“I’m an Aeris now,” he whispered towards Galian’s room. “But you probably already know that ...”
With a discouraged exhalation, Odin kicked against the courtyard floor and then turned back to his own room.
As he rounded the corner into his room, he could see that someone had left a gift on his side table. There was a small black bracelet with a hand-written note folded over top of it. Odin retrieved the note, but as he looked at the handwriting, he immediately crushed the paper in his hand.
It was Galian’s cursive.
“A little late for gifts,” Odin muttered.
After slapping the bracelet off the end table, Odin collapsed onto his bed.
He would need the rest.
The next day, his life would change forever.
31
The next morning came early for Odin. He awoke to the abnormally busy sound of the Throne’s Eye courtyard. Odin stretched off the sleep, and feeling a little rough from the night before, he laboured out into the commotion. As he exited his quarters, he could see that there were eleven large, black carriages and one old, white carriage parked just inside the monastery’s gate. In addition to the many carts in the courtyard, there were also at least thirty darkly robed women of varying age. The majority of them were outside one of the Throne’s Eye temples, but a few were wandering by themselves.
Odin scanned the courtyard. He eventually saw Craine lounging next to the monastery stables. With a wave, Odin crossed the courtyard to join him. Craine was an Indian Sight of about Odin’s age, and after the rift had grown between the twins, Odin had often found himself in Craine’s company.
“What’s all this about?” Odin asked as he sided up to Craine.
“The Sisterhood,” Craine replied. “I think they need our help.”
As Odin looked across to the largest congregation of women, he watched Igallik and a woman in red exit one of the temples in the heart of the monastery. The head monk called Raine, and after adding him to their numbers, the three re-entered the temple.
“The woman in red,” Odin recalled, “she has only been within our walls twice, and both times she was asking for big favours.”
Craine nodded. “This is true,” he said.
As Odin wondered what today’s favour might be, Craine returned his attention to one of the mares in the stable. The horse was a monstrous, jet black mustang that Craine had found and named Desia. Craine had been training Desia for two years, and because of her incredible brawn, the Sight had expected great things. However, Desia’s previous owner had abandoned her, and as a result, the horse was easily spooked and did not give its trust freely.
“How is she?” Odin asked.
“I’m working on her,” Craine said. “I think she’s almost ready to be saddled.”
“You’re not giving up on this one, are you?”
Craine reserved his answer for a moment. “I see something in her,” he said finally, “something that shouldn’t be given up on.”
“What do you see?” Odin asked.
“Something you’d probably recognize,” Craine replied.
“Why would I recognize it?”
“Desia’s a marvel of power,” Craine said, “but she’s focused on the wrong part of her makeup. She doesn’t realize where her strength lies.”
Odin flexed back a little. “That’s pretty vague,” he said.
“Maybe. But the way I see it, Desia’s fate is being ruled by her weakness and not her strength. I’m hoping something is going to startle her, you know? I’m hoping she needs to react to something that is bigger than her own problems. She’ll run then, I’m sure of it. A lot like you and your brother.”
Odin rolled his eyes. “I just got up,” he said. “And I was drinking last night. It’s a little too early for this conversation.”
Craine shrugged. “Better too early than too late.”
Before Odin could reply, Raine exited the temple and called to him from across the courtyard.
“Hey, mate!” he shouted. “We need you over here!”
Odin nodded, and as he began to jog across the courtyard, he gave Craine a sarcastic grin.
“Who knows? Maybe I’m about to be startled.”
After Odin had reached the temple, Raine slapped him on the shoulder.
“Feeling alright?” he asked.
“No worse for wear. You?”
“Like hammered shit,” Raine laughed. “I had a few too many.”
“That’s alright,” Odin grinned. “You’re retired now.”
“That I am,” Raine said. “But you, my friend, are not.”
Raine pointed behind him to the temple. “There’s a job waiting for you through those doors.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” Odin said.
“Figured.”
With another slap to the shoulder, Raine ushered Odin into the temple.
