There was something wrong with my head.

The hexagrammic, fractal tattoo on the Jarl’s chest pulsated with radiant, ever-folding darkness not allowing me to think straight. I had something… something that could help me stop this monster. What was it? I couldn’t recall.

I watched as a tiny, black kitten rushed across the icy landscape and stopped in front of me, pawing at the black threads dancing through the air, somehow slicing them apart with her little white claws.

Stormy!

Just for an instant, for a split second, my head cleared, allowing me to reach my belt, pull out and chug the healing water from my glade. My joints popped back into place, torn nerves reconnecting, blinding pain receding.

I spun and reached into my torn bag.

“Aw, it's a wittle kitty familiar, out to protect her Master,” Bobliss laughed. “How adorable.”

His naked foot slashed through the air, sending Stormy flying across the river with a cry of feline pain.

“What’s this?” Bobliss turned to me, staring down the barrel of my rifle. “An iron tube? Don’t make me…”

“Eat lead,” I hissed out as I pressed the trigger.

The spark produced by the wheel ignited the bag of witch-gunpowder.

Ferronite pellets exploded from the barrel along with concentrated dragonglass powder, obliterating half of the Jarl’s head and sending him careening backwards into the river.

“A dissssshonorable wrhheapon,” half of the man’s mouth hissed as his head began to reform.

I pulled out my pistol, limped towards the Jarl, brought the barrel up close against his reforming face.

"Dodge this," I pressed the gun's barrel to his remaining eye socket with a growl and pressed the trigger.

Dragonglass and ferronite pellets flashed from the gun, burying themselves deep into his skull. The Jarl collapsed into the rushing water. In another minute, he began to slowly rise back out.

“Why won’t you die, damn it?” I growled.

Time accelerated and slowed as my heart stuttered. I grabbed the knell blade from Cali’s dead fingers and began stabbing the body in the river. Again and again and again.

The immortal Jarl of Bernt flailed beneath me.

It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough to end him!

I struck the blade through his head, pinning him into the shallow water. Then I pulled my backpack off and pulled out the dragonglass-containing urn from within.

As the Jarl opened his reforming mouth to inhale air and to pull magic into himself, I turned the urn over, pouring dragonglass directly into his oesophagus.

Bobliss bubbled and thrashed. I grabbed the knell-blade and sliced his mouth open, stabbing into him and pouring more dragonglass into his insides, until his body stilled somewhat.

Not enough. He could still reform, could still come back.

I saw that one of his fingers twitched.

Definitely not enough. Argh!!!

I dragged his massive body from the river, accelerated my heart and putting Glinka’s most vibrant rocks on top of him. One by one, the rocks pile grew, slowing the rate of his regeneration, interfering with his blood magic.

One by one. For Cali. For Stormy. For… for everyone that died in Svalbard… for Glinka!

My eyes filled with tears as I piled more of Glinka’s rocks atop of the undying man, stabbing him occasionally and pouring more dragonglass into the cuts, the regeneration of which had slowed, but still kept going.

. . .

I had no idea how much time had passed, but eventually, I realized that I had no more rocks left. Panting, I looked over at the massive pile of rocks entombing the body of Jarl Bobliss.

My hands were shaking as I reloaded the rifle and the pistol.

Not enough. Nothing could be enough. Damn it all to hell!

I heard a distant “Meew” from the other end of the river and turned my head, spotting a limping black kitten against white snow, blood dripping from her body.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Stormy! Stormy was alive! Stormy was back!

I rushed into the water, swam across it and grabbed the kitten holding her to my chest and crying.

“Mew,” Stormy said.

“I know,” I said. I shoved the waterskin into Stormy's mouth, letting her lick the healing water.

"Merw. Kah-mrree!" Stormy insisted, when her bleeding stopped.

“She’s dead," I said.

“Mrrrwwwrrr!” Stormy said, her violet eyes sharp, smacking my face with her paw.

“What?” I blinked.

“Mrrrr-mremrwwrer-mraw!” Stormy declared, waving her paw at the other side of the river where Jarl Bobliss was buried under a ton of rock next to Cali’s dead, heatless body.

“Other side? Yeah fine,” I said and ran back into the icy water, swimming across, with Stormy clinging to the top of my still somehow intact backpack.

When we emerged on the other side of the river, Stormy pawed at the remote in my pocket.

“Remote?” I blinked.

“Gggg-eeennn-kah!” Stormy let out.

“Glinka?” I blinked. “Glinka is still alive? How?”

Stormy pawed the ground.

“Oh,” I said. “Right. I’m an idiot.”

The last piece of Glinka’s megalith, her anchor, was still suspended inside my earth. I felt it sparking at my senses, but paid no attention to it, far too busy trying to deal with invincible Bobliss.

