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They moved quietly through the streets of Calmut. Everywhere they looked, soldiers stood guard but no one questioned them or tried to bar their way. After all, who would stand in the way of the Queen of Lothan, the Prince of Galdora, and four seekers, not to mention their armed escort?
The sacred grove where she had once submitted herself to the Keeper of the Mists lay just beyond the walls west of the city. Though the Ice King’s forces had stayed clear of this area, they remained on their guard. When they reached the clearing where the standing stones framed the path beneath the sacred tree, they stopped and Aspin addressed the group.
“When we begin the ceremony, we must assume that the Ice King will sense it and will do everything in his power to stop us from destroying the sword.” The others nodded, all apparently believing that was what Shanis intended to do. “King Lerryn’s elite guard is on patrol a short distance from here and all of his forces are on high alert. Oskar and Larris will come with us. I will need their help in completing the ritual. I am relying on the rest of you to guard our backs. You are our last line of defense. If anyone, or anything, slips past the king’s forces, it will be up to you to stop them. The fate of the world may rest upon it.”
Shanis looked around at the others, all standing in a semicircle facing her. She took in each face, even the ones she barely knew. Her father, so ferocious yet so kind; Hierm, her best friend; Krion, the grandfather she had scarcely gotten to know; Allyn, so steadfast; Naseeb and Dacio, who were as loyal to Oskar as Allyn was to Larris; Lizzie, who clearly loved Oskar much more than the big oaf realized; Hair and Edrin, who had been there when all of this started; and Gillen and Heztus, whose loyalty to her never wavered.
“Thank you all,” she whispered. “I can never repay you.”
Colin and Krion came forward and the three shared a long embrace.
“You will be fine, my girl,” Colin whispered. “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll see you when it’s over.”
Shanis managed a tight smile and turned away before her face betrayed her secret. Drawing her sword, she led the way into the mists.
The mist wrapped around Pedric Karst like a shroud, hiding him in plain sight. He had crept into the city, his Galdoran cloak sufficient disguise to avoid rousing the suspicions of the defenders. The ferocity of the day’s battle seemed to have left everyone exhausted, with little energy left to question a solitary man walking down the street. Or perhaps it was something else.
He seemed to have become a creature of the shadows. He could slide into the darkness and no one even knew he was there. Was he still completely human? He didn’t know.
He had followed the call, that strange presence inside his mind, which told him where Shanis Malan was. He had been unable to get to her—her room was too closely guarded. But he had hidden in the shadows outside her window and he had listened.
Upon learning her plan, he ran ahead and now lurked here in a place he knew all too well. The place where he had been disgraced. He would lie in wait for her and he would do his god’s bidding.
He heard soft footsteps and he saw the faint outline of four figures moving through the mist. He drew his knife and tensed, ready to spring. When she came within his reach, he would plunge the knife into her heart and then his god’s will would be done. He, the chosen one of the Ice King, would be exalted above all others. He would have the favor of his god.
His god...
The god for whom his friend had been sacrificed.
The god for whom his father’s life had been taken.
The god for whom countless innocents had died on the altar.
Once again, the blinding pain threatened to crush his skull. His head swam and his knees buckled. He caught himself against the slimy wall and leaned there breathing heavily. When he could stand again, the girl was gone.
It didn’t matter. He always knew where she was. Keeping his knife at the ready, he crept along behind them
Oskar didn’t know whether it was the chill mist or his own nerves that made him shiver. Under a different set of circumstances, he would have been fascinated by his surroundings, overwhelmed by this fabled place of the mists. But not tonight. Tonight he was leading his friend to her death. Grief welled up inside him and he shunted it aside. If he dwelled upon it, he would give in, and all might be lost.
The ground beneath their feet was soft and steady as if they walked on a cloud. He lost all sense of time and distance as they moved forward through the swirl of white. Finally, without warning, the mists vanished and they stood in a clearing beneath a gray sky. Before them, a pool of quakewater encircled a small island upon which stood the largest tree he had ever seen. Ten men, arms spread wide, standing fingertip to fingertip could not have ringed it. Its height was beyond measure, its broad branches disappearing into the gray clouds high above. Strange, but familiar symbols were carved into its surface.
“It’s a god’s tree,” Aspin said. “There are only a few like it in the world. This has to be the place.”
“I’ve seen symbols like that before,” Oskar said. He frowned, trying to remember, and then it came to him. “There is one on our village green. In fact, Colin told me that the Ice King’s forces tried to destroy it when they attacked Galsbur.”
“Perhaps the power of the god’s tree is needed to perform the ritual. If that is the case, then it would serve him to destroy as many of these trees as possible.”
“This is all very interesting, but can we please get on with it?” Shanis said.
Oskar almost managed a smile. Almost.
Stone steps led across the quakewater and onto the island. Shanis led the way, and Oskar brought up the rear. He noticed that the mist followed them across and, by the time he reached the other side, it had closed around the island like a curtain.
“I suppose we should begin,” Aspin said. “Shanis, give Oskar your sword.”
“That isn’t going to work,” she said. “No one can hold it but me, remember?”
Aspin nodded and scratched his chin. He looked around and his eyes widened. “Here.” He pointed to the trunk of the tree where an oddly-shaped hole was... not carved into the surface, precisely. It was as if the tree had grown around an invisible sword hilt.
“It’s like it was meant to be,” Shanis whispered. She drew the Silver Serpent, reversed it, and slid the hilt into the hole. The sword locked into place. The blade now jutted out at a slight upward angle, its tip level with her stomach.
Tears streamed down Larris’ face. He grabbed Shanis, kissed her hard, and then stepped away, his hands tucked into his armpits as if trying to prevent himself from interfering.
“Oskar, when I begin the ritual, direct your life force into the tree. Focus on the symbols.”
Oskar nodded, unable to speak
“Shanis, when we reach your part of the ceremony, you’ll repeat after me. And when we reach the end...”
“Yes, yes, I know what to do.” If she were afraid, it did not show. Her face was a mask of determination.
Aspin took a deep breath and began the ritual.