Infinite 01 - Infinite Sacrifice

they begin to come back toward me, I yell, “Get out of here!” and leap into the barley to run after the closest one.
    They run twice as fast with much grunting and strange panting noises and then completely disappear. I turn in a circle in the sea of barley, waiting for some movement, but none comes.
    “Liam!” I hear from behind me.
    I know it’s Thora’s voice immediately and run toward her. At the edge of the crop in a horse paddock, she lies there holding her round stomach and cries, “Seamus! Seamus!”
    Then something comes charging out of the woods. A beast, three times the height of the tallest horse and three times as long, rumbles forth with tree trunks for legs and a snake for a nose.
    Thora screams, “Mother!”
    The thing stomps at Thora and blows its snake in the air, making a powerful, thundering noise—as I freeze.
    ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
    There’s a great feast for the equinox, and everyone gathers for the festival in the village. Una and I are allowed to come, but we have to follow the family behind the wagon for the long way into town. Una has been to a festival before, and she says the walk is worth it, plus there’s a bright, full moon tonight. I have to lock Borga up in the dugout, and Una and I laugh when we can still hear her from the fence of the farm. The wagon, even with Inga, her children, Thora, Erna, and Rolf, is still much faster than Una and I can keep up with. After six farms, we let it go on as we walk quickly. All of the warning fires are lit across the hilltops and over the water, with a deep red sky simmering behind, making everything seem so fantastical.
    By the time we reach the towers, most of the town is already full. The guards look everyone over as they roll or stride by. I gather they’ve already started their own celebrations with the great quantity of mead I can smell from all the way down here.
    As we are walking by, one of the guards sees Una and yells, “I think I need to personally check that one. Come up here, girl!”
    The other one laughs as Una keeps walking through, ignoring them, but the guard pours his bowl of mead down onto both of us. We start to run as we follow the line of torches and regroup by the fire in the center of the Great Hall.
    “Now if we rolled around in manure, we would smell just like the guards!” I shout over the noise and laugh, wiping the mead out of my eyes.
    She smiles. “Shh! Listen to the music!”
    There are a few men playing bone flutes of all different sizes, whistling together in a light, fast melody. When the song ends, everyone in the circle claps while people pass behind us, pushing us into those standing in front of us. It’s like swimming in a crashing sea, trying to keep from colliding against the rocks. The door to the Great Hall opens, and out comes Chieftain Toke with his wife and many children. Right before the door can close, Dalla emerges and stands behind his family.
    He begins, “Tonight we celebrate the solstice. Now is the time for planting and renewal to begin. Thor has given us a full moon to celebrate, and our seeds will sprout in half the time!” He picks the still, white, he-goat up in the air, as its bloody neck hangs limp down toward the fire. “We must all sacrifice to Thor and thank him for all that we have and all that we wish to have!”
    Everyone cheers as he passes the goat off to a thrall who places it along with the other sacrificed animals on the scaffold outside the Great Hall. Toke claps and yells out, “Bring me my valkyrie! The gods and goddess want her here!”
    Some laugh as they see her brought, yet again, bound at her legs and arms, but she looks rather comfortable now. She’s placed on the ground before Toke and, with the fire behind her, still looks fierce, even bound as she is. Some step back, making it a semicircle now.
    Toke looks down into her strange eyes. “The gods are telling me that tonight is the night I should trust you.”
    Gunhilda smirks.
    Toke squints, one eye wider the other. “You are not going to run this time, or I will kill you myself.”
    Gunhilda still keeps her smirk but pulls her arms up to cut the bindings. Everyone holds their breath as he pulls out his ornate sword, brings the sword over his head, and chops the rope. Gunhilda barely flinches. She lies back on her freed hands, brings up her bound legs, and holds them so stiff that one slice of the sword cuts the rope. The crowd moves back even more as the giant woman