blew the sand off the tops of the dunes. Otherwise, it was deathly quiet. Between the dunes, I could see the winding and undulating roots of Yggdrasill. The cosmic tree drank its nourishment from the water in which Nidhogg swam.
Ali walked by my side, and we stopped when we reached the last dune. On the beach below us, a cluster of people swarmed. Instinctively, I crouched. Draugr.
“Get down,” I whispered sharply.
Ali knelt to me, hair shining like quicksilver. “Marroc?” Her gaze was behind me, body tense.
I spun, but it was too late. A second group of draugr had crept up behind us—gray skin and empty eyes. In front stood a large man with lank white hair.
“Don’t move—” I started.
The white-haired draugr raised a bony hand. “Do not,” said draugr slowly, “attack.”
They’d surrounded us now. I was on my feet, daggers out, steel flashing in the crimson sunlight.
“Tell us why you are here,” said the white-haired corpse, “and we will not hurt you.”
I hesitated. I’d never heard a draugr speak before. Usually, their consciousness was the first thing to go.
“Why should we trust you? The dead feast on the living.”
“We are not hungry.” The corpse raised his hand higher to point at the blood-red sea. “We have plenty to drink.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Ali.
“We are all murderers,” said the lank-haired corpse.
Next to him, a corpse dressed in rusty armor spoke. “I slew a man with a sword.”
Another dressed in a thick gray sweater and hiking boots added eagerly, “I killed my family with a hatchet.”
“I killed a man with my bare hands!” shouted a very large corpse dressed in a wrestling singlet and a bright blue luchador mask.
A small draugr jumped forward. She wore a bloodstained chef’s apron and was grinning excitedly. “I gutted my husband with a breadknife. Then I plucked out his eyes and ate them.”
The corpses turned to stare at her, mouths hanging open.
“You ate his eyeballs?” said the white-haired corpse. His face had twisted into a look of disgust. “While he was still alive?”
The little corpse glared. “The sound of his chewing bothered me. Especially when he ate chicken wings.”
They all nodded, satisfied with this reasonable answer.
The lank-haired draugr edged closer. “Why are you here?”
Perhaps they could help. “We are here to find Nidhogg. Where do we find her?”
A low murmur rose among the draugr. “They come for the pale serpent!” shouted the white-haired corpse. “Our great foe, the night ravager, the bone breaker, the curse striker. We hate the wyrm.”
A bit dramatic.
The lank-haired corpse suddenly leaned forward. “Are you a friend of the wyrm?”
“No.”
“Then why do you want to see her?”
I sighed. “She has something I want. That’s all.”
“They wish to hurt the wyrm. I’m sure of it.” The white-haired draugr clapped excitedly. “We loathe her. We will help you. Follow us; we will take you to her.”
The draugr closed in behind Ali and me, and they motioned for us to walk toward the sea of blood. I kept close to Ali as they mumbled in their broken voices.
We walked along the shore. Apart from a dry breeze blowing in from the water, it was eerily quiet. The usual sounds of the sea were absent—no gulls called; no buoy bells tolled. Even the waves lapped soundlessly on the shore. Junk littered the sand: rusted cars, electronics parts, even bags of old potato chips.
Ali pointed at the water. “What happened to those corpses?”
I followed her finger and saw the pale, glowing bodies of the dead bobbing in the sea.
“They are fed to the wyrm,” said the white-haired draugr matter-of-factly. “The wyrm demands sacrifice.”
“Right,” said Ali. “Of course.”
The white-haired draugr’s expression became deadly serious, “Only the oath-breakers. The vilest among us. They count as nothing. The wyrm’s metabolism is slow, but still, she must be fed.”
I felt a chill crawl up my neck.
The oath-breakers. The liars.
That would be me.
As we walked, the draugr kept clear of the water, sticking close to the dunes. We picked our way between the rusted cars and climbed over Yggdrasill’s tree roots.
We’d just clambered up a particularly massive root, when the lank-haired draugr raised a rotting arm. “Welcome to our mead hall.”
I looked around, confused. I didn’t see anything that resembled a mead hall. Just a massive root and a large pile of garbage.
The draugr began walking toward the garbage pile. “This way.”
I squinted. What I’d first taken as a random pile of trash appeared to be some sort of dwelling. It looked like something a desert island castaway might construct