Meltwater (Fire and Ice)

kill her. I will kill her.’
    Magnus glanced at Erika. Her eyes were wide, desperate. She was several inches shorter than the man. Slowly she began to slide down his chest. Just as slowly she drew her own right arm
upwards.
    Magnus knew what she was planning. If this was a genuine hostage situation Magnus might have told her to stop. But he had a feeling that she only had seconds to live. In which case her idea was
her best chance.
    ‘So why do you want to kill her?’ Magnus said, more to distract the man than because he expected an answer. ‘Surely Freeflow is harmless, isn’t it?’
    The man stared at Magnus, his eyes wild. ‘I have my reasons,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing you can say—’
    Then Erika made her move. She slipped down another couple of inches, thrust her arm downwards and jammed her elbow into the man’s groin.
    He cried out in pain, and Erika twisted as he tried to slash her neck. He caught something, and she too yelled.
    Magnus dived at the man’s knife hand. The two of them tumbled on to the ground. Magnus focused on the man’s hand, bending back the thumb until the man let go of the knife. Magnus
felt a fist slam into his neck and then his ear, before he was flung sideways.
    Both men lunged at the knife, Magnus sending it spinning into the corner just before the man’s fingers could grasp it.
    Magnus scrabbled across the ground to grab the weapon. He pulled himself to his feet and saw the man take off, planting a kick on Erika’s head as he went.
    Magnus sprinted after him, gripping the knife. Magnus was fast, and he was pretty sure he could catch the other man, but Erika was lying motionless in the dirt and Magnus knew it was more
important to make sure she was OK. So he stopped after a few yards and turned back to where she was sprawled unconscious in a small pool of blood.
    He knelt beside her. She was breathing. There was a fair bit of blood, but it was dribbling from a cut in her cheek rather than spurting out of her jugular.
    He pulled out his phone and called in help.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
    M AGNUS UNLOCKED THE door to his house and opened it. A faint smell of marijuana tickled his nostrils.
    So Ollie had found the place then.
    Magnus was very late. Erika had been taken to the National Hospital nearby, where her cheek had been discreetly patched up. Magnus had given a detailed description of her attacker, and the
police were looking for him in Reykjavík. He would be hard to find. Although Magnus was sure he would recognize him again, there were hundreds, possibly thousands of men in Reykjavík
who fitted his general description.
    ‘Hi!’ Magnus called out and walked into the kitchen. The house was small. His room was upstairs with his own little bathroom. Downstairs was larger: it was where Katrín lived.
The kitchen, which Magnus had the use of, was just off the entrance hallway.
    Katrín and Ollie were sitting at the table, smoking cigarettes, a couple of Magnus’s cans of Viking beer open in front of them.
    ‘Hey, bro!’ said Ollie as he pulled himself laboriously to his feet and gave Magnus a hug.
    ‘Sorry I didn’t meet you at the airport,’ Magnus said. ‘And I was supposed to be here a couple of hours ago but something came up.’
    ‘I’ve been OK,’ Ollie said.
    ‘It looks like you’ve made yourself at home.’
    ‘Yeah, you didn’t tell me what a great landlady you had,’ Ollie said.
    Magnus smiled at Katrín. She was very tall with a pallid complexion and short dark hair cut in a bob. She was wearing black jeans and T-shirt. She was going easy on the facial metal these
days – the rings and studs were confined to her ears. She gave him a small triumphant smile. Magnus and Katrín had lived together for a year and he knew her pretty well by now. It was
an I’ve-slept-with-your-brother type smile.
    Ollie’s eyes were shining. He looked happy to be in Iceland. Although you could tell from his features that they were related, Ollie was skinnier than Magnus and his hair was light brown
and curly, compared to Magnus’s red. He was wearing a Sam Adams T-shirt and jeans. Both he and Katrín were in bare feet.
    ‘Yes, she is nice, isn’t she? What have you been up to all day?’
    ‘Just hanging here,’ Ollie said. ‘I didn’t sleep well on the plane, you know?’
    ‘Any sign of Ingileif?’ Magnus asked.
    ‘Haven’t seen her,’ Katrín said. ‘I wondered who you had with you last night. I didn’t know she was back in Iceland.’ She