…And opened my eyes wide. My body convulsed and arched until only my heels, palms, and the back of my head still touched the ground.
“Hold him!” shouted Sif.
Skowvithr grabbed my shoulders and pressed me to the floor with gentle pressure. Veethar squatted and grabbed my knees.
Fire burned in my side, and I had an almost irresistible urge to vomit. “What…” I moaned.
“Shush, now,” said Yowrnsaxa. “Let Sif do her work.”
“Blood has filled the right side of your chest, Hank, and is keeping your lung deflated. If I don’t purge the blood, your chances of surviving this are quite low.”
Somewhere above my head, the undead bear—Kuthbyuhrn, a voice in my mind said—made a strange sound, almost like a horse blowing air through its nostrils, but sounding distressed. Then it clacked its teeth.
“Someone kill that damn thing,” spat Mothi.
“No.” I took a long, slow breath. “Kuthbyuhrn was lied to.”
“What’s he talking about?” cried Jane.
“The thing seems content to sit and watch,” shouted Yowtgayrr. “He’s stopped attacking.”
“Yes, I told him you’d stop fighting him if he did.”
“He’s delirious,” said Yowrnsaxa.
I tried to shake my head but only managed to turn my head to the side before the world fell away again.