darkness.
Thak went first, using his huge sword to push back the swinging doors, and dusty fog billowed out
Inside, shadows reigned. Ittisana scowled and stepped forward, and I knew she was braiding spells. She lifted her arms and from them and many bright lights escaped. “Best leave the snake—”
“Dragon—” I murmured.
“The thing in the artifact,” she said patiently. “Best not ignite anything, right?”
“Right,” I said sullenly as I watched dozens of bright balls of light scatter all over the bottom floor, lighting it very well indeed. “I have no wish to call for it anyway,” I said and then went quiet. In the midst of the central chamber there was a huge, circular stairway that went up for six levels. On each level, there were colorless windows the size of an elf; hundreds of them, and beams of light shattered the shadows and the darkness.
Between the windows, there were jotun height bookshelves of thick, red wood.
“Quite something,” I breathed.
There were millions of books and scrolls in Haven. All glittered with gold and silver, and I could only gawk in silence. They stood in silent vigil like dutiful soldiers waiting to be relieved. The books were worth an empire, and probably a dozen kingdoms to boot. And quite a few of the books glowed gently, being magical. I walked across the black tiled floor, and went to stand near the staircase, where I leaned on a silver statue. The railing was decorated with gold and gems, there were building-high pillars supporting the stairway, all made of some pink-hued stone. There were more statues hidden between the bookcases, some were standing on the stairs, pondering problems, images of long - lost scholars and mages and lords. Perhaps one was of Coodarg? I thought. They were beautiful and delicate, the sort of feats of unimaginable skill that left the onlooker waiting breathlessly for them to move.
Thak was looking around, his sword out, and he smelled the air carefully. “Where do we go?”
Ittisana squinted up. “Kiera said the works on Svartalfheim are on the third level. I’ll show you. She walked up the stairs and I went after her, wondering at each new sight. We reached the third floor, and Thak stood by the stairway, looking around the shadows carefully.
Near the stairs, there were coaches of green and gray velvet, and Ittisana nodded at me. “You just take a seat. Relax. I’ll find what we need.” She rushed to find the works on her homeland, her sword slapping on her thigh and I pulled a couch next to the window. There, I plopped down on it. I squinted in the light of Mar that shone through the window, and got up to push at it. After a moment’s struggle, I discovered they opened inwards and now clear, fresh air moved into the room.
The sight was breathtaking, opening up towards the north. The land, the Holy Continent that was called Freyr’s Tooth rose steadily from Himingborg. There, Bardagoons guarded what was Freyr’s Seat, the lost god’s hall where Lex and Shannon had died, and where Dana had betrayed them. There, also, before the passes that led to that wondrous land, red forts guarded the roads. Before the forts, a vast camp of silken tents spread across hillsides. They looked like people on a peaceful outing, like a nation out camping, but there too glittered thousands and thousands of spears, and I knew the might of Safiroon and Bardagoon houses, and their dependents were preparing. There, Anja was, her skill in opening anything with her touch a potent weapon for Almheir, who would attack the city with fury. There too, Hannea Coinar, the sister of Ompar Coinar and Shannon’s love, helped Almheir by pretending to be the Hand of Life, disguised in the lost armor of the office. Fifty thousand? At least that many. And another fifty to come soon, no doubt.
There was no way to win, I decided. None. Why did Shannon try? What could she do anyway? Why not flee?
I sat there and enjoyed the silence, despite the ominous sight of
Thak went first, using his huge sword to push back the swinging doors, and dusty fog billowed out
Inside, shadows reigned. Ittisana scowled and stepped forward, and I knew she was braiding spells. She lifted her arms and from them and many bright lights escaped. “Best leave the snake—”
“Dragon—” I murmured.
“The thing in the artifact,” she said patiently. “Best not ignite anything, right?”
“Right,” I said sullenly as I watched dozens of bright balls of light scatter all over the bottom floor, lighting it very well indeed. “I have no wish to call for it anyway,” I said and then went quiet. In the midst of the central chamber there was a huge, circular stairway that went up for six levels. On each level, there were colorless windows the size of an elf; hundreds of them, and beams of light shattered the shadows and the darkness.
Between the windows, there were jotun height bookshelves of thick, red wood.
“Quite something,” I breathed.
There were millions of books and scrolls in Haven. All glittered with gold and silver, and I could only gawk in silence. They stood in silent vigil like dutiful soldiers waiting to be relieved. The books were worth an empire, and probably a dozen kingdoms to boot. And quite a few of the books glowed gently, being magical. I walked across the black tiled floor, and went to stand near the staircase, where I leaned on a silver statue. The railing was decorated with gold and gems, there were building-high pillars supporting the stairway, all made of some pink-hued stone. There were more statues hidden between the bookcases, some were standing on the stairs, pondering problems, images of long - lost scholars and mages and lords. Perhaps one was of Coodarg? I thought. They were beautiful and delicate, the sort of feats of unimaginable skill that left the onlooker waiting breathlessly for them to move.
Thak was looking around, his sword out, and he smelled the air carefully. “Where do we go?”
Ittisana squinted up. “Kiera said the works on Svartalfheim are on the third level. I’ll show you. She walked up the stairs and I went after her, wondering at each new sight. We reached the third floor, and Thak stood by the stairway, looking around the shadows carefully.
Near the stairs, there were coaches of green and gray velvet, and Ittisana nodded at me. “You just take a seat. Relax. I’ll find what we need.” She rushed to find the works on her homeland, her sword slapping on her thigh and I pulled a couch next to the window. There, I plopped down on it. I squinted in the light of Mar that shone through the window, and got up to push at it. After a moment’s struggle, I discovered they opened inwards and now clear, fresh air moved into the room.
The sight was breathtaking, opening up towards the north. The land, the Holy Continent that was called Freyr’s Tooth rose steadily from Himingborg. There, Bardagoons guarded what was Freyr’s Seat, the lost god’s hall where Lex and Shannon had died, and where Dana had betrayed them. There, also, before the passes that led to that wondrous land, red forts guarded the roads. Before the forts, a vast camp of silken tents spread across hillsides. They looked like people on a peaceful outing, like a nation out camping, but there too glittered thousands and thousands of spears, and I knew the might of Safiroon and Bardagoon houses, and their dependents were preparing. There, Anja was, her skill in opening anything with her touch a potent weapon for Almheir, who would attack the city with fury. There too, Hannea Coinar, the sister of Ompar Coinar and Shannon’s love, helped Almheir by pretending to be the Hand of Life, disguised in the lost armor of the office. Fifty thousand? At least that many. And another fifty to come soon, no doubt.
There was no way to win, I decided. None. Why did Shannon try? What could she do anyway? Why not flee?
I sat there and enjoyed the silence, despite the ominous sight of
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