Chapter 10

Day 7:

The stairs went on for miles. They weren’t steep, but twisted and turned such that John quickly lost his bearings. He kept their pace slow, to give Hal time to scout and kept them from stumbling into a situation they couldn’t handle. Several times the Cambion returned with news that the stairs ended at a naturally occurring cavern before resuming. They cautiously examined each one, but all appeared to be natural voids in the rock. After Mason informed John that he’d been walking for eight hours, the former soldier told the others that they should find a place to camp. Halphis found another cavern only an hour later, and after carefully checking it out, they elected to use it.

They chiseled a hole in the floor to stand their torches up. The blue-white flame emitted no heat, and seemed to consume no fuel, so John felt they could sleep without worrying about them going out. Using their packs as pillows, and laying out their cloaks to lie on, the group tried to sleep. Treb had to curl up with his mother, since he’d lost his cloak sliding through the hole.

“Shon?” Halphis asked.

“Yes Hal?” He answered.

“Why do you shorten my name like that?” The other wondered.

“It’s something people do where I’m from. When you’ve known someone a while, or have become more than just an acquaintance, you give them what we call a nickname. It denotes friendship.” John explained.

“So you are doing this to show I am accepted, not to be cruel?” The Cambion reasoned.

“Why would I be cruel to you?” John asked.

“Where I am from, none care for friends. There are only those you serve, and those you dominate. Cruelty is a common way to show mastery over another.” Halphis replied.

“Well, you’re our scout. I’m ... we’re showing trust in you. Depending on you to find problems so we can address them from a position of strength. Being mean to you undermines that bond of trust. If it helps, you can call me Pan, if you want.” John offered.

“Why should I use that name? Wouldn’t Shon be enough?” The half-Infernal asked.

“You can stick with John, too. No problem.” John conceded, sighing to himself.

“What does Pan mean?” Syg asked.

“It is shortened from Pancake. That was my ... uh, war name where I am from. It is a word which means a thin round piece of bread eaten at breakfast.” John tried to explain. “But we have a saying that it means something made very thin by pounding on it, or crushing it from above.”

“And someone did this to you? Pounded you into thinness?” Hal asked.

“No, my friend,” John grinned. “I flattened someone else.”

“Ah! I understand. Thank you ... my ... friend. I shall look for a chance to let you do this to our foes. I wish to see it for myself.” Hal laid back down.

“Can I call you Pan?” Treb asked tentatively.

“Sure. I call you Treb, don’t I?” He said.

“Yeah.” John could hear the smile in the boy’s voice.

They slept for what John’s support team told him was nine hours. That put it at around midday outside, he believed. Not that it made any difference inside the mountain. After a brief meal, of bread, salted meat and water, they pushed on.

A couple of hours later, Hal came hurrying back.

“We might be in trouble.” He frowned. “The way is blocked!”

“Blocked by what?” John asked. “Did the ceiling collapse, or does the stair just end?”

“No, no. Just around the corner, the stairs become flat and wide, like a landing. But just beyond, there is a wall of ice completely blocking the way.” He described.

“But nothing you would call an enemy?” John confirmed.

“Not on this side.” Hal hedged. “I can’t see through, but there’s light beyond the ice. Or inside it.”

“Let’s take a look.” John decided.

The four continued up as the stairs gradually curved to the right, then straightened again. Hal was correct, the stairs came to level ground, and the walls turned away. The ceiling was three times higher than the stairs, and a wall of ice rose from floor to ceiling, slightly curved and meeting the walls far to their left and right. On this side, part of the landing they could get to was crescent shaped. Blue-white light shone through the opaque obstacle, brightly enough that they could see without the torches. Close inspection did not reveal any more clues about getting around the blockage.

“What do you think?” John asked Syg.

“We found no other path.” She argued. “And cannot go back. We must find a way through.”

“This is going to take a while, and make a lot of noise.” John commented. “One of us will have to remain on guard while the rest try to break through.”

“I’ll do it.” Treb offered. “I’m weakest.”

Syg nodded. “He will remain vigilant.”

Treb grinned.

Their only tools were hand-held boring screws and hammer and chisel. Syg took the hammer, while Hal agreed to use his indestructible saber point to start a channel so John could work the screw. When Hal set his blade to the ice, a voice spoke behind them.

“I can show you the best place to do that, if you pass my test.”

The three whirled, hands going to weapons.

