“What do you want?” I finally asked as it kept its silence. “Didn’t you have your fun already? Get
on
with it.”
The orange eyes squinted and the beast actually looked amused. It spoke, its voice melodic and deep. “What do I want? Why, to know what they plan to do. Alas, you gave me nothing. Nothing I didn’t already know or guess. You are headed to Scardark for Shannon. And you are Ulrich. We met before. I silenced you back then, but didn’t look into your half empty head.”
I crawled back a bit so my neck would not ache as I looked up at it. “I’m not your toy now, Masked One,” I cursed. “What did you find? A recipe for a delicious mutton stew? My father made a wicked brew of ale as well.”
He snorted and looked around the vast area. “Yes, I saw that. I also saw you have been lied to time and time again, and still you lift your rear for them to hump you some more. I saw that Shannon wants my Horn, that Itax wants my Scepter, and that you are a pawn of people who care nothing for you.”
“Care?” I cursed. “Such a word hardly suits a worm of the night. You care for nothing, and least of all for my suffering.”
He shook his serpentine neck. “I do
not
care for your suffering. But all the creatures of the Nine care for
something
. I have cares. And I can sympathize with your fears. You feel cheated. I do as well. Shannon made the Dragon Pact with me. She made a Pact so I’d help you escape Euryale. Make no mistake. You
only
escaped because Euryale lost her hold on your Bone Fetters. Then Shannon died and denied me what was mine, and I’m not happy.” His eyes went to slits. “I wonder what Shannon is planning? I do wonder. I saw what you did to Eris. And you
burned
me. I have control of the fetters that should block you lot from accessing magic, and yet my control is meaningless, isn’t it? I
blocked
you from the might, but you burned me nonetheless. I find that troubling. You few humans have such odd powers.” He chuckled and went serious. “There is a reason they sent you. And I doubt your murder of the beautiful Eris is the only thing they expect of you. Yes, you will need to fight, and you will have to use the artifact you call Iron Trial. Though I have no idea, like you do not, what the actual plan is. How will they steal the Scepter?”
“I doubt Eris was enough for them,” I muttered. “They diseased me and will expect me to—”
He shook his head and tapped the stone before me. “Silence. This is a dilemma. My spies in Eris’s realm sent me a message of a strange man they saw casting a spell and killing the Queen. I knew it was one of you. I knew Shannon was planning for something. She is desperate. You are right, she will die in Himingborg. And perhaps you can still save her. Get the Horn from me, and all things under the sky will change, if Shannon gets it to Hel. Or, as you fool hope, to the gods. And still, they do not tell you
everything
. You were told they would bring the Scepter to me?”
“Yes,” I said. “They would trade it—”
He chuckled. “Itax gets you in, Kiera executes some miraculous feat of thievery while you lot attend the Black Feast and then the sacrificial fight. Fascinating. But I doubt they plan to give me anything.”
“I know not,” I answered. “I am just a soldier. But they need the Horn. That’s the
only
thing they …
we
need. They might very well try to trade the Scepter for the Horn. Why not attack you for the Horn, instead of going for the Scepter, unless they hope to trade it? You would be probably easier to slay than Stheno.”
He looked insulted that I’d consider him the easier prey. Then he pondered the issue. “Itax was to get you out of Scardark. Itax was to arrange for the trade. Itax—”
“He probably died,” I said with anger.
The dragon pushed to silence me. “Shh. No, he is out there, gathering his men. Itax might be able to keep his word to Shannon. But, as we both know, he will have the Scepter for himself. Three options he gave you. But there are only two. Either you die, or he will get it. But here is my option. You see, I cannot defeat the armies of Scardark and the four cities that are faithful to Stheno. I got lucky and captured Ban’s and some other lesser minds, but that won’t happen again.”
I nodded, not sure what the bastard was planning. “You have armies. You have King Ban’s land. Two others? Surely you can hole up forever in Ban’s city. You can escape.”
