“So, that’s Jorun’s idea?”

 

I nodded to Thruor. “Got better?”

 

“No. But we need a mountain.”

 

A mountain. “We need a mountain with a dead tree close to the peak.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because…I don’t know. In my vision the dead tree was on the plains, but I know now…I have this image. That everything will be settled there.”

 

“Dangerous,” Thruor said. “But…”

 

“I’m not arguing with myself on it. You said we need a mountain.”

 

“One of those local kids can find us one.” She drifted off to find one. We had moved away from the army. Which was now in a state of siege. Both sides had full supply lines. Neither side seemed to want to be the first to attack. It was as if they both feared one sword stroke would be the true start of the end.

 

I tried not to think about what was happening on Earth. What was happening to Zaid and Sebastian and Clara and Father Will.

 

To my coworkers.

 

To the innocent people.
Heck, I was even worried about Sarael, and if anyone could look after himself it was him. The angel had plenty of fighting ability and plenty of courage and plenty of experience.

 

No, I did not need to worry about Sarael, but I did anyway.

 

One mortal soul. Enough to open the gates to Hell. I assumed it meant a living mortal. Mike, after all, did not seem to count.

 

Maybe she would only truly become mine in that sense when…

 

I remembered my conversation with Hel. Realized I would like to talk to my sister again about things. But there was no time for side trips. No time for anything but to do this and get it done. Although I felt there were things I still had to do before the end.

 

I wished my instincts would tell me what they were.

 

Mike, sitting down next to me. “I have to admit I have no clue how we got here.”

 

I laughed. “Your fault for getting yourself killed, or…”

 

“…I’d be on Earth. Probably fighting demons. Probably getting myself killed.”
As if it had been inevitable. “I blamed myself to start with.”

 

“I’m the one who chose to be involved in this. And I still choose to be involved.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because of you. And more than that because of Kanesha.”

 

“It’s my fault she’s involved.”

 

“That one you can take responsibility for. To a point.”

 

“I don’t think any of us choose who we fall in love with,” I mused. “Even and perhaps especially the gods.”

 

“Cupid with arrows, eh?”

 

“I don’t know about that. Cupid doesn’t have authority over me. No, it’s Freya’s fault entirely.”

 

He grinned. “Freya is scary.”

 

“She is definitely that.” Because she was love and death and the power of visions.

 

But then, no god is anything but scary, in the heart of things.