Hairline fractures cascaded along the wood. A heavy impact echoed from above and the weight shifted. The scraping resumed, more rhythmic now, methodical. It had found a weaker point. Dust fell from the beams, fine at first, then in streams as the scratching intensified. Splinters followed. The creature was digging.

  The claws gouged deliberately into the weakest point where the split had started, then stopped for an instant. A loud thud reverberated through the room, full weight focused on a single point. The impact sent vibrations through the walls. A bowl fell from a shelf and shattered. The crack widened visibly, the beam groaning as wood fibers split one by one.

  The creature was jumping. Landing with its full weight on the exact spot where the crack ran. Over and over. Methodically using its body as a battering ram. The fissure spread, branching now, following the grain. Above them, claws tore at the widening gap, ripping away chunks of wood in a frenzy.

  "Move. Now. Corners." The Captain's voice was flat, issuing orders.

  Halvar didn't wait. His hands were already under Christofer's arms, hauling him upright. Christofer's legs cooperated, barely. The floor tilted, or he did. He couldn't tell.

  A black curved talon the size of a dagger punched through the ceiling. It hooked the edge of the hole and wrenched it sideways with deliberate force. A dark gray reptilian eye pressed against the opening, its vertical slit pupil contracting as it scanned the room below.

  Then the face disappeared from the hole.

  The scratching intensified, frantic now, tearing and gouging. Labored bestial breathing. The creature sounded excited. The beam gave way, not cleanly, but with a long tortured groan as fibers popped one by one. It bent at an impossible angle. Then the final impact arrived. Wood snapped in a jagged line and folded inward like wet cardboard as thatch and timber rained down. Dust billowed. Snow poured through. When it settled, there was a jagged hole with broken wood jutting inward like teeth. The weight above shifted.

  A shadow blocked the light from above. A yellow-green scaled head pushed through, small and serpentine with heavily keeled scales creating a textured, almost spiky surface. The mouth hung slightly open. Rows of teeth visible. It pushed deeper, its neck spraying wood fragments as it revealed itself, covered in bristly proto-feathers. The head rotated, tilted in shifty birdlike motions, like a hunter who'd found prey and was gauging distance. Large dark eyes, disproportionate to the sleek skull, moved in their sockets. Forward-facing. Predator's eyes. Vertical slits for pupils contracted in the dim light.

  "A fucking dinosaur?" Christofer whispered.

  "A wyvern... here?” The Captain held up his sword defensively, his voice tight with disbelief. “On the frozen Njardheimr archipelago?!"

  Halvar's hand remained pressed against Christofer's chest.

  "Don't. Move."

  Halvar moved carefully toward the bowl of bloodied shimmering water they'd cleaned from Christofer earlier, trying to suppress the sound of his movement. He jumped forward and threw the water, dousing the flames. Steam exploded through the room in a blinding haze that obscured the wyvern's gaze.

  The wyvern forcefully wrenched its long neck upward, ripping splinters across the roof as it pulled its head up. Heavy thuds echoed from above as it repositioned itself. Only dim coals remained, glowing faintly. The hole above showed bright snow-light. The people inside moved into the shadows. Christofer glanced at Halvar, then to the Captain's incredulous gaze, as if he'd suddenly discovered a whale in the snowy mountains. The wyvern's eye pressed to the hole again, squinting into the dark.

  Then the tail came through. Lowering slowly, controlled, swaying back and forth like a tongue tasting air. Its tail held a dark coloration at the tip, like a natural blade. Sharp. Organic. But no less deadly for it.

  The tail swept toward where the villagers huddled. One woman pressed her hand over her mouth, stifling breath. Christofer moved back and stumbled. Pain lanced through his ribs. The glow under Christofer's bandages began pulsing again, faint but visible in the dim light.

  The tail paused mid-air, hovering as if sensing something.The tail withdrew out of the hole.

  Halvar pulled his cloak from his back and draped it over Christofer's arms, covering the light.

  The wyvern's eyes squinted into the dark below. Then moments later, the tail punched through again, faster, searching. It passed close enough for him to see individual scales near the base, the way the proto-feathers gave way to smooth plating that transitioned to the dark blade-like tip.

  Christofer held his breath. Everyone did. Silence stretched long enough that his lungs burned. Eventually he couldn't hold it and the sound of breath filtering through his fingers made the wyvern flinch.

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  It stabbed down fast, punching into the floor a hand's width from Christofer. The tip buried deep. The tail jerked back up out of the hole. Eyes squinting, repositioning itself. Then the tail lanced down again, closer this time.

  Christofer jerked back and located an untouched spear leaning against the wall. His fingers closed around it by instinct, just the need to hold something solid while the world came apart. His legs gave out. He stumbled forward, tried to catch himself. The spear in his hands hit the floor first, butt end down, spearhead angled up. He collapsed to one knee, the spear angled up before him. Above, the tail repositioned and lanced down, aiming for where his head had been. The blade-tip met the spearhead. Metal scraped scale, then the wyvern's own momentum drove the softer tissue behind its blade onto the point. Through. The spear buried deep, wrenching itself out of his grip.