“I’ll not escape,” he said stiffly. “And yes, I can hole up there. But that is no winning strategy. And there is no guarantee I might keep the place. Vastness is a home to millions. Scardark has two hundred thousand inhabitants. And now they will field an army of hundred thousands. Stheno’s allies have been coming for weeks. In a month, they can have three hundred thousand. I have fifty to sixty thousand from three cities. I cannot beat them as long as Stheno carries the Scepter. And Stheno will not negotiate. Why should she? She’ll know if I get the Scepter, I’ll rule Svartalfheim, eventually.”
“Why? Why is this Scepter so important? It has powers, but—”
He slapped my head with his claw. “She’d have to relocate, and Stheno is not one to give up on her toys. Oh, she craves for this, but she will not let me have the land of Svartalfheim in return.”
Then he pulled it from some magical hiding place.
The Horn. Gjallarhorn.
There it was, gleaming in his claw. It was black, lacquered with gold, with bright swirls of silver in the end. I wasn’t sure, but it had looked different before, when Euryale had blown it. It was only a foot long, and there was a tiny figure of a golden dragon perched on top of it. It was the Horn that opened and closed the gates to the Nine Worlds, the horn they had blown on all of the gates to shut the gods out. Only a First Born God, or some mighty creature of the gods might use it. It was my prize, what Hel also desired, what the gods drooled after and the dragon looked at it as if he was uniquely disappointed with it. I cleared my throat. “Yes. We’ve all been looking for it.”
“And I have no real need of it,” he laughed. “I wanted it, always did, but only to trade it for the one item I could use.”
“For the Scepter?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “The Scepter. And like nobody has told you anything about the Scepter’s purpose, neither shall I be specific. Let us just say it has many uses. It is a guard of goddesses, it is a symbol of power, and it opens doors.”
“And you are willing to give the Horn for it?” I wondered. “
You
could trade it to Hel. Right now.”
He threw it up and caught it, laughing softly. “I can’t. I can’t blow it. They told you this.”
“First Born—”
He snorted. “We are powerful as the First Born. But we are
not
First Born. Dragons came later.”
I shook my head. The orange eyes seemed to dare me to mock it for the fact. “I see,” I said simply.
He went on. “If I could, I still wouldn’t. Like Itax, I also have plans of my own for Svartalfheim.”
“Itax said he could restore the gods, without Hel getting her hands on it,” I said.
“Itax is a
fool,
” he murmured. “Shannon, the Under Lord, me. We all have things we need, and those things get in each other’s way.”
“Itax said his plans would
help
Shannon.”
“A thief told me once,” the dragon said humorlessly, “that it too, was born of an egg. Do not believe anything that you are told in this land.”
“I don’t,” I hissed. “That includes you. What do you want from me?”
He shrugged. “I have my own game. I don’t care for Hel. I don’t care for most of the Aesir or of the Vanir. I want the Scepter of the Night and what it brings me. In return, I will give the Horn to you.”
“Good luck, then,” I whispered. “Good luck with your mysterious goals, dragon. I expect you will take my head now? Are you done mocking me now?”
His thorny back bristled, as if preparing to do the deed, but instead he spoke with a whisper. “I’m not hungry. And you can be useful with the head attached.”
“You will conquer my mind like you did Ban’s?” I spat.
He shook his head. “It
is
a useful spell, but it leaves the victim near incapable of independent thought,” he answered languidly. “Can’t have that. No. I’ll let you go. I’ll let
you
decide. You are going to Scardark,” it stated bluntly. “And you have little hope of success. Your fire giant and the dead girl tell you it is all going to be well. Cosia said you shall fight and conquer and perhaps you shall. Itax tells you lies. In the end, no matter what happens, you will
hate
your friends. Yes, any human who serves the dead, will be disappointed. They don’t think like you. And if Itax succeeds, you shall fall. So here is a fourth option.” He handed me something.
It was the small mirror. A piece of the Raven’s Flight. “I know this,” I breathed. “Dana used it to summon Euryale when Shannon had fought Cerunnos.”
