The god faded from the darkened room. With his departure, everything felt dimmer, though the candles burned no less than before.

  Lars nodded them to follow. He turned about, returning to the solid flooring at the entrance to the vast chamber, then exiting. In the chapel, the two hooded attendants departed.

  "Now that was something," Blays said. "But one thing's got me confused. Why do the gods spend so little time in their own world?"

  Dante glanced behind them. "Don't you remember? It's a danger to them. Even the gods aren't invincible."

  "Gashen can't really think we pose a threat to him, can he? I might be a threat to steal his wife, sure, but not to kill him."

  Lars looked puzzled. "It's true that our lords rarely venture outside their own realms for this reason. But there is much more to it than that. The figure you just saw was impressive, wasn't he?"

  "Yeah, in about the same way you'd say a mountain has some rocks in it."

  "But what you saw is only a small part of what he is. The only part that can manifest here. To manifest diminishes them in just the same way it would diminish you to try to squeeze yourself into a thimble. Their minds are very uncomfortable to be so limited. Especially when they know that dying here in their diminished form kills their full form as well."

  "Fair enough. But it turns out I'm not terribly interested in trying to force myself down into a thimble. So why would the gods want to create a world for themselves that they can't even live in?"

  "They didn't build these worlds for themselves!" Lars laughed. "They built them for us."

  He showed them to their quarters and told them to prepare for a meal of celebration. They were packing a lot of grime from the road and it was going to take plenty of time to make themselves presentable.

  Even so, the first thing Dante did when they got to their rooms was to hold the second piece of the spear for himself—and to silently wonder if they'd be capable of gaining the rest.

  ~

  For the sake of politeness, Dante meant to restrain himself from beginning serious talks with Lars about what would come next until after their second cup of beer. But the evening's feast was so absurd that he found himself too occupied with food, drink, and the well-wishes of well-built men and women to even broach the subject with the general. As it turned out, the diet of the Denhild was very high in beef—though sometimes they branched out into a dish with beef broth or marrow—and spicy-tasting greens. It was only when the whole thing was over that Dante realized the only things he'd seen that even resembled bread had been the wrappers on the beef dumplings, and the multiple varieties of beer.

  Rather than sequestering themselves in some private room, Lars eventually just ordered everyone else out. Glasses of something stronger were poured. At that point Dante didn't particularly need it, but after all the chasing about through the wilderness, he kind of did.

  "If Gashen is serious about offering help," he said, "we're extremely ready to take it."

  Lars leaned back in his chair. "For one thing, you need better horses. Yours look like you stole them from somebody's farm."

  "I don't know what you mean. But I'm talking about more than provisions and such. The situation in our world is extremely tenuous. We have to accelerate our progress. We were told that if Gashen was convinced to let us borrow his spear piece, others would follow suit. Do you think this is true?"

  "Certainly."

  One of the many weights on Dante's shoulders dropped away. "Please tell me that everyone will?"

  Lars and Gladdic both chuckled. The general swirled his cup. "Taim will remain unbent until the end. I have little to no hope for Silidus, either."

  "I thought that if there was one thing you could count on Silidus for, it's that you never know how she's going to decide."

  "In most cases. But Silidus is nothing if not a survivor. She'll fear Taim's wrath. With the ramna on the march, she'll be even more wary of exposing herself. And Blays annoyed her badly enough that she won't forget it."

  "Is there anyone else who we know can't be swayed?"

  Lars counted off names on his fingers. "Now that one god has broken ranks, Carvahal will jump at the chance to spite Taim. Lia has never been happy that Taim would let an entire world of growth and life die, and even if she hesitates, you could use Simm to convince her to your side. Phannon's mind is less known to me, but she is always one to adhere to Taim's word. She could be a difficulty. Barrod carries enough honor that he will now let you quest for his piece. Arawn would prefer to stay beyond the politics, but the wider you open the door by winning the other pieces, the more he'll be convinced to follow the old agreement and let you try for his. And Urt? Well, Urt will always be Urt."

