Torval and Vindrash and the other gods of the Vindrasi strode onto the field of battle. The Gods of Raj joined them, taking the forms of two enormous ogres, carrying war hammers the size of oak trees. A female Cyclopes walked with them, firing arrows from her bow.
Joabis belched and grinned.
“I brought help,” said the god.
The Dragon Kahg gave a loud roar as Vindrash, in her dragon form, flew to join him. Torval and his heroes smashed into the ranks of the hellkites.
Garn took his place at Skylan’s side.
“Some god loves you, my friend,” he said.
“Not that one,” said Skylan, laughing and pointing to Aelon.
The laughter caught in his throat, nearly choking him.
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stood before him. Her black hair, unbound, fell over her shoulders. Her eyes were brown flecked with gold. She held out her hands to him to show him she was not armed, a fact that he could see plainly for himself, for her flimsy dress of some filmy fabric concealed almost nothing.
She started to touch his face with her hand. He drew back from her and she let her hand fall.
“Do not be so quick to say Aelon does not love you, Skylan Ivorson,” the god said with a charming smile. “To prove it, I will give you this piece of advice: go home. You see, this attack was a diversion. While you and your gods have been battling ghosts, your cousin, Raegar, is sailing to the land of the Stormlords with the largest army ever assembled in the history of this world.”
Skylan was shaken by this news, but he would remain in the realm of the dead forever before he would let Aelon see she had unnerved him.
He shrugged. “Let my cousin sail where he pleases. I care nothing about these Stormlords.”
Aelon cast him a glittering glance between lowered lashes. “Then I don’t suppose you care about the spiritbone they have in their possession.”
Skylan gripped the hilt of his sword and looked past the god, out to sea. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Aelon drew closer and he shivered.
“Because I love you, Skylan,” she said softly, “I will do something gods rarely do for mortals. I will tell you the truth. I would like to have the five spiritbones and the power of creation. I could do many wondrous things for this world if I had such power. But I don’t need it. I’ve done quite well without it.”
Skylan was puzzled. Did this mean Aelon was giving up the fight? He glanced at Garn, who looked grim.
Aelon gave Skylan a charming smile, then languidly walked back to her chariot. She moved slowly, taking her time. Pausing, she looked at him over her shoulder and added, “I just need to stop you from getting it.”
She stepped inside and picked up the reins. “Your wife could have saved your people. She chose not to and now my armies march on them. Go home. Give up the fight. No matter what you do, you cannot win. So you have four spiritbones. You need five.”
“I have won this day!” Skylan shouted, goaded into speaking.
“Because I let you,” said Aelon.
Her serpents carried her chariot into the sky. The Dragon Kahg chased after them, but god, serpents, and chariot vanished in a dazzling flash of white light.
“She speaks the truth,” said Skylan, downcast. “She needs only one spiritbone and that one is with the Stormlords. How can I fight an army?”
Joabis snorted. “As a gambler myself, I can tell you this, my friend—Aelon is playing you for a fool.”
Skylan cast Joabis a look of disgust. “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”
“Much as I hate to agree with him, Skylan, Joabis is right,” said Garn. “Aelon has chased you around the world, gone beneath the sea and even entered the realm of the dead to find those spiritbones. You and Aylaen thwarted Aelon and now that he has lost, what else can he do except claim victory?”
“And make me doubt myself,” said Skylan.
“Aelon doesn’t need one spiritbone to stop the gods. Aelon needs one to stop two mortals: you and Aylaen.”
Skylan considered Garn’s words, then said, “You are right, my friend. There might be a chance—”
Someone smote him from behind, sending him staggering. Skylan whipped about, sword raised, to see Sigurd.
“You and Garn having a cozy chat?” Sigurd asked, sneering. “Sorry to interrupt, but the rest of us are fighting for our bloody lives! If you two old women are finished with your gossip, we could use your help.”
“I thought you could handle this lot yourself, Sigurd,” said Skylan, laughing.
Sigurd glared at him, muttering, and ran back to the battlefield. Despite the departure of their god, the hellkites were still fighting. Perhaps death was preferable to their unholy lives.