  A howl echoed from above. The tail whipped around in a frenzy, lashing across the room. The blade edge passed half a meter over someone's head, missing Christofer's head by a hair before slashing across the room into a supporting pillar. A man pressed himself flatter against the wall. The tail whipped upward with the spear embedded, and the spear shaft caught on the edges of the hole. Too wide. Above them, the creature thrashed, furious. The tail jerked side to side, slamming against the ceiling, but couldn't pull through. The Captain moved.

  "Out!" The Captain's voice echoed from the doorway. "Now!"

  Men scrambled. The tail whipped again. Halvar pulled Christofer backward. The wyvern made a sound, low, wet, rattling. Claws began tearing at the hole above, widening it with frantic scraping. The hind legs tearing at the roof, ripping at thatch and timber. The creature made another sound, low and frustrated. Then the weight above shifted, repositioned. It wasn't pulling at the tail anymore. The scratching stopped. Silence. Then a single, massive impact. The wyvern had stopped trying to extract the tail. It was coming through. Most of the roof section collapsed inward and the wyvern fell with it.

  Six meters of green-brown scales and bristling proto-feathers crashed into the longhouse. Pterodactyl-like wing-limbs spread for balance, translucent membranes catching light from the massive hole above. The hind legs landed hard, powerful and digitigrade, two-toed claws with an additional enlarged sickle-shaped claw on each hindfoot. On the left leg, wrapped around the ankle, was a thick iron fetter hooking an equally heavy iron chain. The links trailed upward through the ruined roof. The leg itself was wrong, discolored flesh, blackened toes, frostbite evident even from a distance.

  The head swung toward them. Clear liquid dripped from the jaws, already frozen into small icicles that hung from the lower jaw and clinked faintly. Breath steamed, visible in the cold air pouring through. It was mapping them. Learning where everyone was. Those dark grey eyes found Christofer again.

  It took a step forward. The chain went taut. The mouth opened wider, more teeth visible. The frozen drool cracked. The neck coiled back into a pronounced S-shape, then snapped forward. Jaws chomped with enough force that the shockwave hit Christofer's face and he could smell its breath. The creature strained against the chain. The iron held. The wyvern's jaws opened and it roared. The sound rattled the walls and sent bowls crashing from shelves. The locals pushed past the Captain, spilling outside into the snow. The tail slammed against the fallen roof beams. Once. Twice. The spear shaft cracked. The wyvern's jaws snapped down on the spear shaft lodged in its tail and bit through. The shaft splintered. The tail lashed upward and the remaining spearhead tore free, spinning into the shadows. The creature shrieked. Then the tail stabbed down, fast and precise, straight into one of the soldiers pressed against the wall. The man jerked sideways. The tail wrenched loose, spraying blood across the ground. The tail swung back, slashing through debris as the wyvern clawed itself upward. The man shuddered and collapsed, laying completely still as his paralyzed body wheezed breaths, his eyes remaining open, unblinking.

  "Move!" Halvar shoved Christofer toward the door.

  Christofer stopped for a moment and reached back to the collar of the paralyzed man, pulling him toward the doorway. Pain exploded through his ribs, his shoulder screaming in protest, but he kept pulling, dragging the dead weight through snow and debris. His vision threatened to white out but he gritted his teeth and hauled. His legs barely cooperated. Halvar grabbed his other arm and together they got through the door, half-carrying the paralyzed soldier between them. Behind them, the wyvern tore at the chain, clawed at the ground, tried to follow. The chain held. For now. The creature shrieked. They didn't stop. Through the door to outside. Into the snow. Into the open.

  "On the horses!" The Captain's voice rang out. "Before the thing remembers it has fucking wings!"

  Horses screamed in the clearing. Some had broken free, bolting into the snow. Others remained, wild-eyed, fighting their ropes. Gristle was still there, barely. The rope had frayed. One more pull and she'd be gone. Christofer sank into the snow, exhaling hard and trying to gather what little strength remained. Moments later he stumbled toward her out of sheer stubbornness, his health be damned. Gristle was still panicking.

  "I am way too tired for this, Gristle. Calm down." His words didn't have much effect. "Let me get into the saddle and we can panic together."

  He wasn't exactly an expert, having just ridden for the first time mere hours ago. He approached Gristle with open hands, hesitant as she thrashed. When he finally caught her reins, Christofer tugged at them, pulling the horse's head toward him. He blew a cloud of steam into her face.

  "Stop fighting and I'll give you an apple later."

  She snorted and looked into his eyes. She seemed to have calmed down somewhat. The horse tried to bite him. He snapped his hand back and eased his grip on the reins.

  "That worked?" Christofer raised an eyebrow. "That worked... Yeah, you're fine."

  He patted the horse on the side, grabbed the saddle, and tried to pull himself up. His ribs screamed. His shoulder felt like it was tearing. He got one foot in the stirrup and hauled. Pain lanced through every broken part of him but he kept pulling, gritting his teeth. He made it. Somehow. Slumped forward over Gristle's neck, gasping.

  "Go, horse. Do your thing." Christofer mumbled into Gristle's back. "Get us out of here."