  "Unknowable."

  "That's one way to put it."

  "This is not true," Gladdic said. "Urt will let us vie for his part."

  Lars laughed, throwing his elbow over the back of his chair. "Did he crawl out of his barrel and tell you that himself?"

  "Urt does not always keep himself hidden away. He emerges in cycles. The Eiden Rane is on the verge of ending one age and beginning another. Urt will wish to allow us to prove whether or not the age is due for such change."

  The general nodded thoughtfully. "You're a scholar. But I can tell by the look of you that you're not afraid to wade into the thick of battle. These days, that's a rare thing."

  Gladdic gave a small shrug.

  Blays drained his cup and set it down with a clink loud enough to attract a servant. "Maybe it's time to do as our scholar-warrior suggests and start working on the hard cases. We're not sure if Phannon will support us, and we know Silidus will never go for it. And both of their realms are nearby. If I didn't know better, I'd say the gods were giving us a sign."

  "Of what?" Dante said. "Gashen and Silidus' kingdoms being right next to each other, which is why we met the good general in the first place?"

  "For a High Priest, you're mighty skeptical. But I've got an easy way to find out who's right: we invade Silidus' realm and see if we win."

  "Excellent plan. I'll just need a few centuries to domesticate the drakelets and breed them into giant war-dragons."

  "Or we could just use the giant ramna army that's right over there."

  "An army that's currently looking to reduce Phannon's territory to a pile of floating garbage."

  "Unless we turn them against Silidus instead."

  Dante squinted one eye. "Earning Phannon's favor in the process. And if Silidus is that jumpy about her survival, we can use the threat of invasion to ransom her spear part away from her."

  Gladdic grunted. "If I had had you two as my lieutenants years ago, I would have conquered everything from Allingham to Dara Bode, and the Eiden Rane would never have grown the power to break from his prison."

  "How in blazes do you mean to get the ramna to do your bidding?" Lars looked highly amused. "By reasoning with them?"

  "Oh, we're old friends with the ramna," Blays said. "You've heard the story of how we got your axe back. Couldn't have done it without them."

  "Even having heard the story, I hardly believe it. The ramna ally with no one!"

  "Turns out they just really don't like you guys."

  Dante rubbed his mouth. "We're not likely to find better conditions than this. If the plan works, we'll pick up two more shards in a handful of days."

  "I doubt this will go as you hope," Lars said. "But I will hope to be proven wrong. What can the land of Denhild do to help?"

  "It's better if we handle this leg of things by ourselves. No offense, but if the ramna catch so much as a whiff of divine interference, they'll offer us up on one of their funeral platforms."

  The general chuckled. "If you think you can offend me by suggesting the ramna might not care for us, then you have no idea how many ramna I've killed."

  "You may be able to help us in other arenas, though. Anything you can do to hasten our gathering of the other parts of the spear."

  "Did you have anything specific in mind?"

  "You'd know better than I do. Maybe you can convince those that are friendly to lend us their pieces without bothering to go through any trials. Or maybe you can convince those that are wavering to come over to our side." Dante leaned forward, hands spread on the table. "My people and my homeland are on the brink of being destroyed. After that, the lich will sweep through Gask, adding a million or more to his Blighted—and adding their souls to his individual strength. At that point, even with the spear, he may be too powerful to kill."

  "I don't know how much we can do." Lars met his eye. "But it will be all that we can."

  ~

  Their new horses were things of wonder: sleek and lean, yet with a look of tireless strength, a combination that reminded Dante of the dolphins that liked the coasts south of Bressel. The animals were so well-bred he instantly regretted not having stolen them at the very start of their venture.

  They deserved saddles dazzling with jewels and silver, but that would have given away their origins, and so they disgraced the great beasts with plain saddles that wouldn't raise an eyebrow among the ramna.