Skylan rested his hand on Garn’s shoulder. “We will fight together one last time before I join you in Torval’s Hall.”
“May that time be long in coming,” said Garn.
* * *
Wulfe took Aylaen and Farinn to where Acronis lay on the sand. Aylaen had not wanted to believe the boy when he told her Acronis was dead and, seeing no wound, no blood, she hoped he was mistaken. Falling to her knees beside him, she started to feel for a pulse.
She knew when she touched him, he was gone. His skin was already cold, his lips tinged with blue.
“I told you,” said Wulfe, standing back, keeping clear of her sword. “You never believe me.”
“How did he die?” Aylaen asked.
“Poison. The snake bit him.” Wulfe pointed to Acronis’s hand.
Aylaen brushed her hand over her eyes, which were burning with tears. “Once I would have rejoiced in his death,” she admitted, remembering when he had captured them, made her and her friends his slaves. “Now I grieve his loss. Where is his sword? He should have it with him.”
Farinn, after a brief search, found the Legate’s sword lying the sand. Picking it up, he gently laid it on his breast and clasped the cold hands over the hilt.
“I hope you and Chloe are together, sir,” said Aylaen.
Perhaps it was her fond imagination or perhaps because she was in the realm of the dead, but she looked out across the sand and saw two figures, shadowy and indistinct, and yet she knew them.
Acronis and his daughter, dancing.
CHAPTER
18
The hellkites could not withstand the combined forces of the gods and the dead heroes attacking the fiends in the name of their gods. When the last hellkite had been dispatched, Skylan and Bear Walker and Dela Eden met in the middle of the battlefield.
“The day is ours,” said Skylan.
“And now this god of drunks must keep his promise,” said Bear Walker, with a frowning look at Joabis, who was happily celebrating their win with a foaming mug of ale.
“He will,” said Skylan. “Torval will see to that. When your lives are returned, I have something important to discuss with you both.”
“You need an army to go to the land of the Stormlords,” said Dela Eden.
Skylan flushed, disconcerted. “Stop sneaking into my head!” he told her with a baleful look at her third eye.
“Don’t worry, Vindrasi,” said Dela Eden, laughing. “There’s very little there worth stealing.”
Before he could make a cutting retort, Dela Eden looked past his shoulder. “Here comes your woman. You have a treasure in her, Vindrasi.”
“I know,” said Skylan.
He had the impression that Aylaen was standing quite near him, yet she seemed as far away as if she were on the other side of the world. He reached out to her, and she to him, but their hands could not meet. The gulf that separated them was too deep and vast for them to cross.
“Joabis will keep his promise,” said Skylan. “He will restore our lives and I will come to you soon.”
She smiled, but there was a sadness about her smile that troubled Skylan.
“I came to tell you that the fourth spiritbone is safely hidden with the others. Wulfe and Farin
n and the Dragon Kahg are guarding it.”
“That is good,” said Skylan, wondering what was wrong. He went back over her words and thought he knew. “You spoke of Farinn and Wulfe, but you did not mention Acronis.”
“He is dead,” said Aylaen gently. “He died saving Farinn and me from Aelon’s serpents.”
“I am sorry,” said Skylan. “But do not grieve. I will ask Joabis to restore his life, as well.”
“Acronis won’t come back to us, Skylan,” said Aylaen, adding with a faint smile. “He is with Chloe now.”
“Then we will meet again in Torval’s Hall,” said Skylan.
“Come to me soon, Skylan,” said Aylaen. “Every moment we have together is precious.”
She turned and walked away, her arms clasped across her chest. There seemed a shadow of sadness over her.
“She grieves for Acronis,” said Skylan.
Dela Eden grunted and he turned to see her watching him. She raised an eyebrow, causing her third eye to twitch, then walked off.
* * *
Joabis invited the souls of the warriors and the gods to assemble in the hall. He was in a jovial mood, broaching a huge barrel of ale and handing out mugs, inviting them to drink to their glorious win. The warriors eyed him askance and stood in grim silence.
