He stood face to face with an eye the size of his head. The great bear stared at him. It snorted, hot air gushing from its nostrils and dampening the snow. If the cave-worms had had mouths big enough to bite a man in half, the bear had a mouth big enough to bite one of the worms in half. Dante held as still as the forest around them.
The bear snorted again. It lifted its head and walked on, vanishing slowly into the night.
~
There was no sign that anyone else had come through the rift since they had entered through the Split Crypt. They climbed uphill a ways in search of somewhere that would be safe from any guardians or strange energies coming from the rift. Dante drew a map as they went.
"There." Blays pointed to a twelve-foot thumb of rock jutting from the snow like an ancient tombstone. "That looks fit for a king of yore."
They found a flat spot behind it. There, Dante reached into the ground, watching it closely for signs of rebellion as he sank a shallow hole into the rock. Blays pulled the sled bearing Gladdic's body into the inches-deep hole, then Dante lowered the pit another six feet.
Dante said a prayer for him from the Cycle of Arawn. Then, not knowing if it made any sense to do so—for the land of the dead was no longer as the gods had built it; and he wasn't sure that it was wise to attract the attention of Taim, who they'd defied—he said one of the prayers he remembered from the Ban Naden. For he knew that's what Gladdic would have wanted.
He drew the stone over the old man's gaunt face, locking him in a tomb that might last as long as the mountain.
"We'll see it through to the end," Blays said to the ground. "And then we'll return."
Dante made to leave, then turned back to the tall rib of rock. He pressed his finger to it and used the nether to etch the sun of Taim upon its face.
Some of the traders in Gallador Rift used stout wooden skis to traverse the peaks and highlands once the snows took over. Dante hadn't thought to do so before, but he now harvested two pairs from the trees. He found that he was far from an expert with them, and even Blays had some difficulty with them, and he usually picked up any physical skill as if he'd been practicing it since he was a boy.
Even so, it was much faster and easier on the legs to zigzag downhill than to hike through the drifts. They reached the end of the snows by that afternoon, and by sunset they were only a few miles out from the shining town on the ridge. They made camp, intending as before to set out early and reach the settlement just after the gates opened.
Blays looked up from the knob of wood he'd been carving into what was looking to be a cat. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
Six figures in dark cloaks stepped out from behind the trees. Three of them had swords in hands, two bore drawn bows, and one carried nothing.
"That," Blays said.
Still seated, Dante beckoned with his finger, bringing the nether to him. "All I see is six dead people."
"My lords." The unarmed figure dropped their hood, revealing Elenna's youthful face. "I am so happy to have found you."
"Just stumbled over us, did you? Out here at sundown in the middle of nowhere?"
"Oh, but I expected you would return the same way you arrived on your first visit."
"And couldn't wait until tomorrow for that visit to be made?" Dante stood, knocking pine needles from his trousers. "What are you doing out here?"
"It isn't safe to be seen with you. For you've done it, haven't you? You shut down the portals!"
"For the moment. We've ridded your land of all the people who can open new ones, too. Although we had to fight the lich himself to do it."
"And you survived such a meeting?" Elenna's mouth twitched, her eyes moving between them. "But not all of you did. The old man…"
Dante nodded. "Gave his life for this."
"I'm sorry for that. Yet I'm grateful to him, and glad for him that he died a hero. Maybe you will see him again some day."
"Has he passed into the Mists?"
The young woman shook her head. "Those who die here go to a separate hereafter."
"Can we visit there later?" Blays said.
"I know of no way but death." She let a moment of respect pass. "But you've done a great thing, my lords. Try to remember that first of all."
Dante gritted his teeth. "It's hard to forget, considering we still have a much bigger thing left ahead of us."
"You speak of destroying the lich. Now you need the Spear of Stars."
"Very badly. In fact, if we can't get it, then everything we did to stop the portals was a waste. And the death of our friend was, too." Dante took a step toward her, voice rising. "Which means we have a problem, don't we? Because the very same entity that owns the spear is the same person who wanted the Mists destroyed. A goal we just thwarted!"
"My lord, I—"
"You knew, didn't you? You knew! You've screwed us!"
Blushing hard, Elenna dropped to one knee, bowing her head. "Forgive me, my lord! Your anger is just. I did know, and I said nothing."
"You didn't think this information might have been useful to us?"
She risked a quick glance up at him. "Please, good sir, contain your temper for just a moment and give space for yourself to hear me. If you had known that Taim wanted to rip the Mists into nothing, would that have stopped you from closing the doorways?"
"Of course not."
"For if they'd been left open and brought the Mists to an end, you'd never be able to find your way home, would you? After that, even if you went on to capture the spear, you wouldn't be able to return with it."
"Assuming there isn't another way to get from this land to mine. Given the record of all the other things I've been told were true about this place, I'm inclined to think that means there is another route."