Igallik and the woman in red were waiting. The old warrior directed Odin into the pew directly across from Igallik, and almost immediately the head monk spoke.
“We had hoped that our newest Aeris would receive more than a day off, but duty has called.”
Odin smiled at the head monk and then awaited the briefing.
“It would seem,” Igallik explained, “that three young women of the Sisterhood have been kidnapped.”
“Three particular women,” the woman in red added. “It is nice to meet you, Odin,” she said as she extended her hand. “My name is Evelyn, and I hold the post of the Sisterhood’s chancellor.”
Odin accepted Evelyn’s hand, and then quickly returned to the matter at hand.
“What is so particular about these women?” he asked.
“Each was set to begin a ritual that would allow us to recognize them as adults within our circle,” Evelyn answered.
Evelyn then nodded to Raine, who promptly handed Odin a letter.
Odin began to read as Igallik further explained the situation.
“What really sets this abduction apart,” he said, “is those who have claimed responsibility for the kidnapping.”
Odin shook his head and then looked to Igallik as he finished reading the letter.
“This is gibberish. It’s nonsense.”
“Not quite,” Igallik said.
Igallik handed Odin a small mirror and instructed him to angle it so that the letter would appear in its reflection.
Odin did so, and after re-reading the letter, his posture slumped a little.
“It’s the Scale,” he realized. “Forneus’s faithful have done this.”
“Yes,” Igallik confirmed. “Our adversary has targeted the Sisterhood. We are unsure why, but we do know that we have until midnight to neutralize their intentions for the three girls.”
Odin was still examining the note. “What is this black mark?” he asked as he pointed to a symbol at the bottom of the letter.
“We’re not sure, Odin,” Igallik said. “It is being looked into. We can only act on what we know, and what we know is that the three girls are in jeopardy.”
“Okay, what’s the plan?”
“Your brother,” Evelyn informed, “has divined an exact location in the city for where the girls are being held. I have no previous experience with Galian’s fortune-telling, but if you are willing to trust his hunch, we will get you to that location before midnight.”
Odin seemed to swallow back some emotion. “If Galian says the girls are there,” he said, “then they are there. It would prove stupid to ignore his sight.”
“We have a deal then,” Evelyn agreed. “Prepare yourself,” she said as she rose from the pew. “Your transportation will be leaving in fifteen minutes.”
After shaking Igallik’s hand, Evelyn exited the temple and left the monks of the Throne’s Eye to speak among themselves.
“If not made already clear,” Igallik said to Odin, “this mission will be operated solely by you.”
“That’s fine,” Odin affirmed.
“Alright, Aeris,” Igal
lik said, “do what you do best.”
As Igallik rose, he patted Odin’s shoulder and left Raine and Odin to discuss the mission’s particulars.
“What do you figure?” Odin asked pertaining to weaponry. “Loaded up or stripped down?”
“I figure Sleipnir will do,” Raine said.
The old warrior paused to think. “Actually,” he corrected, “you better make that Sleipnir and a handful of stitchers.”
“A man of taste,” Odin grinned.
“First and foremost,” Raine replied.
Understanding that time was not a luxury, Odin speedily dressed himself in his black battle attire and made his way to the Throne’s Eye armoury. He quickly retrieved Sleipnir – his bow staff – and six long daggers that the Torch monks called stitchers.
Sleipnir was a small gray cylinder with a button located in its center. When the button was pressed, the two ends of the bow staff either extended out to a combined length of six feet, or retracted in to a length of about one foot.
After testing Sleipnir’s action a few times, Odin emerged out into the courtyard, and it was only minutes before Evelyn’s white carriage was ready to leave.
Raine was next to the carriage with his final counsel.
“I’d shadow-game it,” he said to Odin. “No need to get public.”
“I’ll assess the threat level,” Odin replied. “But it is the Scale after all. I might want to show off.”
Raine narrowed his gaze. “You better make sure the girls are safe first.”
“Will do,”
“Alright, Aeris,” Raine said, “make us proud.”
