The ladder creaked as rung by rung the intruder climbed up. Next came a sniffing, a great inhalation of air. This was a hunter who had tasted blood and now wanted more. There wasn’t a nerve in my body that would function. Ice ran through every vein, weighing me down.
We stared at the trapdoor. It lifted slowly, hinges squeaking with rust. A snout tested the air for several seconds, then the thing pushed its head up into the chamber and turned towards us, its eyes glowing orange. The creature looked human, except for the protruding canine snout and a covering of dark gray fur. It opened a wolflike mouth and let out a low growl. Dangling from its teeth was a strip of hide, flesh still attached.
It brought up a hand, not a paw, but a hand—with four clawed fingers and a thumb.
Before it could climb another step, Mordur yelled, launched himself through the air, and landed on the trapdoor, knocking the beast to the ground with a great thump. It roared and a second later the trapdoor, which Mordur was still lying across, was struck from below, lifting it up a few inches and nearly throwing Mordur right off.
“Help me hold it down!” he cried.
Michael got there first, kneeled next to Mordur, adding his weight to the door. I forced each muscle into motion, stood up. The trapdoor was hit a second time and one of the hinges flew into the air, deflecting off the roof.
I found a long post and slid it across the door, between Michael and Mordur. There were two rings on either side that had been nailed into the floor. Sarah grabbed the other end of the post and helped me guide it towards the opposite ring, but it was too big to fit cleanly.
A third blow hammered into the wood. Michael was knocked off and Mordur fell away, clutching his ribs.
“Quick!” Sarah hissed. “Push it through.”
I shoved the post. It caught the other ring and I forced it into the hole, blocking the door. Michael and Mordur had jumped back on the door, braced themselves for an impact.
None came.
There was a knothole in the center of the trapdoor, large enough to see through. I leaned over to peer through it and was hit by a scent of rotting flesh. Then a large, hypnotizing eye filled the hole, swirling with orange and gray colors. It mesmerized me. A voice began to speak in my head in a language I’d never heard before. But the message was clear: Surrender. Don’t struggle. Don’t resist. There is no escape. The eye stared right into me, seemed to know who I was. My body became weak.
“Annnngggie.” Michael’s voice sounded slow and thick. “Annngie whatttsss wwrrronngg?”
Someone leaned in beside me. Sarah. Close enough that she could see through the hole. She gasped, then backed away. “Geh-eh-ttt gonnnne!” she yelled. Her voice freed me slightly and I was able to inch away. She had stoked the fire, lighting the room, and was now holding a heated metal poker. “Get gone!” she commanded. “Fardu burt! Draugr! Flydu!”
She ran forward and shoved the poker down into the knothole. The thing below us screamed and pounded so hard against the trapdoor that the wood cracked. Another wail followed, like a child that had been denied a toy.
We could hear the creature running and the noise of the door to the outside crashing open.
Sarah lowered the poker.
“Is it gone?” Michael asked. “Is it gone?”
I slowly released my grip on the post. My body ached. I bent and peeked through the crack in the trapdoor, afraid I would see that eye again, hear that voice. But there was nothing. Snow was blowing in through the door; already a small bank had formed on the ground.
“What the hell was that?” Michael asked.
“It was . . . it was . . .” I was shaking, my hands cold. “I thought it only went after sheep, Mordur.”
Mordur was still kneeling on the trapdoor, holding his ribs. He pushed himself to his feet. “That was not what attacked my dog. That was too small.”
“You mean there’s something larger out there?” I asked.
“I do not know. Perhaps,” Mordur said.
“Well, that’s great news,” Michael said. He looked at Sarah. “And what were you yelling? Some kind of hocus pocus?”
Sarah shook her head. “It was from the sagas. I read it a long time ago. It just came back to me before I hit that thing in the eye.”
“Well, it worked,” Mordur said, “but for how long?”