Huge did not even begin to describe him. This man was as big as the sky itself.

  No mountain, no cliff, could compare to the scale of the figure. He was clearly very, very far away. The blue of the air created a strange, misty haze that made the details of the figure fuzzy.

  The huge figure moved very slowly, reminding Ronan of a cloud bank changing off in the distance. If you looked directly at it, you did not see it move, but if you looked away for a moment, it changed position.

  The figure was dressed in what seemed like a long, well-made robe, his enormous hands swinging by his side. He was clean-shaven and short-haired, and an alert and amused look was on his face. The three friends watched in unabashed amazement as this unimaginably huge man walked across the sky, then turned and disappeared away from them, into the haze.

  Eric was the first one to remember what they were doing. “We need to keep moving,” he said.

  The others were stirred from their amazement by his words. Neither of them could speak, but they saw the sense in what Eric said and moved again.

  The three of them hurried off down the hill, all of them feeling utterly amazed by what they had just seen. Was this a god? If so, it was like no god that any of them had ever come across in their time in the Twelve Isles. Even the most powerful of deities, like the Night God, were in their way close to humans in character and scale.

  Gods were like very powerful people, wise patrons who granted powers and protection to their acolytes. Perhaps, Ronan considered, what they had just seen was one of the greater beings that Fury had alluded to. Fury had said that there were other, greater creatures — gods of the gods, so to speak. Bigger beings that were above the beings that the folk of the human world thought of as gods.

  “My head’s spinning,” Eric said as they made their way down the hill and through the trees. “I never thought I should see such a thing.”

  “It’s incredible,” Diana agreed. “I suppose, as Fury said, we must be the first humans to have entered the realms of the gods for generations.”

  “I wish we had a bit more knowledge of the lie of the land,” Ronan muttered. “This is totally new country for me, and it would be good to have more of an idea of where we were going.”

  “Nothing that can be done about that now,” Eric said. “I’m just glad we’re armed. I didn’t like the look of those black-armored flying creatures and what they said about mounted warriors coming in pursuit…”

  Even as he spoke, there was a sound like drumming hoofbeats through the quiet of the forest. The trees were thick here, and a rider would struggle to move through them quickly. The three assassins looked at each other, and Ronan glanced up.

  “Into the trees,” he said. “We’ll drop down on the riders if we can.”

  The pursuers came on slowly, three men in black chainmail and similar armor to that of the pursuers from earlier. They wore tall helmets of black steel that gleamed beautifully with gold inlay and glinting jewels flashing in the sun. Under the helmets, the warriors had the same statuesque, faintly inhuman beauty to their faces. They were humanoid in form, but they looked too perfect like the idealized vision of what a human being should look like, rather than how they really looked.

  The riders were armed with spears, but they held these couched under their left arms, their right hands holding bared swords. The spears were too long for the cramped conditions of the forest. Even the swords seemed over large for this environment, and the horses were heavy, charging warhorses, not the lighter mounts that one would expect from scouts.

  In all, Ronan thought, these three looked like they were part of a force of mounted heavy cavalry who had been dispatched in a hurry on a job that light scouts should have been used for.

  He smiled, recognizing the knowledge of different classes of military strength that came from Valandrus, god of the fighter’s guild, rather than from the stealthy knowledge of the Night God.

  Valandrus, he thought. Perhaps there is a way we can get in touch with him? After all, this is the realm of the gods. Presumably, he is here. Where do the gods themselves live? We will have to find our way there.

  At that moment, his thoughts were brought swiftly back to the situation at hand as the three riders changed course. They had been about to pass the assassins by, but now one of them paused and spoke to the others in a clear, deep voice.

  “There,” he said, “by that tree. There are marks of feet in the dirt. The fugitives went that way.”

  “Well spotted,” said another. “We’ll get these interlopers and return them to Mala. He’ll know what to do with them.”

  “Aye,” said the third, “they can go with the cursed dragons.”

  “Hush,” the first rider snapped. “We don’t speak of that. Come on. Enough chatter. Let’s find these interlopers and get back to the city.”

  At that moment, the three riders came right under the trees where the assassins hid. Ronan’s dagger was in his hand, and a glance at his friends showed their blades at the ready as well. The timing was perfect. The riders were intent on the ground below them, looking for traces as they moved into position beneath the trees.

  At almost exactly the same time, the three assassins dropped onto their targets. Ronan drew his dagger swiftly across the throat of his man, and a glance showed him that the other two were being dispatched with as much efficiency by Eric and Diana.

  Blood squirted out across the clearing, and the horses shied and high-stepped. The assassins shoved their dying targets from the saddle, and the soldiers fell with a crash. Ronan slipped into the saddle and spoke soothingly to his great horse, who snorted and rolled his eye at Ronan but then calmed.

  The others were doing the same.

  “This way,” Ronan said curtly. “Get the horses away from the smell of the blood. Tie them up.”

  His instructions were quickly carried out. Only a few moments later, all three were back in the place of death. They turned the strange soldiers over, and Ronan began rifling through the belt pouch of the man nearest him.

  “Coins, a few potions, nothing else,” Eric said.

