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Nidhogg gave a ferocious roar as Beru blocked its attack with one claw. The roof of the snake’s mouth pressed down on him with overwhelming strength as he held it up, the sharp teeth ready to tear into both him and Sirka at any moment.
Yet Beru only laughed, a wide grin spreading across his face. Planting his feet firmly against the bottom of Nidhogg’s mouth, he pressed upward, forcing the monstrous jaws to open wider. The snake’s eyes flashed with confusion.
“I’ll stall him. Go on in,” Beru said.
Sirka’s eyes widened in surprise.
Even as he struggled against the mouth, Beru’s eyes were still on her. “Go inside and take it with your own hands!” he urged.
Sirka leaped forward, diving straight into the dark maw that Beru was holding open without a moment’s hesitation.
This was the decisive moment. She had reached her destination, the one head among Nidhogg’s remaining six that contained the power of the Monarch of Frost. The succession ceremony was about to end, and all that remained was for Sirka to enter the deep, dark mouth and claim the primordial darkness. Until then, it was Beru’s job to buy her the time she needed.
A deep rumble...
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