After the two had shaken hands, Odin stepped one foot into the cab’s rear door. As he stepped up, and hung halfway out, Galian emerged into his line of sight. The two brothers held eyes for a long moment. There was something in Galian’s gaze that seemed different – almost vulnerable. As the stare held, Galian offered a farewell wave, but with an air of dismissal, Odin ignored it and tucked himself into the carriage.
Moments later, the carriage was on the move.
As Galian watched the white carriage leave through the Throne’s Eye gates, Igallik walked next to him.
“It’s now, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yes,” Galian answered. “My sight is now gone.”
Igallik watched the departing carriage for a moment.
“Are you sure you shouldn’t have told Odin?”
Galian’s posture slumped. “I have lost him, Igallik. He wouldn’t care.”
“I think you underestimate him,” the head monk replied.
“I wish that were true. I wish he wanted to be my brother again.”
Igallik brushed his hand through his long beard. “Do you still feel only pain in the future?”
“Hell is very close,” Galian confirmed.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I’m not sure. It seems like fate is in charge now.”
Igallik looked skywards for a moment. “I have learned that fate can succumb to prayer.”
“Then pray I must,” Galian decided, “because I am no match for Hell.”
32
Odin held himself mostly in silence as Evelyn’s white carriage delivered him to the location of the three abducted girls. In his cart was the driver, one young woman of the sisterhood, and the crimson-attired Evelyn. The carriage occupants’ only exchange of words was brief. As the young woman noticed the storm clouds in the distance, she began to weep. Evelyn was quick to console her.
“It’s not like last time, Chloe,” she assured. “I promise you, it’s not happening again.”
“What’s not happening again?” Odin asked.
Evelyn, who was exceptionally protective of her girls, became uncharacteristically candid.
“Chloe has a unique sense,” she said, “one that has proven quite accurate. She is actually able to feel death.”
“She feels it now?” Odin asked with some apprehension.
Chloe wiped her eyes and clenched her hands around Odin’s.
“I feel it very strongly,” she whispered. “From the moment I saw the letter, I knew Death was coming. Odin, Death is wrapped in that letter.”
Odin did his best to console her.
“Tonight I will more than likely be an agent of death,” he said. “But, trust me, the men I strike down are bad men. They deserve to die.”
“No, Odin,” Chloe sobbed. “Tonight, someone very good is going to die.”
Her voice was too certain, so much so that the hairs on Odin’s neck stood up.
After a small pause, Odin tried to offer some comfort to Chloe.
“I’m sure it will be okay,” he said.
But words could not stop Chloe’s tears.
Instead, the carriage again fell into silence, and Odin found himself suddenly wary of the distant storm clouds.
33
Shortly after Odin’s departure, Igallik led Galian into the High Temple. The head monk’s hope was that the hallowed Temple would repel whatever evil was coming for Galian. Aside from the distant and approaching thunder, the Temple was solemnly quiet. Galian had elected to meditate, and Igallik, in both anxiety and initiative, had resolved to do the same. The two meditated for three hours, but as the thunder started to roll over top of the monastery, Galian broke from his meditation and began to pace. The frenzied sound of Galian’s footsteps quickly alerted the head monk.
“What’s wrong?” Igallik asked as he broke from his trance.
Galian shook his head in confusion.
“I don’t know. I’ve never felt this way. There is something about the thunder.”
“Is your breathing okay?” the head monk asked.
“Erratic,” Galian replied.
Igallik looked around the Temple. “Please,” he said as he grabbed a stool, “sit down.”
“I can’t,” Galian signed. “Something is very wrong. I feel it.”
As a worried Igallik scoured his own mind for answers, the sound of crows echoed from outside the Temple doors.
“That’s strange,” the head monk whispered to himself.
“What?” Galian asked.
“The crows,” Igallik said. “They never fly here. The eagles in our forest keep them far from our monastery.”
As his curiosity rose, the head monk made his way to the Temple doors. As he pulled the giant doors open and peered over the monastery, his arms fell limp and the bronze door flung out of his control. Hundreds of crows were circling the monastery, swooping and cawing over the courtyard like black tornadoes.