“Keep your ale,” said Sigurd. “We want our lives.”
The rest rumbled their agreement.
Joabis looked sheepish and tried to sidle behind the barrels. “There is a slight problem. I can’t really do that—”
Ogres, men, and Cyclopes roared in fury.
“But I can!” said Torval, halting the angry clamor.
The god took his place at the head of the hall to address them. He stood straight, and his eyes burned with a fierce light. He was not the weary, sorrowful god Skylan had seen in the Hall of Valor. He was the god of legend, who had fought the Great Dragon Ilyrion and claimed a world.
Torval gestured to Skylan. “This strange alliance was your doing, Fish Knife. I know our people…”
The god’s keen gaze swept over the Vindrasi warriors, who stood straight and tall, proud of their god in front of the unbelievers.
“But I do not know these others,” Torval continued. “Introduce me.”
Skylan described the actions of both the Cyclopes and the ogres and told of their heroism in battle. Torval complimented Bear Walker and Dela Eden, who were gracious, if reserved in the presence of a god they considered an enemy.
Torval smiled, understanding.
“I honor all of you this day, whether you are Vindrasi, ogres, or Cyclopes, and it will be my privilege to restore the lives of such brave warriors. When you leave this island, you will return to the realm of the living.”
A cheer went up from everyone in the hall. Sigurd and Grimuir slapped each other on the back. Bjorn shook hands with Bear Walker and Dela Eden, and even Erdmun couldn’t find anything to be gloomy about. Joabis, relieved, started passing out mugs.
Skylan stood apart, watching the warriors celebrate.
Torval eyed him. “I will restore your life, as well, Fish Knife.”
“Thank you, Torval,” said Skylan.
“But that is not all you want of me, is it,” Torval said, rubbing his chin.
“Aelon sends an army to the land of the Stormlords,” said Skylan. “The god plans to attack them and take the fifth spiritbone.”
“And you intend to see to it that Aelon does not get it,” said Torval.
“That is my hope, Torval, but my force consists of Sigurd and Grimuir; Bjorn and Erdmun; myself and Aylaen; young Farinn, a poet, who is skilled in singing of battles, but not so skilled in fighting them; Wulfe, a fae child who says he is the son of the faery princess; and the Dragon Kahg.”
Skylan shrugged. “Sigurd would say that one Vindrasi warrior is worth one hundred of Aelon’s, but that still leaves me short.”
“You have an idea to even the odds,” Torval said.
“If there was time to sail back to our homeland and raise an army of Vindrasi warriors, I would do so. But we are far from our homeland and Raegar’s fleet is already at sea. I want to ask the ogres and the Cyclopes to join me in the fight.”
Torval’s expression darkened. “You would not find help at home even if there were time. The Vindrasi will soon be fighting their own battle against Aelon. In fact, I was going to take the Vindrasi who fought with you back home to warn our people.”
“All except Sigurd and Grimuir, Bjorn and Erdmun,” said Skylan. “They are my friends.”
Torval smiled. “Agreed. Your idea is a good one. I will speak to the Gods of Raj. Perhaps we can make a bargain with them.”
Skylan had started to turn away, thinking they were finished, when Torval stopped him.
“I have not yet finished with you,” said Torval sternly. He called for silence and when the warriors had settled down, he placed his hand on Skylan’s shoulder.
“Skylan Ivorson, I forged you in fire and in blood. I struck you with my hammer and you did not break. You failed me and yourself and others, but you learned from failure. True, you have made me proud and I hereby relieve you of the name Fish Knife. You have earned the name Torval’s Sword.”
Walking over to Skylan, Torval handed him a leather sheath.
“Joabis has given you God-rage, a sword that I once gave him. Keep it safe in this sheath and the blade will never break.”
The sheath was made of stiffened leather ornately worked in gold, with a gold chape at the tip and gold at the throat. Skylan fell to his knees before the god, his heart too full to let him speak.
He wished Aylaen could be here, but he would have the joy of telling her.
“Rise up, Torval’s Sword,” said a familiar voice.
Skylan looked to see his father standing before him, his eyes shining with pride.