  Even as alternates, their old horses wouldn't be able to keep up, and Lars called for a groom to take them away.

  "Be sure to keep them safe?" Dante said.

  Lars patted the horse's flank. "Sentimental attachment?"

  "Something like that."

  Dante had allowed himself to sleep in late, and it was past nine in the morning before they were ready to be off. As they made ready to go, Lars approached him.

  "You're resourceful types. I hope you'll have no cause to use this, and if you do that it's not used lightly. But if you find yourself in danger you see no way out of, shed a drop of blood on this and we will do what we can for you."

  He handed Dante an iron disk with the profile of a lion raised on each side.

  Dante flipped it over in its palm. "How will you know where we are?"

  "This is the class of gift you don't get to ask questions about. Don't lose it, either."

  "I'll try not to," Dante said. "Just so you know, if something goes terribly wrong and we provoke the ramna into coming to attack you instead, rest assured we didn't mean to."

  Lars snorted and clapped him on the back. Dante mounted his horse and Blays led them through the six gates out of Denhild. They meant to stay off the road wherever possible, so Blays used the sun and the eastern mountains to orient them toward the waterways of Phannon's land.

  "What happens if the Jessel aren't among the ramna?" Blays said once they were underway.

  "Then we figure something else out."

  "What happens if the Jessel are there, but they can't stop their buddies from sacking Phannon?"

  "Then we figure a different else out for that if."

  "I can't help but notice these aren't really answers."

  "I can't help but notice that if your questions are so damn good, you should have asked them last night."

  "If they wanted me to think good, they shouldn't have given me so much beer."

  They spent a little time getting used to their horses at a trot, then spurred them to a canter that was possibly the fastest and smoothest Dante had ever seen. After slowing to a walk to let them rest, they broke into a full gallop. The horses all but hovered over the grass, charging along with a speed that made Dante's eyes water from the wind. They ran them all-out until they tired out—which Blays estimated took at least four miles, maybe even five.

  "Now these are some horses," Blays said as they dropped back to a walk. "Suppose we can take them back through the Mists with us?"

  "That is a good question," Dante said. "Although we'd better make sure they're a gift and not a loan first. I'd rather not give Gashen a reason to test his new axe on our necks."

  Dante refreshed the horses with the shadows and increased his speed. Despite the lateness of their start, they still had plenty of daylight ahead of them when they caught their first glimpse of sunlight shimmering on the many rivers that surrounded and in some cases flowed through Phannon's realm of Crosswater. Dante hadn't been certain that they'd arrive in time to stop the sacking and was heartened by the lack of smoke that would suggest the city had been razed.

  The ramna army cohered into view, the riders so numerous that they appeared to be a feature of the landscape, dark cataracts of horses and men. The barbarians advanced leisurely toward Crosswater, a distant and hazy urban blur protected by various moats and fortifications. The ramna wouldn't reach it by nightfall, but they could easily be upon it in the morning.

  The three outlanders caught up close enough to start making out the banners and dress of individual war bands while staying far enough away to (hopefully) avoid provoking the ramna into coming over to stomp them. Dozens of individual bands had gathered together for the great raid to come, but there were untold numbers of different ramna peoples scattered across the Realm of Nine Kings and it was impossible to say what the odds were that the Jessel were among them.

  Luck favored them, however—or else Dasya's aggression did—for Blays spotted yellow flags flying from long spears, and the white skulls on their horses and shields and helmets confirmed them as the Jessel. The nature of their plan, as well as the nature of the ramna, meant that they couldn't approach their old traveling companions directly, but after a bit of careful maneuvering through the brush, and some subtle manipulations of the nether to catch the eye of a wandering Jessel scout, they secured an audience with Dasya early that night.

  He came alone. As before, his face was painted white, with thick black outlines around his eyes and mouth. "Friends to the Jessel! Have you come to help us smash Crosswater into dust?" He leaned forward, sniffing at them. "You smell like gods."