I fixed the shattered button on the remote, popping it back in and switched the remote on, liquefying the circle of ground. Glinka’s megalith piece slowly bobbed out from the liquefied earth as it was far too magical to be permanently contained within.

Glinka manifested atop of her reduced megalith looking left and right. Then she looked at Stormy, who leapt to her megalith.

“Mrrbr-mrrsshh-mrrr!” Stormy gesticulated as the river spirit bent down to the kitten.

Glinka nodded silently.

“Mrrdru-Jarrrrr-llllrrr-maywrrrr!” Stormy ranted. “Mrrhdaw-Gurrrrgg-may-mrawrar-rrrr!”

Glinka’s head snapped to the pile of rocks. Her fists opened and closed.

“Mrrrryarrrrrimmm!” Stormy snarled.

Glinka raised a hand in the air, the river around us thrumming with power, roaring to a rising crescendo.

“Cah-me!” Stormy cough-mewled at me, jumping on my shoulder.

“What?” I asked.

“CAH-MRRRWEEEE!” Stormy waved a dark paw at the dead body of the Arcanicx Sorceress.

“Huh? You want… me to bury her?” I asked.

“Nrrrawrrr!” Stormy shook her head.

I grabbed Cali’s body and began to drag her away from the enraged river. I glanced at the massive fist that was rising out of the water.

Glinka lowered her hand and picked up the entire pile of her rocks, along with a section of ground. She squeezed hard, the water filling with red.

The blood of Jarl Bobliss began rushing through Glinka’s water fist downstream to the North. I looked away.

I dragged Cali’s body into the cave, pausing for a moment.

“What am I even doing?” I asked.

“Myarr-eerrrll!” Stormy said.

“Barrel?” I blinked. “What barrel?”

“Merrhiinnrrrr myarreellll!” Stormy insisted. She jumped into the Sleigh and pawed at the closed barrel of healing water.

The smallest bit of hope pulsed in my chest. Could the healing water fix someone without a heart, help someone who’s already been dead for more than twenty minutes?

I dragged Cali’s body into the Sleigh and pushed her into the water. She sunk under and I stared at her. She wasn’t changing, wasn’t healing. She was still dead.

“Well, that was pointless,” I said.

“Mrawrr!” Stormy shook her head.

I slid down to the bed.

“I’m tired,” I said, rubbing my throbbing head. “I… I’m so tired.”

Stormy ran up to my torn bag and began attempting to exhume the Codex out of its compartment. I helped her.

Stormy opened the Codex to the cat-communication page and tapped the angry cat face with her paw.

“No?” I looked at her. “No, what? Cali is dead.”

Stormy’s right paw moved to the word [YES] while her left paw moved to the word [NO].

“Huh?” I blinked at her. She’s never done anything like this before. “What are you talking about? She’s dead and also… not dead? How?”

“Mrrrwrr!” Stormy growled, tapping both words.

“Schrödinger’s kitten!” I declared, my brain snapping into a conclusion. “She’s dead and alive? Is that it? Dead now, alive in the future? Do I need to keep her in the water barrel longer for her to become alive?”

“Mraw!” Stormy tapped the ‘no’ sign.

“No?” I blinked as I reached for my pouch and drank some more healing water myself. “I don’t understand.”

Stormy sent me an irate glare.

“Mrrryaw-Grrrr,” she said. “Grr-grrrrr! Urrrrnnn-crrrrr-rrr Gggrrrrrr-grrrr!”

“The Gy…” I said, stopping myself. “Uncle… George?”

[YES]

I tried to relax, tried to think.

This whole ritual was organized by the Gygr of Chernobog and her Immortal Champion, Bobliss. All to turn Cali into a Gygr. To create a perfect weapon against the glaciers. Due to my interference, Chrizantia Malekai failed on both fronts–Glinka was still alive and Cali… Cali was dead.

Cali’s body had to be brought to Chernobog by Bobliss to make her into an inverted abomination, the Gygr of Glinka.

“The key to fixing this mess, to making Cali alive again is in… Chernobog, isn’t it?” I asked the kitten.

“Mrrrrr!” Stormy slapped the word [YES] staring at me like I was an idiot.

“Of course,” I said, a small twitch of a smile manifesting on my face as I petted Stormy who began to purr furiously while climbing onto my lap. “I get it now, thanks. Seems we have to raid the office of our competition!”

But a chilling thought loomed like a murky shadow behind my optimistic words: how could we even reach Chernobog, a swamp up north shrouded in darkness and likely guarded by unspeakable horrors? Surely the Gygr had more than one champion and more Jotuns on hand to send against us. There was no way that she would give up on her mission of taking over river Glinka just because I had rebuffed one of her fallen heroes.

I had likely only bought myself a bit of time and others would be coming.