"There isn't. I swear this to you. My lord, I know that you have every reason to treat my word as trash, but this is nonetheless the truth. So what good would it have done you to tell you that Taim wishes the Mists destroyed? Wouldn't it only have filled you with doubt? As you trekked forth to battle with the mighty White Lich himself? In what way would that have aided you?"
"I can't know that, since I wasn't told. That's why being given information is good: the more of it you have, the more decisions it opens you to make."
"Then perhaps you have a braver heart and stronger mind than mine. But there is more. If I had told you this, and it had somehow gotten out that I'd done so, I would have been put at great risk. Why do you think I sought you out here in the wilds? If we are to work together, this can't be done in the public eye, or else we'll both be destroyed. I deceived you to keep myself safe—and because of that I can now be here to help you in whatever way I can, filled with the gratitude of what you have already done for me. Don't you see that it was for both our sakes that I did this?"
"Yes, but—"
"I know!" Elenna lifted her chin and turned her face to the side. "No words or reasons can excuse my wrongdoing. I lied to you. Strike me! Punish me as must be done!"
Blays looked up and away. The woman's guards had put away their weapons long ago and did nothing to lift them now.
Dante sighed. "Lyle's balls. Get to your feet, will you?"
He offered her his hand. She took it, grasping it with the ends of her fingers, and stood, offering him a smile. "Thank you for your pardon, lord. There are few men who would be so just."
She seemed perfectly earnest, yet he still couldn't shake the sensation she was mocking him. "So now that we've offended or possibly enraged its owner, how in the world do we get the spear?"
"I suggest you ask for it."
"Right after I stomped all over his plans? Are you sure I shouldn't also sleep with his wife first? Or burn down his house?"
"It's worked before. That's how you learned of it in the first place, isn't it? Someone simply asked to borrow the spear, and was allowed to earn it."
Dante lowered his eyebrows. "Okay, let's say we ask for it. Then let's go way out on a limb and assume they
tell us to go to hell. What can we do to change their minds?"
Elenna lowered her head in thought, the hood of her cloak bunching around her cheeks. "I can think of two means. The first is to tell them that you have come to claim the Debt of Youngspree."
"The Debt of Youngspree?" Blays said. "What's that? A debt of some kind?"
"It's a favor your people did for ours a long time ago. One that's never been repaid. Taim's honor will demand he do so."
"So he'll be honor-bound!" Dante said. "Now you and I both know that no one has ever broken their honor just for the sake of their self-interest. But let's think the unthinkable and say that they still turn us down. What's our second argument?"
"Why, then a cunning figure as yourself might appeal to that same self-interest. And to fear. You should remind them that the world's a much bigger place than it was when they walked away from it, and that anyone who can conquer all four of its corners, as the White Lich is preparing to do, might someday be a threat to other realms as well. Tell them also to think about what happened the last time your world was overtaken by demons and all its people killed."
Dante asked her for the details of the Debt of Youngspree, which she gave few of, explaining that the less he knew, the less Taim's servants could argue with him. She then told them there was a representative of Taim in the same city they were traveling to, and should seek him at the Temple of the Sun. She soon made to leave, claiming that if anyone caught them together, they'd have no chance at the spear whatsoever.
"Before we part, I must ask you to give me the token," she said. "If someone were to find it on you, it would only do you harm."
Dante fished out the silver coin Isa had given them in the Mists. "Isn't it about time you told me just who you people are?"
Elenna shook her head solemnly. "All you need to know is that we're the only ones who want to see you succeed. It's better that you know nothing about us. Then you'll have nothing you can betray to the enemy."
She took the token from him and walked into the night.
Blays ticked his fingernails against the hilt of his sword. "Do you trust her?"
"More than I probably should. But I think she's telling the full truth about one thing: she's the only one here who will help us."
"What was that bit about how our lands were once conquered by demons? Suppose she was referring to the Glimpse we saw? The great rebellion, and the sorcerers in their towers, and their monsters that turned everyone else into monsters too?"
"Probably. But who knows how many times demonic magic may have wiped out everyone and everything? When the world ends, there's no one left to record it or remember it. It's just gone. Forever."
"Well there's a thought. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to go have nightmares until the dawn tells me I can stop."
~
As planned, they arrived at the city not long after the daylight did. A different guard manned the gates than on their first visit and he paid them no special mind. They headed down the main boulevard until they spotted the Temple of the Sun. This was a large sphere set on top of a low hill. When they first saw it, it was a rather plain and dull white, like the moon with its light drained out of it.
As they neared it, the sun swept from behind the eastern mountains. As soon as its rays touched the sphere, the temple seemed to catch fire, painted with a red intensity to match the dawn light. Dante got the feeling its color would adjust to match the sun's across the day.
They came to the base of the hill and ascended the steps, which numbered a hundred and twenty. The temple door was made of bright copper and was engraved with glyphs of all kinds. Dante gave it a knock. The metallic ring of it made him shudder: it sounded like the wordless call of the White Lich.
The door was answered by a young man wearing a red tunic, its hem and sleeves fringed with long thin triangles suggestive of the sun's rays. He looked at them expectantly.
