The Undying Viking: An Arthurian Fantasy Adventure (Merging Worlds Book 1) by I.C. Shadows

Author:I.C. Shadows [Shadows, I.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-19T05:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

When it came to walking through magical doorways, Markus wanted to believe his prior experience had prepared him for a better landing this time around.

But of course, he was mistaken.

Instead, he fell onto his side, hips crashing into a padded field of weeds and long grass in a cursing mess. But fortunately, minus his pride, Markus was relieved to find that he’d escaped without significant injury—minor flesh wounds, having been tallied up already, no longer counted. But that relief was short-lived, all color dashing from his face at the sight of a galloping ensemble of armored muscle bearing down on him. And just before he was flattened, Markus was most glad that he couldn’t see the stupid look on his face.

Heaps of mud and grass were kicked into the air as Holger skidded to a stop. “Damn ye, Markus Trygg! Is dere no getting’ rid o’ ye?”

Unable to squeeze words from his mouth, Markus could only stare up, the Viking standing directly over him and leaning in so close that he could smell his awful breath spewing down on him. And, overwhelmed in his stunned disbelief at nearly becoming roadkill, Markus had forgotten one very crucial thing—to move out of the way.

From where the portal shimmered just over Markus’s head, Dalia materialized—and fell on top of him in a tangle of black hair. Most of the impact hit him straight in the chest, the explosion of air alerting him to the doorway's destruction as he felt Dalia’s weight sandwich him into the ground. And though confident he’d gotten the worse end of it, Markus moved to check on Dalia. Her body felt limp on his, and he made sure to be gentle in moving out from under her. He feared she’d been knocked unconscious or, worse, that she was conscious—but lost again in the throes of her magic. Fortunately, it turned out to be neither one as her unsteady jet-black eyes rose to meet his.

Markus helped her up, muting the cries from his bones and joints as he climbed to his own feet. She was slow to rise, arms and knees trembling mightily from building exertion that was furthering its already exhaustive toll. Nevertheless, Markus made sure to hold onto her, even as he struggled to stay upright.

“Ye should ‘ave just let meh be, witch,” Holger raged, teeth reared back while every vein showed through tightened biceps. “Ah do not need either o’ ye.”

Markus didn’t wait for Dalia to defend herself. “She pushed herself to the brink to get us here. If you’d just stayed put, we wouldn’t have had to come after you at all.”

“I’m—ok, Markus,” Dalia labored, trying to keep upright.

“No thanks to him.”

Red fury had nearly overtaken the blue in the Viking’s pupils, and his hands were clenched into fists bigger than Markus’s head. “No one asked ye to come. Ah can do dis on mah own.”

“You know what then—fine. Go ahead, get yourself killed if you want to so badly,” Markus’s temper boiled over. “We will

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