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After what felt like an eternity, the wolf disappeared. Jace stepped forward into the edge of a clearing. He tried to call out, but he couldn’t hear his own voice.
No need to use words here. Thoughts are far more valuable on this plane.
The voice sounded as if it were coming from inside Jace’s head. He spun around. A man stood engulfed in the shadows. He stepped out from the trees and stared Jace in the eyes.
Jace moved his lips, but the words refused to come.What are you?
A smile curved the shadow man’s lips.A Berserker—a warrior—as are you.
The words sounded oddly familiar, but Jace couldn’t place where he’d heard them.A Berserker?
The shadow man stepped forward, and Jace stepped back.You have no reason to fear me, though your instincts are right. Iammore powerful than you.
Jace dropped into a fighting stance.What do you want with me?
The shadow man continued to move forward.My job is to direct you to the right path. I am your guide from the gods.
If this had been real life, Jace’s jaw would have dropped. Instead, he just stared at the shadow in front of him.A guide from the gods? You’ve gotta be fucking with me. What sort of drugs did I take?
The shadow man frowned, the first human expression Jace had seen him make.I assure you that I am not “fucking” with you.
Jace straightened to his full height again.Then who and what are you?
The Norse called me Heimdallr, guardian of Bifröst—the gateway to what you call heaven—and I’m exactly what you are.
What the hell was going on? Jace closed his eyes, hoping he would wake up. When he reopened them, he found himself still stuck in the blue haze.I’m not following your thoughts here. What is this place?
The man beckoned him closer.Come. Follow me.The shadow man turned and disappeared into the trees. The same pull Jace had felt with the wolf tugged at his chest again, and he walked forward involuntarily.
The shadow man moved through the forest with ease, as if he knew every tree, every branch.I’m your guide, Jace—the spirit of the wolf.
Jace regained control of himself and stopped walking.Wait, so youarethe wolf?
The shadow man turned around and met Jace’s gaze. The wolf’s eyes stared back at him.Yes. The wolf and I are one.Then the man turned into the forest again and wandered deeper into its depths.
Jace never took his eyes off the shadow figure in front of him.Why am I here? What is this place?
We are past Midgard, or what you know as Earth. We are near Bifröst, the bridge between your world and the realm of the gods, the holy Asgard, where I make my home.
Jace wanted to curse, but still no words would come out of his mouth.So I’m dead?
The shadow man ran his hand down a nearby tree, almost caressing the redwood bark.No, you still reside among the living, though few are capable of entering our world. You are an elite warrior, crafted by the gods.
Goose bumps prickled over Jace’s skin, but he ignored them.If you think I’m crafted by gods, you obviously never met my father.
The man stepped over the shadow of a fallen tree and continued.Your father chose a dark path and used his gift for his own greed. He was not worthy.
The questions flooding into Jace’s mind were overwhelming. His thoughts raced. The trees and brush of the forest thinned as they continued forward. Another clearing lay ahead.
When they stepped through the curtain of the trees, Jace’s eyes widened. Before him, stood seven stone statues, each one three times his height. Each depicted a Viking-like warrior dressed in animal skins. The warrior in the center stood tallest—a spear in his hand, and the pelt of a wolf covering his body and head.
The Berserkers,the shadow man said.The originals from which you descend.
Jace couldn’t tear his eyes from the stones. These statues were ancient.What is a Berserker?
The shadow man moved closer to the stone replicas.We are shapeshifters, crafted as tools for the gods.
We?Jace pointed to himself.No, you’re wrong. I’m no berserker. I’m a hunter.
