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Shanis stood stock still. Cold sweat dripped down her face, and she repeated the words of the ritual as if in a trance. Beneath her feet the island on which she stood had begun to swirl and pulsate with the same bluish light that had filled the cavern beneath Murantha when she’d first found the Silver Serpent.
Before her eyes, the sword burned like a tiny sun, blotting Oskar and Aspin from sight. It was a good thing. If she had looked at either of their faces, her resolve might have crumbled.
She was desperately afraid, not of the pain, but of what lay beyond. What if death was a cold, empty place? What if there was nothing at all?
It made no difference. She had but one choice if she were to save everyone she cared about.
As if from far away Aspin spoke the final words.
“I freely give my life.”
“I...”
“I freely give my life!” A voice behind her shrieked. She whirled about to see a tall, thin figure burst through the curtain of mist. She saw Larris reach out to grab the intruder. Steel flashed and Larris fell back, a knife hilt protruding from his stomach.
She had only the time to shriek “No!” and then the newcomer was upon her.
But he was not coming after her. He shouldered her aside and hurled himself onto the blade of the Silver Serpent.
Everything seemed to freeze as she tried to comprehend what had just happened.
And then the ground shook so violently that she was knocked off her feet. Oskar fell back, staring at the stranger who had, unbidden, given up his life in her place. Who was he?
But Shanis had no time to wonder. She hurried to Larris’ side. The prince lay clutching the wound in his stomach. Blood soaked his tunic. The bloody dagger that had done the work lay discarded nearby
“Larris. Oh no.” Tears streaming down her face she pressed her hands to his wound and tried to hold in his lifeblood, but she knew he was dying. Her life had been saved, and his taken from him.
Lerryn knew he stood no chance against the Ice King. The god could crush him with a wave of his hand, yet still he rode. For months now, he had sought to atone for his past transgressions. Finally, he had his chance. He knew he would die, but before he perished he would cast his defiance in the face of the Ice King. And he would die with his sword in his hand.
The Ice King held out his hand and Lerryn’s horse skidded to a halt. The frightened beast began to buck and Lerryn jumped free. He hit the ground hard but regained his feet immediately. He raised his sword and began to walk slowly toward the terrible glowing figure before him.
The Ice King raised his sword...and froze.
The burning blue light that shone from his body flickered, and began to die. The frosty ground beneath his feet thawed and the Ice King let out a mournful wail that boomed like thunder in the night.
Lerryn didn’t know what was happening, but he could recognize when the enemy was vulnerable. Fear coursing through every vein, he sprinted forward. He felt as though he were moving in a dream, scarcely able to lift his feet. In six strides, he reached the Ice King, raised his sword, and drove it into his heart.
A cold so intense that it burned shot up his arm and coursed through his body. Every muscle jerked spasmodically, but he could not let go of his sword.
Before him, the Ice King fell to his knees. Lerryn’s blade shattered and he stumbled backward, his eyes still locked on the trembling god, whose unearthly glow was dying like a guttering candle. With an ear-splitting roar the Ice King fell face-first onto the ground.
And then he was gone.
Lerryn dropped to the ground, powerful shudders racking his body, but somewhere deep inside he felt warm.
“It’s Pedric Karst!” Oskar shouted.
Shanis turned and gaped. Through a curtain of tears, she saw Oskar lean down and haul the young man’s body free of the blade. As his lifeless form dropped to the ground, his hood fell back and Shanis recognized the familiar lean face and dark hair of the young man she had hated for so long. The young man who had died in her place.
“Where did he come from?” Oskar asked.
“Oskar, get away from there!” Aspin grabbed Oskar by the arm and pulled him away. “Look at the sword.”
The Silver Serpent now pulsed with alternating blue and white light. It began to vibrate and then jerk back and forth as if trying to work free from the tree, and Shanis somehow knew that it was the movement of this sword that shook the world.
“What’s happening?” Oskar said
“Karst is the King of Kurnsbur,” Aspin said. “His sacrifice drew the Ice King into the sword, just like the rulers did when they formed it.”
The blade emitted a high-pitched whine that rose above the rumbling of the earth.
“They’re battling inside the sword.” Shanis didn’t know where the thought had come from, but she knew it was true. “The gods are fighting the Ice King.”
As they gazed at the blade, which now writhed like its namesake serpent, cracks began to form across its surface.
“We should get out of here,” Aspin said. “We don’t know what might happen.”
“No, wait!” Oskar shouted. “Shanis, you can heal him with the sword. Quick, before it’s too late!” He grabbed Larris under the arms and dragged him closer to the sword.
Shanis could scarcely think, so great was her grief, but she was willing to try. Still nearly blinded by tears, she took Larris’ hand and reached out for the sword with her other hand. Her hand closed on the point and she felt it pierce the flesh of her palm.
“Please,” she whispered. “My life or his. My life or his. I freely give my life.”
For the final time, she felt the power of the Silver Serpent flow into her, filling her, and then she poured it into Larris.
The power waned as the light from the sword dimmed. The force drained from her and her eyes grew heavy.
She was vaguely aware of blinding flash and a loud crack as the Silver Serpent flew apart.
And then all went black.