suddenly the air is much warmer. The branch cracks off the tree and falls to the snow, smoldering. It’s black and twisted.
That’s when it hits me: they really are giants, not just giant men, but giants. Both warriors wear chain mail; links and links of it surround their massive chests. Weapons slash against each other, and the mail seems to withstand it until … They both thrust forward. The ax cleaves down on the frosty one’s shoulder and neck. The movement leaves the fire giant open for a thrust to his chest. The sword sticks into his pecs and stays. Steam flies up to the air as the fire giant falls to the ground. One second later the frosty giant slumps to his knees and then keels over backward. Blood gushes out of his neck.
The world is quiet except for the frosty giant’s harsh, gurgling breaths. Nick whimpers. I let go of my hold around his neck. “Okay. Be careful though.”
He rushes forward, sniffs cautiously at the fire giant and abandons him. He must be dead. He is still. I don’t hear him breathing. But the other one?
“Pixie.” The icy giant gasps out the word. “Zara of the willow, the stars, the White.”
My name. He knows my name. I look to Nick, who has rushed to the frosty giant’s side and is sniffing at the ax, at his wound. Nick makes a soft whining noise into the still-burning air. I move forward, finally no longer frozen. The giant is sprawled across the snow. His beard is icy in some places, singed in others.
“We’ll get you help,” I say, grabbing his hand. It is like touching frozen metal. My skin adheres to it almost. His eyes are ice, dying and unfeeling. His muscles limp. We both know it’s too late for help. Plus, what kind of help could I even get? An ambulance? For a giant man of frost?
I maneuver myself so I can lift his head up off the ground a little bit, but the blood just rushes out more. Which is a good thing, I think, because taking a long time to die a painful death could never be right.
“How do you know my name?” I blurt.
He doesn’t answer that.
“What can I do?” I beg him. “Tell me how to help you.”
His breath shallows. Beyond us, the fire giant’s body hisses in the snow. This one’s mouth moves and each word seems a tremendous exertion of will, of effort. “Loki will escape the cavern. You will die. Must. Stop.”
I will die? Me specifically?
“Loki?” I search for answers in the empty eyes. “The Norse god, Loki?”
His nod is just the tiniest of movements. His voice is so quiet I have to lean closer and cock my ear to hear him. “Ragnarok will come. Here to warn the king … He must not …”
“Must not what? What?” My voice begs, pleads, is a cry into the night, but it doesn’t matter. His head falls into my lap. His body stills. There will be no more answers from him; not tonight, not ever.
“Thank you,” I whisper. My hands move to close his eyes. For a moment it is as if all his power, his cold will, echoes through me. The shock of it leaves me still. Frozen.
Then it is gone.
I don’t know what to do. Do I leave him here? What about the other one? Nick whines and paws the ground. I wipe my hand in the snow to try to get off the blood and then flip open my cell phone. No signal. Of course. I make an executive decision.
“We’ll go back. We’ll get help to move the bodies, then bury them. They’ll be okay here for a minute, right?” I ask Nick.
He pants, which I’m going to decide means yes.
I gently take the giant’s head out of my lap and place it on the ground. I kiss his cheek. “Good passage.”
It is all I can think to say. The snow behind me sizzles from the smoldering branch next to the other giant’s body. Something is off here. As I turn to look, the giant himself suddenly bursts into flames. Nick yelps and scrambles backward, paws sliding on the earth. Then, just as quickly as it started, the fire is gone and the giant is gone with it. All that’s left is a black smudge on the ground. When I turn back to look at the frosty giant, he’s gone too. There’s just a pile of snow. I reach through it, feel for him, but there’s only vapor.
“This. Is. So. Weird,” I mumble. “This is Twilight Zone weird, freaky sci-fi weird. I’m not hallucinating, am I?”