"We're here to claim the Spear of Stars," Dante said. "We will speak to whoever can grant it to us."
The servant's eyebrows jumped. Without a word, he closed the door. Dante could hear the smack of his feet from inside: he was running. Blays glanced at Dante and Dante nodded, drawing his knife and cutting a covert scratch on his upper arm. The nether came near.
After a minute, the steps returned. The door opened. The young man bowed and ushered them inside. He led them through a broad hall, then delivered them to an atrium where the curved ceiling was striped by a long ribbon of glass. This ran east to west and when the sun climbed higher it would be a ways off center to the north. Dante suspected that during the equinoxes, the sun would trace a perfect path across the glass.
He stopped, caught up in a moment of sheer wonder. Not for the beauty of the room, though it certainly was. For it was one thing to know in his heart that the gods were real—he had spent his entire life believing so, and had known with absolute certainty that it was true ever since he had stood beneath the White Tree and felt the presence of Arawn beyond the doorway built to summon him—but it was another thing altogether to be standing in a temple built to them in their own land.
"Greetings," a man said, knocking him from his reverie.
The man walked toward them across the spacious atrium. He wore a white robe; when the light caught it, it sparkled with all the colors of the sun. He was at least sixty, but he looked like he was still strong enough to wrestle Blays to a draw, if not beat him outright. His head was shaved and his jaw was wreathed in a red beard.
"As I thought." His eyes flicked up and down them. "You are from the Fallen Lands. We are aware of your troubles. Even so, you cannot have the spear."
Dante clicked his teeth shut, then stood taller. "You know of our troubles? Does that mean you're also aware that every living person in our world will soon be killed?"
"That's to be seen."
"I have seen it, because the one who's making it happen enslaved me and revealed everything that was to come next. He's already swallowed one nation. He's now on the brink of taking one of the mightiest on the continent. After that happens, there's nothing left that will be able to stand against him. Everything we know will fall."
"It sounds like you should do something to stop him."
"Funny thing, that's what brought us here. I know you've given the spear to others in the past. The sorcerer Sabel, for one. Now I'm here to ask for it in that same tradition."
The priest crinkled his brow. "And again I say you can't have it. I agreed to see you as a courtesy. Now you will agree to go."
"If this is your stance, then I invoke the Debt of Youngspree."
The man drew back his chin, eyes shifting between Dante's as he gave this some thought. "No, I don't think so."
"But the debt was never repaid!"
"That is true. But the bloodline it was originally owed to died a long time ago. You don't have any claim to it."
Dante tried to argue further, but the priest repeated his point, his bearded face reddening with anger. "This is the second time I'll ask you to leave. There will not be a third."
"You're making a mistake," Dante said. "Think back to the last time my world fell to demons. Then think about whether you're ready for that to happen again."
The priest's mouth fell open. "How would you know of that? That history was lost to your people an era ago!"
"That's true, but it's amazing what you can do with clever enough sorcery. We looked deep into the past. And we watched it all unfold."
Dante began to describe the events in the Glimpse, but the priest waved his thick hand, visibly shaken. "You wait here. And don't touch anything."
He turned on his sandal and walked from the atrium with the quick steps of someone who'd really like to break into a run.
Blays laughed. "Did you see how fast he flew out of here?"
"Only because I didn't blink," Dante said. "There must be more to what happened than we saw in the Glimpse. Something that reached all the way here."
The priest was gone for two
minutes. When he returned, his expression was flat and composed. "I have passed on your concern and it was given its due consideration. It's been decided that the spear is still not yours to have."
Dante threw up his hands. "Without it, we're all going to die! You're supposed to be our gods! What kind of gods let every last one of their believers be killed?"
The man chuckled with contempt, stepping forward to put his ruddy face close to Dante's. "Do you think I don't know who you are? You meddled in something very important. Something vital to the same people you're here to beg favors from. Now you'll pay the price for your hubris."
"Are you talking about the portals? Then punish me for that. But give my people the spear!"
"Oh, but there is no need to punish you. Not when the lich is about to do that for us."
Dante balled his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly that even the nether seemed ready to squirt between his fingers. "You son of a bitch, I'll rip your head off and—"
A hand clamped his shoulder. But the priest hadn't moved; it was Blays.
Blays smiled tightly at the other man. "You'll have to forgive my friend, sir. We recently lost a companion of ours and, well, we're both still in grief. We understand your decision. We'll be on our way now."
The priest nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on Dante. "That's the right choice."
Dante almost drove a black spike through the man's skull, but Blays gave his shoulder three sharp squeezes, a signal they'd worked out for such situations long ago: trust me.
Physically swallowing down his anger, Dante turned and let himself be escorted from the temple by the wordless servant.
Out in the blinding morning light, Blays headed down the steps. Each one seemed to send a jolt of pain up Dante's spine. They were too close to the temple to speak about it, which was a good thing, because if he'd opened his mouth he would have screamed.
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