“You need to tap it four times. That will open a way,” he said simply. “Four taps will close it. It is a way to the real mirror, and away from it. And I’ll wait on the other side, in safety. Relative safety,” he added.
I stared at it blankly. “You come in and kill everyone, you mean? You’ll come in, kill my friends, butcher me, and take what you want. You—”
“No,” it hissed. “I’ll not risk flying to a trap. I don’t trust you.
Think
. You can trust me. My promise is the one you
can
trust.”
“I can’t trust
anyone,
” I growled. “Not one. You just said so. So why would I trust
you
?”
“When you can, escape,” he said simply. “Escape your treacherous friends with the Scepter. Escape Itax’s lies. And unlike your friends who dance to the will of Hel and her slave Shannon, or Itax who could lie to your face and not remember it the next day, I will
not
be able to. I’ll make a Dragon Pact with you to both spare you and to give you the Horn, if you bring the Scepter to me.” He leaned close, his breath hot on my face. “Think. You wowed to get the Horn to Shannon. Itax said you’ll be disappointed, even if the plan goes well. Your friends have another plan you will hate. And Itax
will
try to cheat you all. I’m
giving
you the Horn, and I cannot lie if we make the Pact.”
I opened my mouth to argue.
He was right.
If the Pact bound him, his deal was the best one in the game. I had no idea what a Dragon Pact meant, not really. Shannon had cheated him with her death, but she had faced a magical demise if she had been alive and failed in the terms of their deal. “Wait. A Dragon Pact? You—”
He sighed. “We are running out of time,
Ulrich.
They’ll come soon. If you’ll give me the Scepter, Ulrich, if you give it to my hands, I’ll do the following. Listen carefully. You will give me the Scepter, and I’ll give you the Horn, and see you and your surviving friends safely out of Svartalfheim, anywhere you wish to go. I’ll not come after you for a year. I’ll even clean Shannon’s blood off that wound. This is the Pact I offer.”
Shannon’s blood
? There was Shannon’s blood in mine? So it wasn’t a curse, but the blood of Hand of Hel? “They—”
He smirked at my confusion. “I smell it. Eris suspected it, no doubt, but I have met Shannon. You’ve guessed why they did that to you. It will make sense, if you understand how the dead think. They made a potent weapon out of you, and perhaps they think you can be healed. But for Shannon, your death is not a big issue.”
“It is! She wouldn’t—”
“Your death is an opportunity for her to bring you back as she is,” he chortled. “Death is no problem the Hand of Hel cannot handle. But this is the Pact I’m offering.
You
only have to place the Scepter in my hands. This I swear. The Pact will know if I lie, and it will stop my heart. The best Pact there ever was.”
I was nodding. “I still do not know what Kiera and Thak hoped I’d do.”
“Matters not,” he smiled toothily. “You’ll see soon enough. This is our only hope, yours and mine. And perhaps your Shannon’s, since Itax will betray you all.”
“Will I betray them?” I whispered. “I made an oath to Shannon. I will not break it. No matter what she did to me. At least not fully.”
“A fool you are, Ulrich, with all the lies you have been told,” he said and shimmered to a human-sized, thick-shouldered man with darkness for a face and a mask over his mouth. “But the choice is yours. You may do with the Horn as you will. The Horn will be yours. I cannot lie if you accept the Pact. Take it to Shannon, then. Agree? And you will fail to please them anyway.”
I rubbed my face. “Fail them? I’ve done shitty deeds for them already. What makes you think I won’t just keep doing this shit again?”
He snorted. “Your heart. You will see. You cannot do the deeds they expect you to do. It’s not in you. No more. Take the Pact, Ulrich.”
I nodded. I had little to lose. I clutched the mirror and tucked it under my belt. “I will hand you the Scepter for the Gjallarhorn. You will deliver us where we want to go, safe. And you will not attack us for one year. I agree.”