“Holy heaven” Igallik gasped.
As the sound drowned out his own thoughts, the head monk turned back to Galian.
“Something is very wrong,” he said. “Get back into the Temple.”
Galian nodded, but as he turned, an astoundingly loud crash of thunder filled the monastery. Thinking that lightning had struck the monastery, Igallik turned fearfully back to the courtyard, but as he surveyed the monastery, there was no sign to indicate lightning had touched down.
Nervously, Igallik began to wring his hands. Not knowing what else to do, the head monk closed the Temple’s bronze doors shut. However, as they slammed closed, a loud and very dull thud echoed from behind him.
As Igallik turned to the sound, he stumbled clumsily back into the door.
Galian was sprawled on the Temple floor.
“Galian!” the head monk screamed.
There was no answer.
With speed he hadn’t used in years, Igallik rushed to Galian’s side and began to shake him. There was no response. Instead, as the head monk tried desperately to wake Galian, blood began to seep from Galian’s ears. In his panic, Igallik threw the Temple doors back open and began to scream furiously for Raine.
Only short moments later, the old warrior rushed up the Temple staircase.
“What’s the problem?” he yelled in worry. As he stormed into the Temple, the problem was clear.
“What’s wrong with him
?” Raine asked as he knelt down to brace Galian’s neck.
“I don’t know,” Igallik admitted. The head monk’s panic seemed to cut through the air.
“Come on, Igallik, you gotta know.”
“I don’t,” Igallik painfully repeated.
“What do we do?” Raine asked.
Igallik ran his hands through his gray hair in frustration.
“You’re to go get Odin,” he decided.
“Right now? During the mission?”
“Yes. Grab Craine and tell him the situation. Tell him to rig a carriage and get you there as fast as possible.”
“You’re sure?” Raine checked again. “The boys aren’t even on speaking terms.”
“It won’t matter now,” Igallik said, “not when Galian’s like this.”
Raine nodded, and with panic controlling his pulse, he turned and sprinted out of the Temple.
In Raine’s absence, Igallik checked Galian’s pulse.
It was faint and fading.
Once again, time was not an ally of the great Galian.
34
Night and heavy rain were falling as Evelyn’s white carriage reached its destination in the town’s outer district. Through the rain-soaked windows, Odin could see an old run-down church. The church, long forgotten by the hands of beauty, seemed to fade into the weathered backdrop of the town’s dark corner. Next to the church, a gothic clock tower lurked. Odin exited the car and glanced up at the time: 10:36. It was accurate. There was still over an hour before the Scale’s threat would come to pass.
As Odin looked over the old church, Evelyn spoke to him from inside her carriage.
“We will wait here,” she said. “Please, Odin, bring our girls out safe.”
Odin nodded. “I won’t be long.”
After another look at the clock, Odin turned and entered the church doors.
As he breached the door, the sound of rain faded to a faint patter. The ground floor of the church was eerily dark. In the limited light, it appeared that this floor was the chapel segment. As Odin skulked slowly through the broken pews, he could hear footsteps echoing down from the church’s upper floor. He assumed that the girls were upstairs, but in adherence to his training, he first began a quiet sweep of the first floor. Attached to the chapel, there were four rooms. As Odin crept slowly through the darkness, he found that the first three rooms were vacant of both people and objects of interest. As Odin neared the final room, he could hear two voices. Using the shadows as his ally, Odin armed both of his hands with a stitcher, and then, like a spectre, he floated inaudibly through the dark doorway. As he gained his vantage point, he observed that there were two Scale labouring in front of a large basin. The two were in the midst of what seemed like a ritual, and they were executing their gruesome rite with industrial precision. To begin, the Scale on the left would reach into a barrel, and after retrieving a live snake, he would subsequently cut off its head and then hand it to the Scale on the right. Once the headless snake was passed to him, the second Scale would use his hands to squeeze the serpent from tail to head, using the force of his grip to push the snake’s blood down into a jar.
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