Skylan shook his head and remained on his knees.
“Say you forgive me, Father,” said Skylan. “Or I will be Fish Knife all the rest of my days.”
“Between father and son, there is nothing to forgive,” said Norgaard. “May you wield God-rage in honor and die with your sword in your hand.”
“Thank you, Father,” said Skylan. He touched the amulet around his neck. “In Torval’s name.”
He stood up, intending to embrace his father, thank Torval, and celebrate with his friends.
But his father was gone; Torval was gone. Garn and his other friends were gone, as was Joabis. Skylan was standing on an empty beach at sunset. He inhaled deeply and smelled the sea air. He tasted the salt spray on his lips and felt the cool water break around his ankles as the waves rolled up the shore where he stood. He heard Aylaen call his name and turned to see her splashing through the waves, running to his arms. He felt her embrace, warm and strong.
The realm of death was gone. At long last, he was back in the land of the living.
CHAPTER
19
Keeping fast hold of Aylaen, Skylan walked farther up the shore to see Bear Walker standing among hundreds of ogre warriors, talking to them. The ogres listened to their chief, silent and attentive. Far different were the hundreds of Cyclopes warriors, who were making a riotous clamor. Each Cyclopes had to have a say and they were saying it all at once.
Sigurd and Grimuir, Bjorn and Erdmun stood on the shore chatting with Farinn, who had been delighted to see them and left the dragonship to greet them. The other Vindrasi warriors had departed, sailing with Torval back to Vindraholm to prepare for Aelon’s attack.
Skylan turned to Aylaen. “We have to make a decision, my love, and we don’t have much time. Aelon told me that Raegar is leading the largest army ever assembled to attack the land of the Stormlords.”
Aylaen regarded him in dismay. “He seeks the spiritbone!” Then she paused, frowning in perplexity. “Why would the god tell you? Aelon knows we will try to stop him.”
“The very reason why he told me,” said Skylan. “If we sail to the land of the Stormlords seeking the fifth spir
itbone, we bring the other four within Aelon’s reach.”
“And risk losing them all,” said Aylaen. “Still, that is a risk we must take. Our gods have entrusted us with four of the spiritbones. We must find the fifth.”
“We need an army,” said Skylan, drawing her even closer. “I asked Torval to help me convince the Gods of Raj to fight with us. He said he would speak to them, make some sort of bargain.”
“And what would that bargain be, I wonder?” Aylaen asked, her brow furrowed.
Skylan shrugged. “I don’t know. They will agree upon something—gold, jewels. Whatever gods consider valuable.”
“I don’t think gods value gold and jewels,” Aylaen said, troubled.
Before Skylan could reply, Bear Walker shouted for them.
“Vindrasi! We have made a decision!”
“We must go see if we have an army,” said Skylan.
He and Aylaen were joined by Keeper, Bear Walker and Raven’s-foot, and Dela Eden. Aylaen embraced Keeper and said she was glad to see Bear Walker and Raven’s-foot again. Skylan introduced Dela Eden, who gazed at Aylaen intently.
Aylaen, for her part, stared at the Cyclopes warriors in shock.
“They all have three eyes!” she whispered to Skylan.
“The third eye is not real,” Skylan returned with seeming nonchalance. “It is only painted.”
“Your gods kept their promise, Vindrasi. We breathe again,” said Dela Eden.
Bear Walker gave a solemn nod while Raven’s-foot grunted and rolled his eyes as if to indicate nothing could have surprised him more.
“Our gods have been talking to your gods,” Dela Eden continued. “Your god tells us that Aelon plans to attack the land of the Stormlords and that you need our help to recover the spiritbone now in the keeping of the Stormlords.”
Aylaen and Skylan both stared at her, speechless. The gods of the Vindrasi had kept the spiritbones a secret. Aelon knew about them because of the betrayal of the mad god, Sund. How did the Gods of Raj find out? Skylan could not imagine Torval would have told them. He wondered if he should try to deny it.
“Don’t bother,” said Dela Eden. “We know about the spiritbones.”
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