The room fell dead silent, as all the soldiers stared back at him, mouths agape, in shock.
The silence went on for so long, Godfrey thought it would never end, bracing himself for the dagger in his heart that would inevitably come.
But instead, to his shock, the soldier facing him suddenly boomed out with laughter. All around him, the other soldiers burst into laughter, too.
The soldier clasped Godfrey’s shoulder.
“That was a good one,” he said. “Very, very good. For a moment I thought you were telling the truth.”
Godfrey slowly removed his helmet, revealing his human face, his hair, slick with sweat, sticking to his forehead, and he smiled back at them all.
Slowly, the Empire faces around the room fell in shock.
“This is for Darius,” he said.
Godfrey squeezed tight the handle of his mug, stepped forward, swung it down and smashed the soldier over the head, sending him stumbling back and down to the ground.
Godfrey stood there, hardly believing what he had just done, looking back at all the hostile faces and knowing that in moments, he would be dead. But for this moment, at least, he was victorious, and no one, and nothing, would ever take that away from him.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Thorgrin stood on the stern of the ship, looking up at the skies and watching Lycoples fly off into the horizon, screeching, flapping her wings, on the way to some distant world to bring his message to Gwendolyn. Thor wondered as he watched her fly away. Would Lycoples ever find her? If so, would she be able to help her? To save her from whatever trouble she was? To help reunite the two of them?
Or was it all already too late? Was Gwendolyn—Thor flinched to think of it—already dead?
It broke Thor’s heart, watching Lycoples go. He felt a longing to be back up in the sky, on the back of a dragon, racing through the clouds. Being up there made him feel invincible, as though he could crisscross the world, as though anything could be his.
Thor turned back and looked ahead, at the waterfall of blood looming before them, raining down red, the noise growing increasingly louder. As they drifted toward it, the waters threatening to engulf their ship, already staining the masts red from the splashing, the others beside him—Reece, Selese, Indra, Elden, O’Connor, Matus, and Angel—all looked to him for guidance. Thor stared at the raging waters dropping from the sky, their sound deafening, with a sense of foreboding. He had never seen anything quite like this, and as he looked at the force of the wall of water, he had a sinking feeling the force of it might crush their ship. And yet he knew that his son lay beyond that wall—and that was all that mattered to him now. Nothing could hold him back.
“Thorgrin?” Reece asked, standing beside him, wanting to know what was on everyone’s minds. “Do we turn back?”
Thor took a deep breath, then finally shook his head.
“We sail forward,” he said. “Through the waterfall. Whatever the costs. Are you with me?” he asked the others, knowing it had to be their decision, too.
All of them, without hesitation, nodded back—and Thor felt more grateful for their loyalty than ever.
“Raise the sails!” Thor called out. “And angle them. We shall use them to deflect the waters!”
They all rushed into action, Thor jumping in and helping, and he felt his anxiety rising as the waves all around them grew choppier, the noise from the falls becoming deafening. The deck was becoming slick with blood, as the spray covered it, and Thor found himself slipping, along with the others.
Angel cried out as she went sliding right past Thor, heading for the rail, flailing, unable to stop herself—and Thor reached out and grabbed her arm just in time, saving her.
They all worked the sails, and Thor noticed the ship going adrift, turning sideways into the falls. He knew it would be deadly if they didn’t enter at the right angle.
“OARS!” Thor called out.
They all rushed to grab oars, and Thor, too, grabbed an oar and began to row with all his might. The ship began to straighten again, sailing directly into the wall of blood, the current sucking them in. The sails above bent and curved beneath the weight of the spray, deflecting much of it into the sea, but not enough to keep the decks from beginning to fill.
They sailed closer and closer, nearly entering the waters, and as they did, Thorgrin felt small hands clutching his leg.
“I’m scared,” Angel said, standing beside him.
Thor laid a reassuring hand on her head.
“Do not fear,” he said. “Stay close to me, no matter what. I shall protect you.”
“Do you promise?” she asked.
Thor looked down at her meaningfully.
“I vow,” he shouted, over the din. “With all my life.”
Angel clutched Thor’s leg tighter, and Thor grabbed onto the rail, slick with blood.
“Under the sails, all of you!” Thor called out.
They all followed him under the sails, shielding them from the force of the rain.
“Grab onto anything you can!” he yelled, as he grabbed a rail tight, steadying himself, and each of the others grabbed the mast, a post—anything they could hold onto as they entered the falls.
A moment later, Thorgrin raised his hands above his head and heard the shouts of the others, as they were all immersed in a world of red. A wall of blood rained down on them, louder and more powerful than any falls he had seen, and their boat rocked violently, the waters churning, bobbing up and down, rocking left and right. Thor heard the ship groaning in protest, and for a moment he felt certain that they would not survive.
Thor felt blood soaking his hair, his eyes, his entire body; he wiped it away constantly, and yet still it was hard to see, hard to breathe. It was like buckets of thick water being dumped on his head.
Thor felt Angel clutching him tighter, beginning to slide across the deck. He reached down and grabbed her, too, and held her tight. With his other hand he held the mast, but everything was now slick with blood, and it was getting harder to hold on to anything.