“Hey!” Treb shouted. “Stay back!” He leveled his spear.

Several steps down stood a figure. Slightly translucent, outlined by blue-white border. Two ghostly worgh sat at his feet, one facing them while the other looked behind him. The border outlined a bird on each of his shoulders, though they couldn’t make out any details to identify a species. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, and a shaggy cloak was draped across his back. A long beard hid most of his face, but they could see an eye-patch covering one socket. He held a spear, long enough that Syg would’ve found it appropriate. An armor cuirass peeked from beneath his coat. His boots and trousers appeared well-worn, and he exuded an aura of solidity at odds with his non-solid form.

That’s Odin! Melvin exclaimed in English.

John was so surprised he repeated Melvin aloud, without translating.

Syg looked at him. “What did you say?”

The figure cocked his head, but said nothing.

“Sorry,” John apologized, “he looks like a person of legend in my world. We called him Odin.”

“Your world?” The figure asked. “What do you mean? Are you not Alfair? I was well known to them by my correct name. Has so much changed?”

“I’m a Nord, though of Fey heritage.” John replied. “What is your ‘correct name’?”

“Would it not be polite to name yourselves first?” He asked back.

“It would.” John admitted. “My name is John. Beside me are my companions: Treb, Halphis and Sygraid.”

The others nodded when he named them. The figure returned each one.

“Welcome to the Halls of Valor, I am Wotaanz. You are the first living I’ve seen in a very long time, not counting my daughters and the beast. How came you to enter my Halls by this path?” He introduced himself.

Wotan, Woden and other combinations are various names for Odin. He was the head of the Norse pantheon in Viking mythology.

Thanks. John sent back.

“We come to Challenge the dragon.” Syg answered. She tilted her head towards Hal. “We are told she must accept and may not kill us directly.”

“What do you Challenge her to do?” Wotaanz asked.

Hal told an abbreviated form of his story.

“I remember when the dragon Arrived.” Wotaanz said sadly. “Her magic flooded the Halls, draining the Valorous of their energy to fuel her own servants. The heroes tried to fight back, but by the time we realized our predicament it was too late. My daughters tell me the dragon’s servants roam the Halls with impunity. How will you get past them?”

Syg and Hal displayed their weapons.

“We will fight when we have to.” John said. “And hide when we can. Our goal is to reach her lair, in the arena. Not to kill every one of her servants.”

Wotaanz regarded them for a moment.

“If you pass my test, I will help you.” He told them. “But you must do something for me in return.”

“We’ll gladly take your help.” John agreed. “But we need to know what you’re offering, and what you expect us to do.”

“Yes, that is fair.” Wotaanz replied. “But first a test of your skill and resolve. I’ll not let you enter without demonstrating your worthiness.”

A cloud of vapor rose up from the stone floor and obscured the worgh at his feet. The amorphous blob condensed, filling out the worgh’s body with a blue-gray surface. The beast’s eyes glowed blue-white, like their torches and it began stalking forward.

“Defend yourselves, he will hurt you if you let him.” Wotaanz warned them.

Sygraid moved to face their opponent, and John grabbed Treb to fall in behind the woman.

“Hal, attack from the flank and rear!” John hissed.

He glanced over briefly, but the Cambion was already camouflaged. After that, he was too busy to keep track. The second worgh solidified as the first paced just beyond spear range. Then the two birds did the same. John, Treb and Sygraid backed up until the males’ backs touched the ice wall.

“They’re going to all come at once. Sygraid, take the one on your right,” John instructed, from his spot behind her left shoulder. “I have the left one. Treb, knock those birds down.”

Sygraid grunted while Treb quavered, “Yes sir.”

Sure enough, both worgh dodged to each side, snouts snapping at their legs. The birds flew at face level, beaks, talons and wings all working to blind the trio. That’s when they discovered that their weapons had no effect. Spear points and John’s ax passed right through the animals’ smoky bodies. Unfortunately, their enemies didn’t have that problem. Sygraid and John both received gashes to their face, and only Sygraid’s shield and a quick dodge by John kept them from being bitten.

“It’s not working!” Treb cried in dismay.

“Don’t give up!” John commanded.

“I’m not!” Deni denied, still swinging. “But it just goes right through them!”

“We’ll figure it out!” John encouraged, dodging another lunge from the worgh.