  “Similar here,” Diana said in a cold voice.

  Ronan’s man had much the same contents in his leather belt pouch, but then Ronan found the man had something else.

  “A scroll,” Ronan said. He drew the paper out and unrolled it. “It’s a map!”

  The paper was of fine quality, thick and heavy. It was varnished with some kind of thick but flexible substance, waterproofing the ink from the weather.

  “There will be more soldiers out after us soon,” Ronan said. “What will we do? Shall we dress in this armor? It might conceal us at a glance, but it’ll not conceal us for long. We can’t pretend to be these soldiers. We don’t look anything like them.”

  Eric shook his head. “There’s no use in that. Let’s use the horses to get away from here as quickly as we can, then have a closer look at that map. The armor will just weigh us down.”

  Diana agreed, and together, they dragged the bodies into the shade of the trees and concealed them with fallen branches. Ronan was keenly aware that there was no sign of ghosts rising from these soldiers, but whether that was because Ronan had lost the ability to see ghosts when he’d lost his Night God powers or whether it was because these strange-looking soldiers did not have ghosts he could not tell.

  They rode steadily through the woods. The forest ran down into a deep valley, and the companions moved up the left slope, keeping within the trees but always climbing toward the top of the long ridge of hills that enclosed the valley on its western side. After about an hour’s steady going, they came to the edge of the trees.

  “Let’s leave the horses,” Ronan said. “There’s less chance of being seen by airborne scouts if we’re not mounted.”

  They got off the horses and tied them by the reins to a tree. The beasts were magnificent; huge, gleaming black warhorses with long manes and beautiful, elaborate saddles and ornate bridles. They were well-trained, too; after some initial doubt, they had taken to their new riders without question, bearing them placidly through the tangled trees toward the top of the ridge.

  Now they accepted being lashed to the trees with complete calm. The reins were long, and the horses were able to browse at the grass.

  “That’s not necessary, you know,” a deep, faintly amused voice said to Ronan as he finished tying the reins of his horse to the tree and turned away. With a surge of shock, he whirled and looked for the source of the voice, his hand reaching for his dagger.

  There was no one there.

  Eric and Diana, who had gone a bit farther away toward the tree line, had turned also.

  Ronan’s blade was in his hand, but there was no one but the horses. The trio of horses, and the biggest of the three was gazing at Ronan with a very perceptive gaze.

  “Not necessary at all,” the horse said.

  Ronan closed his eyes for a moment. The horse could talk. Why was he surprised? This was the realm of the gods, after all. Perhaps it was foolish to think that things here would follow the same rules as in the world of people.

  Ronan cleared his throat and addressed the horse with as much composure as he could. Behind him, he heard Diana and Eric advancing warily.

  “I do beg you pardon,” Ronan said to the horse. “I had no idea you were able to speak. What’s not necessary?”

  The horse swung his great head toward the tree. “Tying our reins to the tree, of course,” he said. “We won’t run away. We’re quite supportive of you and your cause. In fact, you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened since the dragons were brought in.”

  The other two horses lifted their heads and regarded Ronan solemnly. Their mouths were full of grass, and they were chewing with great contentment. Whether this was why they didn’t speak, or whether it was because they could not, Ronan did not know, but he thought it polite to address them both, too.

  “You know about the dragons?” he asked. The two chewing horses regarded him thoughtfully, then dropped their heads to browse the grass again.

  The leader, the biggest of the three, continued speaking. “We do,” he said. “We saw them come in through the portal above the Pantheon Palace, where the gods live. Our stables are there, you see, and we saw it all. Oh, it caused quite the stir. Seraphs running everywhere, and minor godlings waking up, and the major gods and goddesses trying to keep order. My, my, what a to-do. I’ve not seen so much excitement for many moons. Most refreshing.”

  Ronan was working hard to keep his utter astonishment from his face. The horse’s manner was so placid and relaxed that Ronan felt sure he would respond badly if Ronan became excited or asked too many questions too fast. He felt a steady, polite response was called for.

  “I am very glad to hear you support us,” he said.

  “But of course!” the horse replied and pulled his lips back from his big teeth in a kind of smile. “Why we could have thrown you and stomped you back there at the clearing, but we chose not to. That’s deliberate — to show you we can be trusted! So don’t worry. Yes, we’re all in favor of the dragons being restored to the earth and of the portals between the realm of the gods and the realms of men being opened up. We say it would be much better for everyone.”

  “We?” Ronan asked. “You mean, the horses of this realm?”

  “The horses, yes, but also the cats, dogs, snakes, lizards, birds, cows, pigs, insects… the goats… the… ah… what was I saying?” The horse was gazing up into the air and seemed to have lost his thread.

  If he was a human, Ronan thought, he would snap his fingers, trying to remember his place.

  “I think you were saying that all the animals of this realm support the cause of dragons, not just the horses?” Ronan suggested.

  “Of course they do!” the horse replied. “For we all understand that the joining of realms is part of the plan of the fates. We must all abide by the plans of the fates. It’s very important, but the Keepers have forgotten it.”

