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I picked a slightly dry finger sandwich out of the huge tray that Scrimshaw was still working his way through, what I was now realizing held leftovers from afternoon tea. I bit into it. Hmm. Not terrible, as far as tuna and cucumber sandwiches went. Maybe it was taking some time to fine-tune, but Odin might have something going with this whole bed and breakfast thing after all.

“Don’t fill up on those,” Herald said. “Olga and the others are preparing dinner.”

“The others?”

Gil leaned it, jerking his thumb towards the kitchen. “Turns out there’s a whole team of valkyries in there. I chatted with a couple while you guys were sleeping. Typically these ladies are all about battle and retrieving the souls of the heroic dead, but when Odin mentioned the possibility of opening a business to pass the time, a lot of them volunteered to work here. Olga wasn’t kidding. Apparently immortality really is that damn boring.”

I leaned back against my chair, almost angrily chewing at what turned out to be a pretty decent margarine and sardine sandwich. “See, this just proves my point. The entities just don’t give a damn about the Eldest.”

Herald shrugged. “Then maybe it really is up to us humans to defend our home. Our plane of existence. It’s the only one we’ve got.”

I blinked at him, chewing thoughtfully. “You know, that’s what Nyx said. But it’s not just our home, and that bothers me. We’re all affected by this. If the Eldest raze the planet, what’s left of the playground for gods and demons to frolic in? It’s like they know, but just don’t care. It’s selfish.”

“Maybe they’ll be more willing to listen if we win this fight tonight, Dust. We’ll do our best to dominate, and maybe then the Convocation will give you the time of day.” Herald took a slow sip of his tea – cream and two sugars, I noticed – then settled his dainty little cup back down on its saucer. “They might not pay much attention to the words of just another human mage. But someone who wears the Crown of Stars? Someone they selected as their chosen, their champion? Maybe then.”

“Maybe,” I said.

A champion. That’s what I needed to become. A hero. That’s who I needed to be. And then, maybe then, even the gods themselves would listen.

Chapter 25

We stood on the peak of the hill, just me, the Boneyard, and that one dude who makes lots of ice. I was ready to fight, ready to kill. My belly was full of fire. Also dinner. We had sausages, and some schnitzel. It was delicious.

On my back was my enchanted leather knapsack. Vanitas wriggled impatiently inside it. He’d been dormant long enough, and he’d come to life just as soon as we’d climbed our way back to the cairn. The gods had loosened something in their nullification field, creating a gap centered around the hill.

The four of us stood with our backs to the cairn, watching for signs of the entities. Nothing, for some minutes, but as the clouds parted and revealed the fullness of the moon, I started to see a change come upon the plateau.

“It’s happening,” Herald muttered.

The circle of dead trees around us rushed away, moving further and further from the center. The plateau was widening, somehow, growing, as if to create room for battle. And the trees themselves creaked and crackled as they stretched ever upward, reaching dead branches like fingers to the darkened sky.

“Children of man,” a voice said behind us. “Welcome to your trial.”

As one we whirled and backed away from the cairn. Nyx hovered above it, the deep midnight of her skin and the twinkling of the stars within her body almost camouflaging her against the night sky. Light poured from her mouth as she smiled.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said. “This is not an ambush. If you will take your positions,” she added, gesturing to one end of the newly-formed arena, “then your opponents may prepare themselves as well.”

We did as we were told, standing to one side of the cairn, which remained where it was even as the plateau expanded, marking the arena’s center. I looked across from our team, squinting, but not catching sight of the entities we were meant to fight. I did see shapes moving in the darkness, just among the dead trees. I recognized some of them, too. It was the members of the Midnight Convocation, gathered at intervals around the arena. They’d come to watch.

The beating of wings heralded the arrival of other, more diminutive guests. A pair of ravens lighted on the branches, their eyes gleaming. Were these Odin’s companions? Muninn and Huginn, the ravens that spied for him and brought him knowledge. Had they come to witness as well?

The four of us stood in a rank, Sterling to one side of me, Herald to the other. Gil was off to the edge, making it easier for him to launch into the fray uninhibited once the transformation took him. I clenched and unclenched my fingers, watching the field for any sign of movement, readying myself to wield either flame or shadow as the situation called for it.

I heard Herald muttering under his breath, thin streamers of violet light emanating from his fingers as he bathed our bodies in protective cocoons. It was good to have him around, almost like having a copy of Carver to fight with us, one that wasn’t quite as cruel, yet somehow had more significant anger issues.

“They’re here,” Sterling hissed, pointing somewhere among the clouds.

My back stiffened as I saw them, three beams of light piercing the night sky, each a different color, all moving at the same speed. One was made of fire, the second of lightning. The third shaft looked very much like moonlight.

As the tunnels of light struck the arena, vaguely human silhouettes formed within them: two men, and one woman. The beams cleared, leaving only the figures. Each of the four of us gasped, but only Herald spoke.

“This is not good,” he muttered. “Dustin. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was going to be them,” I muttered back. “Who the hell is the third one supposed to be, anyway?”

The three figures stepped forward, each wearing a similarly smug expression. I knew there was something familiar about the man with the glowing sword. He was going to fight alongside his siblings, he said. I hadn’t expected his siblings to be gods that I’d already faced in mortal combat.

Gods of the Japanese pantheon, to be specific. Out of the pillar of fire walked Amaterasu, goddess of the sun. From the bolt of lightning came Susanoo, god of storm and sea. And the last god, his smile hugest and most radiant of all, strode from out of the brilliance of a shaft of moonlight.

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