Unfortunately, he got another gash from the birds for his trouble. Then a gleaming silver lance shot out from the side to impale one of the worgh-things. It bored a hole straight through the worgh’s torso that was harrying John. The beast screeched in pain and tried to jump away. On a hunch, John swung his hatchet spike through the worgh again, activating its death enchantment. He managed to strike its head, and the entire thing evaporated.

“Weapons of Power and Enchantment.” Wotaanz called. “You are well equipped I see.”

The other three animals faded back to translucence and returned to the ghost’s side. He walked forward, and slid to the right. He tapped a spot at waist height.

“This is the weakest point. Whenever my daughters visit, they thin the ice here. Our plan was to use it to break out all the Valorous. Or perhaps allow an army to storm the Halls from below. If you break through here, it should not take you too much effort.” He said.

“And in return?” John asked.

“Nothing.” Wotaanz replied. “After you are through, you will understand what I have to tell you much better.”

When it was apparent that he wouldn’t say anything else, John pointed Hal and Syg at the chosen spot and they all went to work. It took about two hours to clear enough ice for them to reach an arm into the space on the other side. Another two and the hole was big enough for them to crawl through.

“Please go through and I will meet you beyond.” Wotaanz instructed.

John elected to go first, since there was no purpose to any attempts at stealth. And if there was something waiting for them, his death wasn’t permanent, though he’d never mentioned it.

The room beyond was curved, like the inside of a pumpkin. The interior was completely coated in ice, even the opening beyond led to white-covered stairs. A small fissure in the floor was the only opening. The ice stopped about an inch from the edge a the crack in the stone underneath. The blue-white light that filled the room rose in a column from that hole to illuminate the space. A giant diamond, brilliant cut in shape, hung from a ring of ice like a chandelier. The glowing light flowed into the jewel, which collected it, before shining up like a laser through a much smaller hole in the ceiling. Inside was noticeably colder than the stairs had been.

Wotaanz wavered into place standing over the crack. “Thank you for joining me.”

“What is this place?” John asked.

“This is the reason the Halls and myself exist. This is where the beast steals power from us.” Wotaanz answered, pointing up. “Her jewel uses the energy which sustains us, perverting it into a soul draining prison.”

“I hear a story.” John remarked.

“A good one.” Hal added.

Wotaanz smiled. “If you will listen, I will tell you.”

All four nodded eagerly.

“I am no bard, but will endeavor to do the events justice. I see that you are affected by the cold, so I will be as brief as I can.” Wotaanz began. “I was an explorer in my youth. I wandered all across the North, which looked a lot different before they Arrived. I was the first to discover how to train the worgh, though I will admit it was by accident. Even then, this was the highest mountain north of the Alfair forest kingdoms. No one could see the summit, because a permanent blizzard blanketed the place with snow. Avalanches were a daily occurrence. There were legends of men reaching the top, but no one I ever met claimed the feat. Many tried, and all died or failed to return. I decided I would be the first.”

“My two companions and I began our ascent and even with the slope, became lost. We wandered from one side to the other, always trying to climb higher. After a long time, an avalanche revealed a cave deep in a crevasse with the light you see here shining out. My rope was gone, but I climbed down anyway. Inside, at the very back I found an arch carved in the rock. On the stone floor of the cave, right below the arch was this crack, though it was bigger then. This was before the portal stones were made, so I had no idea what it might be. It is an opening to another place; which I discovered after stepping right on it. The world beyond is a place of wonder and horror, a place of chaos, where time flows like rivers and beings of incredible power war with each other using weapons I can barely fathom.”

“Upon my entry, I stumbled into the middle of a mighty battle. The forces unleashed nearly killed me, and I was taken with other wounded for care. By the time I was healed, I had attracted the interest of a beautiful maiden. She was a warrior of some renown, though not a great power there, named Fryja. My tales of crossing from another world excited her, and she arranged for us to return to the battlefield after the fighting stopped, to search for the way back. During our search, we came across a Seer who also sought the opening. He told us it was a tear in the fabric of my world, created when an unscrupulous shape-shifter named Loftyr found a place where the connection between two portals in my world touched their own. He was being pursued by Fryja’s Sire for stealing an Artifact. Loftyr tricked another lord into attacking Fryja’s forces in order to cover his escape. He used the Artifact to tear a hole into the portal connection and flee into our world. The connection was destroyed by his actions, leaving just the tear that I later found.”