The waves grew rougher, the ship jerking in every direction, and Thorgrin felt as if they would all be sucked down to a horrible death. He could barely hold on, and as he heard a shout, he looked up and watched O’Connor lose his grip and begin to slide across the deck, the ship now sideways, and about to hurl into the sea. There was no way he could reach him in time.
Suddenly, they burst through the falls. The world of red opened up to a world of night, and the ship straightened out as the waterfalls lightened. The deafening sounds receded, and as they sailed farther away, they found themselves on the other side of the wall, the heavy downpour of the waters replaced with a spray. The world was becoming quiet again, the waves calming, and Thor took stock: he saw all the others, dripping with blood, all in shock, as he—but all alive.
He turned back and looked over his shoulder and was shocked to see the strength of the falls they had just passed through. Their strength looked great enough to cut a man in half, and he did not know how they had survived.
The ship groaned, and Thor looked up to see the mast cracked in half, and looked about to see the damage the ship had taken; it had been badly beaten up, and yet still it sailed. Thor took a step and heard his feet splashing, and he looked down and saw the deck was filled with a good two feet of blood. At least, though, they had not capsized.
Thor saw the ship threatening to list, and he knew if they did not bail it soon, it could sink.
“Pails!” Thor yelled, and they all rushed into action. One at a time they each scooped up the water, even Angel joining in, and dumped bucket after bucket of blood overboard.
They worked diligently and soon enough the decks were mostly clear, save for a thin layer of blood, and the ship began to balance itself again.
Finally safe, Thor walked to the bow and took a moment to look out at the sight. He was in awe. Before them lay a whole new world, a vista unlike anything he had ever seen. The sea here was made of blood, visc
ous, their ship moving more slowly in it, like sailing through seaweed. In the waters he could see strange red fish, their fins transparent, rising and submerging beneath the water. There were other creatures, too, strange species he did not recognize; an octopus-like creature raised its head above the water, only to plunge back down beneath the surface again. Thor heard a great splashing and turned to the side to see a huge, red whale-like creature surfacing, with four heads and two long tails, blowing its spout before disappearing back beneath the waters.
Angel look up at him, in shock.
“Are we safe here?” she asked.
Thor nodding reassuringly.
“We are safe,” he replied, not so sure himself.
Slowly, she released her grip on his leg.
On the horizon, Thor saw the outline of land on all sides of them, shaped in a horseshoe, a horizon of black, faint, distant. It seemed so far away. The land here seemed to be made of black, charred soil, perhaps even sulfur or tar, with streaks of glowing red in it, as if the gates of hell had opened and oozed onto them.
“The land oozes blood,” Reece observed, coming up beside him.
“Perhaps we should make land,” Elden said.
Indra shook her head.
“That is not land,” she said. “What you see is merely the outskirts of the Land of Blood. That is boiling tar and lava. If we set foot on it, it would scald us. We must stick to the oceans, see where it brings us.”
Thor looked up at the sky, dark and smoldering, threatening, ominous; it was a sky with no life in it, a sky filled with ash and streaked with scarlet. It was a land of gloom, the gloomiest place Thor had ever been. It was day here, but it felt like night.
Thor could sense the evil hanging heavy in this land, and he felt a foreboding as he thought of Guwayne, brought here by those creatures. What plan did they have in store for him?
*
Thorgrin stood quietly at the rail of the ship, looking out at the bleak landscape and wiping the blood off the rail with a soaked rag. All around him, the others did the same. A peaceful air had finally fallen over them, and now they were all trying to pick up the pieces, to clean up the mess and restore order. High above, the mast groaned as O’Connor and Elden finally finished fastening it back into place. The sails flapped overhead, stained red with blood, as Reece and Angel scrubbed them, trying to get them white again. Of course, the aesthetics didn’t matter—but it was symbolic. They all wanted to prove to themselves that they were not crushed.
The sails were at full mast as they tacked and caught a strong wind, sailing deeper and deeper in the silence into this red sea, heading inevitably toward a sky of darkness and blood. Thor craned his neck and looked up at the sky and felt as if he were embraced by a world of gloom—a world that had no end. They had finally reached a period of calm and stillness, and as Thor looked up at the skies he wondered if it was afternoon, evening, or night. He could not tell in this place. The skies appeared to be filled with ash, streaked with scarlet, with no change to them. It was like a permanent state of twilight.
“How long until we get there?” came a voice.
Thor looked over to Angel standing beside him, wringing out a cloth over the edge. Then he looked out at the horizon, wondering the same thing himself.
“I wish I knew,” he answered.
Thor heard the gentle lapping of the waters and he looked down at the red sea, the waters so thick that it slowed their ship, despite the breeze. The sea was eerily still, punctuated every now and again by the splashing of a strange creature that surfaced then disappeared just as quickly.
Thor searched the horizon, burning with a desire to find his son, and having a sinking feeling that he was losing him. He knew the ship was going as fast as its sails could take them and that there wasn’t much else he could do.
