Lykopis ran as light and as swift as a deer in spring while Edmund followed behind, skipping between shadows and slipping past slivers of lights. All along the walls were dark lines from the blood of the dead men. "Bear-hound?" she gasped, trying to speed up. "Gaunt? What manifestation of Ceberes is this?"
"You're not too far off," said Gaunt, in speech unaffected by the running. "You spend a lot of time in Norway, Amazon?"
"More than I intended," she replyed back. "Damn cold. Why?"
"Asbjorn is a hellhound. He is mentioned in epic poems and songs as some son of Fenrir."
"I recognize that name," shouted Lykopis, still running along the corridors. "Fenrir was the demon that took the form of a giant wolf. He was strong enough to challenge the gods, before they chained him below the earth. At the end of the world he will break from his prison and devour Odin, king of the Norse gods." Lykopis thought for a moment. "It has been a while since I have battle a creature like this. Too long. I should have brought a bigger sword."
"We need to find the others. Asbjorn is as large as a bear and much stronger than one. We can't fight him alone."