“The Seer told us that Loftyr possessing the Artifact could bring about the destruction of this world if we did not stop him. Fryja agreed to return here with me, to pursue Loftyr. But, once Fryja crossed into this place, trying to return would kill her. In fact, the only reason I was not already dead was because Fryja’s one-handed brother, Tiwaz had healed me. If I did not return soon, that realm would begin tearing me apart. I agreed, and in order to find Loftyr, I traded the Seer an eye for True Sight with the other. He also bade Fryja bring her steed, an eight-legged war-beast which later sired all my daughter’s mounts.”

“Fryja and I searched the world for Loftyr after returning. In that time she bore me seven daughters. It was they who constructed the Halls of Valor, at my wife’s command. For twenty-five years we searched, and found him at last living with the frost giants, in a gray castle made of ice and sand. Its walls could withstand any blow, but were vulnerable from the air. My wife’s mount, and all its progeny found traversing the heavens as easy as the ground. During the battle, when the tide turned against him, and my Sight prevented him from slinking away, Loftyr used the Artifact again. We dueled him, and in retrieving the Artifact, both Fryja and I were mortally wounded. Loftyr escaped, vowing revenge upon us. Together my wife and I used the Artifact to close Loftyr’s second tear, but the effort extinguished us.”

“Our daughters returned us to this tear, and laid us out with the Artifact between. We traveled back into Fryja’s world, and received funeral rites. Fryja rests there in peace, her soul has returned to their firmament, but my task is not yet done. The Seer saw Loftyr’s threat, and used the piece of me he still possessed to send me here in this form.” Wotaanz held up his spear. “He gave me this, a minor Reflection of the Artifact that I may use only once, to tear Death’s Veil and allow the Chosen Valorous few to return for one final battle. My daughters, and granddaughters accepted his charge to find only the bravest, most cunning, or most skilled warriors for our host. I remain here as his conduit, directing his magic to give the Chosen form and substance until they are called for.”

“When the dragons Arrived, and we were defeated so quickly, I feared I had failed in my mission. But though the world was remade, I, the Valorous and the Halls persist in this new form. I believe that it was Loftyr who orchestrated the dragons’ assault, for it was an orgy of violence unlike anything I could’ve imagined. The Seer also believes Loftyr to be here, masquerading as one of the dragons. He has relayed this to me, though I do not know why he thinks it to be so.”

Wotaanz bowed his head. “I beg you. In return for my help, I will give one of you the True Sight, so that you may know Loftyr when you see him. When you find him, return to me and I shall orchestrate his doom.”

John stepped forward immediately. “Does this mean I must give you my eye, as well?”

Wotaanz nodded. “You must. And it will be passed to the Seer, so he may bestow it directly, for I do not have this power.”

“I will do it. It won’t be the first time.” John told him.

“Are you sure?” Wotaanz eyed him curiously. “This cannot be undone. If you have lost an eye before, you appear to have gained it back. And I cannot help but notice your companions’ surprise at this decision. Might you want to discuss it with them?”

But John shook his head. “I am the best choice for this.” He looked at Syg and Hal. “I can’t tell you why. Just trust me.”

Syg nodded her acceptance. Hal looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, but gestured for John to proceed.

“What must I do?” John asked.

“Come stand where I am, and close your eyes. Do not open them again until I tell you.” He instructed.

Wotaanz stepped back as John took his place. He noticed frost creep onto the ghost’s boots, and a slight wince but that was all the sign Wotaanz gave. John obediently closed his eyes and a spike of pain lanced his skull through his left eye. He grunted, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to open his other eye, or jerk his head back.

An eon later, both eyes felt a soothing warmth. John felt fingertips on his forehead, the first actual touch sensation.

“Keep it closed.” Wotaanz warned him, just in time. “I must give you the knowledge to interpret what your eye tells you. Otherwise, it will quickly drive you mad.”

“That sounds like a negative outcome.” John snarked.

“You would not enjoy it, yes.” Wotaanz agreed.

This pain was more like a migraine, but only lasted for about a minute before fading away.

“Let us see if you can understand the Sight. Open your eye.” Wotaanz directed.

John did so, surprised at how normal everything looked. Well, normal for a crippled old soldier standing in an ice-coated cave, bathed in eerie blue-white light talking to the ghost of Odin! Nothing looked that different.

“I see that you can control it. That is a good first step.” Wotaanz approved. “Now allow the Sight to show you more.”