Thor looked at the others and saw how exhausted they all were from the trip through the waterfalls, from the constant searching for Guwayne. He felt bad that he had dragged them into this yet he also knew they were his brothers and sisters and that they would not take no for an option. He knew that if the roles were switched, he would do the same for them; he would, in fact, gladly give up his life for any one of them.
Thor saw Angel suddenly slump down, her back against the mast, and sit there, her eyes heavy, closing and then opening them again as she wiped her brow with the back of her hand.
Thor hurried and knelt beside her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, filled with concern.
She closed her eyes and nodded, looking exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just…been getting worse lately.”
There studied her.
“What is?” he asked.
Listlessly, she raised her arm, white and covered in bumps from the leprosy.
“My sickness,” she said. “It’s been getting worse lately. It’s spreading. Sometimes I feel well, but other times…I don’t feel myself so much.”
Thor felt awful, helpless. He leaned in and gave her a kiss on her forehead.
“What can I do?” he asked.
She smiled sweetly at him and grabbed his hand.
“Sit with me,” she said.
Thor sat beside her, and the others came over and sat beside them, too.
“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Selese asked.
Angel shook her head.
“I had a friend, on the island, who had it as bad as me,” she said. “When she reached my age, she got sicker. It took her about six months.”
Thor stared back with concern.
“Six months for what?” he asked.
She looked at him, terror and sadness in her eyes.
“Until she died,” she answered flatly.
Thor’s heart broke.
“It’s okay,” she said to him, smiling through tear-filled eyes, laying a hand on his wrist. “I always knew I was going to die. I just never knew that I was going to live—to really live. You’ve given that to me. And I can never thank you enough.”
Thor felt determined.
“I will not let you die,” he insisted. He reached over and grabbed her hand. “Do you understand me? Whatever I have to do, whatever it takes, I will not let you die.”
She wiped away a tear.
“I believe that if you could, you would,” she said. “But you are not God. And Selese, even with all her powers, has tried to heal me, and even she cannot. Neither could Alistair.” She shook her head sadly. “Not everyone is meant to be on this world forever.”
Thor felt his heart tearing up inside.
“There must be a cure,” he said. “Is there not some cure!?” he demanded.
Angel looked off into the distance, her eyes glassy.
“On the island, they all talked, all the time, of a cure,” she said. “Some swear one exists. Others think it’s just a fantasy of the desperate few. Whether it really exists…I don’t know.”
“What is it?” Thor pressed, determined. “Where is it?”
She shook her head.
“I know not what it is,” she replied. “As far as where….well, some claim it lies between the Western Horns of the Empire. In the Land of the Giants.”
Thor and all the others exchanged a curious look.
“The Land of the Giants?” Selese asked.
Angel nodded, her eyes heavy.
Thor turned to Indra, the expert on all things Empire.
“Do you know it?” he asked her.
Indra nodded grimly.
“I’ve heard of it,” she said. “A place of terror. They are a fierce nation, answering to no one—not even the Empire. All who venture there do not return.”
Thor felt filled with resolve, felt it burning in his stomach. He turned to Angel.
“Then that is where we shall go,” he said. “We will rescue Guwayne, then we will find you your cure.”
Angel slowly shook her head, smiling.
“You are very sweet to care about me,” she replied. “But it woul
d be in vain. It might not even exist—and you would all die trying.”
Thor looked at the others, and they all looked back at him, equally resolved.
“Then all of us shall die,” Reece chimed in, all of the others nodding.
Angel looked around the circle, and Thor detected new hope in her eyes.
Thor clutched Angel’s hand, white with leprosy, and held on tight. He was determined to follow through on his word: he would find a way to cure her, whatever it took.
They continued to sail deeper into the ocean of blood, a comfortable silence settling over them, punctuated by the howl of the wind and the splashing of exotic fish alongside the boat. The gloom settled over all of them, matching Thorgrin’s mood. There was something about this place that he sensed, something he did not like or trust, which he felt sinking deeper and deeper into him. It was like there was a depression that swirled in the air, and that sunk into his being the longer he was here. As much as he tried to block them out, Ragon’s final words rang through his head: Even with all your powers…you would surely die if you go there. All of you would. Had he been right? Was broaching that waterfall, entering the Land of Blood, a feat too great for even him? Was he setting himself up for failure and death—and all his friends along with him?
He had no choice but to find out. Guwayne was out there on that horizon, somewhere, and as long as he was, turning around was not an option.
With full sails and land still far off, there was little for them to do. In the long silence, Reece sat there, holding Selese, who leaned back in his arms; Elden sat beside Indra, trying to drape an arm over her shoulder, which she reluctantly allowed; O’Connor polished his bow and Matus his flail—while Thor held the Sword of the Dead in his hands, examining all the fine detail on its ancient and mysterious hilt, brow furrowed as he thought of Guwayne. Was he safe now? Thor wondered.
Reece, sitting beside Thorgrin, cleared his throat.
“Old friend,” he said to Thor, who looked up at him. “You and I have been on many quests together—more than I can count—and I’ve rarely seen you so concerned as you are now. But you must let it go, so your mind is clear for the battle ahead. I know you worry for Angel. We all do. But if this cure exists, we shall find it. And as far as your Guwayne…whatever it takes, we shall find him too. We are with you.”