  "Probably all the sweat," Blays said. "It's a common mistake."

  "Who is this?" Dasya gestured to Gladdic. "Is he to be trusted?"

  "He was once our worst enemy," Dante said. "But after a sequence of strange events, Blays is the only living person I trust more."

  "Mortal foe won over to blood brother. I would much like to hear that story!"

  "It isn't over yet. But once it is, if we can find our way back here, I'd be honored if one of the Jessel could craft it into an epic like the one you told us about Sallen."

  Dasya lifted his eyebrows and nodded. "That could be an honor for the Jessel as well. And after tomorrow, we will have a new cycle to tell of ourselves!"

  "That's what we're here about," Dante said carefully. "We're still making progress in our mission. In fact, I think we're about to make a major breakthrough. But if you attack Phannon tomorrow, it could destroy our hopes."

  "How can that be? Are the gods not your enemies as well?"

  "I'll be honest with you, Dasya—and I hope I'm not about to get punched for this—but we've made an alliance of sorts with Gashen. That's opened many doors for us. We believe Phannon will help us now, too."

  "Which will be a lot harder for her to do if her head is on a pole," Blays put in.

  The paint on Dasya's face sometimes made it harder to read him. At other times it exaggerated his expressions. Now, he was looking very confused, even angry, and it was hard to tell if it was just the paint.

  "But don't worry," Blays added quickly. "There's plenty of other gods we can go mount on poles, or stretch out on platforms, or slap about the face until they start crying and then we threaten to tell their friends that they're little crying babies."

  "You will tell me what you are proposing. In clear words."

  Dante shifted in the saddle. "We need you to go after Silidus instead."

  Dasya gazed at him. "Why would we do that when Phannon is the one who has been warring against us?"

  "Because Phannon's only doing that on the orders of Taim, and she's about to start disobeying him. That means no more attacks on your people. Silidus is another matter. She'll hold the line. That's where the threat to you lies now."

  "Threat? The ramna—and the Jessel—have always survived their 'threats.' For whenever they remember their spirit enough to stop huddling behind their walls and face us on the grass, we crush them."

  "Then it seems like crushing Silidus would be just as effective to your ends as going after Phannon."

  Dasya laughed. "Making them fear us is not why we ride out and fight. Phannon is the one who stole blood from us. Honor demands we reclaim it from her, not one of the others."

  "You see, the problem with that strategy is it completely screws us over," Dante said. "So how about we team up to go ransom Silidus instead? We get the part of the weapon we're searching for, and you get…well, everything else in the city."

  "That cannot be done. Even if you could convince me to march on Silidus, I would hold no hope of convincing the other bands to follow."

  "Could you try anyway?"

  The large man laughed lowly. "If I tried something so foolish, I would be mocked. My people would be disgraced by me."

  "Then how about we try to convince them instead?"

  This drew louder laughter. "You would have a better chance of winning a wrestling match with the Great Bear of the Western Slopes!"

  "Sure, if we were to use something stupid like words," Blays said. "It'll be much more effective to raid them in their camp while pretending to have been sent by Silidus."

  "Attacking under false colors? That is an unclean deed!"

  "Yeah, well, dirty times call for unclean deeds."

  Dasya looked between them. "I thought you were honorable men."

  "I like to try," Blays said, quite serious all of a sudden. "But mostly, we're whatever we need to be."

  "This is not a solution."

  "Then what can we do for you to make it one?"

  Dasya swung his head to the side, jaw tight. "You do not understand, Fallen Lander. We're here to turn Crosswater to ashes and Phannon's joy to grief. There is nothing you can offer us that is better than these things."

  "My offer might not be better," Dante said. "But you're going to take it anyway."

  "Do you make threats of me?"

  "I will put this very simply. The lives of everyone in the Fallen Land hang in the balance. I will do whatever it takes to save them."

 

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