  “You’ve mentioned a few names that I don’t understand,” Ronan said. “Keepers, Seraphs, and the Pantheon Palace. Will you explain a bit more about this world to us so we may plan better what to do?”

  “Why not ride while we talk,” the horse suggested genially. “There’s little point stopping here. If you get back on my back, and your friends mount up as well, we’ll take you through the valley and round to the other side, and then you may see the Pantheon Palace for yourself, and we can talk as we go.”

  “Very well,” Ronan said. “Thank you.”

  The great horse nodded his head, and Ronan unhitched him from the tree. He and his friends mounted up and let the biggest of the three horses take the lead.

  “And now,” the great beast said, “I’ll tell you the truth about the great trouble that has assailed us here in the realm of the gods, and I’ll tell you what you can do to fix it.”

  Chapter 16

  Ronan looked at his friends, and they all nodded in agreement. They would go with these speaking horses and learn what advice they had to give.

  Ronan climbed back up onto the leader’s back, and his friends climbed into the saddles of the other two.

  “You were going in entirely the wrong direction,” the lead horse informed them sagely. “Here is the path through the forest. This way, we’ll avoid detection from any of the airborne Seraph soldiers.”

  “What are the Seraphs?” Ronan asked.

  “Ah, yes,” the horse replied in his absent-minded way, then fell silent. A few moments later he said, “What?”

  “I asked who the Seraphs are. And, for that matter, who are the Keepers?”

  “Of course you did, of course you did. Well, the Keepers are the people who look after the needs of the gods, who look after their realm and keep everything running. They act as guards, some as soldiers, and others as servants. They do what’s required to keep everything in order, you see. Keepers.”

  “And so those we killed, they were Keepers? And the winged creatures we saw earlier?”

  “No, they were Seraph soldiers. The Seraphs are beings made from raw soul. The stuff of consciousness that has dispersed from those who have died. They have no souls themselves, but they are intelligent and efficient, created in the image of humans. ”

  “And what of the white-robed figures in the city that we saw from the sea?”

  “They are Keepers; the minor inhabitants of this world. Those you saw were administrators and lowly workers, most likely. They are not human, but they are close to being so.”

  “And what about the Pantheon Palace?” Ronan asked, feeling he had struck a rich vein of information. “That’s where we’re going now?”

  “Yes,” the horse replied. “You’ll see it in a moment. The Pantheon Palace is the dwelling place of the gods and home to the assembly rooms where they conduct their most important business.”

  They were riding along through the dense edge of the woodland, following the line of the ridge under the warm sun. The whole atmosphere of the realm of the gods, as Ronan had remarked before, was a little too beautiful. The sun shone down steadily on them, but it didn’t seem quite real. The trees were shapely and the grass a sparkling emerald green, but there was a dreamlike unreality to it all that made Ronan feel uneasy. Time did not seem to have passed since they had arrived here, the sun hardly — if at all — moving across the sky.

  Almost as if it was all a sophisticated illusion, he thought. He did not say it out loud, because the horses, too, had that strange and unbelievable perfection to them like idealized ideas of horses, rather than horses themselves.

  “Tell me,” Diana asked suddenly, “what was that huge figure we saw in the sky? He seemed to be walking across the very sky itself. I’ve never seen anything so enormous.”

  “Oh, that would be one of the overlords,” the horse replied. “You are lucky to have seen one. There are not that many of them, and they do not often show themselves. The fact that you have seen one of the overlords makes me even more sure that I’m doing the right thing in helping you. Most of the time, a human would not even be able to perceive an overlord. But I believe that things have gotten so bad recently that the overlords are taking notice of the situation and are engineering events to bring about the downfall of Mala and his followers. You, I think, are the tool that will bring about that downfall. Perhaps you are part of the spell that the overlords are weaving to bring peace again to the realm of the gods.”

  “So Mala is behind it all, as we thought?” Eric asked.

  “He and his followers. The gods — even the major deities like Mala — are not immune to hubris and ambition. Mala and his followers have decided that they have a right to exclusive worship by people in the human world. He recruited dedicated followers both here and in the human realm and managed things so that a whole kingdom worshiped him exclusively — to the detriment of all the other gods.”

  “The Kingdom of Ghennet,” Diana confirmed. “We’ve been there, and we’ve destroyed the agents of Mala in that land.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Exclusive worship like that gives gods more and more power until they get an inflated idea of their own importance and have the power to act upon that sense of their place in the world to gather even more power. The one who is the god of the night, and of death, set himself against Mala and opposed his continued gathering of power and influence. They fought, but Mala’s power was great, and through trickery, he defeated and imprisoned the Night God in a deep dungeon under the Pantheon Palace.”

  As he spoke, the horse carried them down a short slope and suddenly out onto a well-paved road made with cleanly laid bright-red stone. The road led downhill, and the companions were borne along it at a good pace until, suddenly, they came out from under the trees and saw a deep inland valley laid out before them. In the valley, there was the most breathtaking city any of them had ever seen.

  Diana gasped.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Eric said under his breath.

  “Be careful,” the horse warned them. “You would not be the first humans to be captivated by the beauty of it. It’s not always healthy for humans.”

 

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