Elden would certainly not come to rescue him. It was crazy to put his life on the line for someone who cared nothing for him-and, in fact, would gladly see him die. But he could not help it. He’d never felt a sensation like this one before, where his senses were screaming to him to react-especially over something he could not possibly have known. He was changing somehow, and he did not know how. He felt as if his body were being controlled by some new, mysterious power, and it made him feel uneasy, out of control. Was he losing his mind? Was he overreacting? Was it all just from his dream? Should he turn around?
But he did not. He let his feet lead him, and did not give in to fear or doubts. He ran and ran, until his lungs were bursting.
Thor turned a bend, and what he saw made him stop short in his tracks. He stood there, trying to catch his breath, trying to reconcile the image before him, which did not make any sense. It was enough to strike terror into any hardened warrior.
There stood Elden, holding his short sword and looking up at a creature unlike any Thor had ever seen. It was horrific. It towered over them both, at least nine feet tall, and as wide as four men. It leaned back and raised its muscular, red arms, with three long fingers, like nails, at the end of each hand, and a head like that of a demon, with four horns, a long jaw, and a broad forehead. It had two large yellow eyes and fangs curled like tusks. It leaned back and screeched.
Beside him, a thick tree, hundreds of years old, split in two at the sound.
Elden stood there, frozen in fear. He dropped his sword, and the ground beneath him went wet; Thor realized Elden must have peed his pants.
The creature drooled and snarled, and took a step towards Elden.
Thor, too, was filled with fear, but unlike Elden, it did not immobilize him. For some reason, the fear heightened him. It heightened his senses, made him feel more alive. It gave him tunnel vision, allowed him to focus supremely on the creature before him, on its position to Elden, on its width and breadth and strength and speed. On its every movement. It also allowed him to focus on his own body position, his own weapons.
Thor fearlessly burst into action. He charged forward, past Elden, and came between him and the beast. The beast roared, its breath so hot, Thor could feel it even from here. The sound raised every hair on Thor’s spine, and made him want to turn around. But he heard Erec’s voice in his head, telling him to be strong. To be fearless. To retain equanimity. And he forced himself to stand his ground.
Thor raised his sword high and charged, plunging it into the beast’s ribs, aiming for his heart.
The beast shrieked in agony, its blood pouring down Thor’s hand as Thor plunged the sword all the way in, to the hilt.
But to Thor’s surprise, it did not die. The beast seemed invincible.
Without missing a beat, the beast swung around and swiped Thor so hard that he felt his ribs cracking. Thor went flying, through the air, all the way across the clearing, and smashed into a tree before collapsing to the ground. He felt a terrible headache as he lay there.
Thor looked up, dazed and confused, the world spinning. The beast reach down and extracted Thor’s sword from its stomach. The sword seemed tiny in its hands, like a toothpick, and the beast reached back and hurled it; it went flying through the trees, taking down branches, and disappeared into the wood.
It turned its full attention on Thor, and began to bear down on him.
Elden stood there, still frozen in fear. But as the beast charged Thor, suddenly, Elden burst into action. He charged the beast from behind, and jumped onto its back. It slowed the beast just enough for Thor to sit up; the beast, furious, flung back his arms and threw Elden. He went flying across the clearing, smashed into a tree, and slumped to the ground.
The beast, still bleeding, panting heavily, turned its attention back to Thor. It snarled and widened its fangs, as it bore down on him.
Thor was out of options. His sword was gone, and there was nothing between him and the monster. The monster dove down for him, and at the last second, Thor rolled out of the way. The monster hit the tree were Thor had been with such force that it uprooted it from the ground.
The beast raised its foot, and brought it down for Thor’s head. Thor rolled out of the way and it left a footprint were Thor’s head had been.
Thor rolled to his feet, placed a stone in his sling and hurled.
He hit the monster square between the eyes, a fiercer throw than he had ever made, and the creature staggered back. Thor was certain he had killed it.
But to his amazement, the beast did not stop.
Thor tried his best to summon his power, whatever power it was that he had. He charged the beast, leaping forward, crashing into it, aiming to tackle it and drive it down to the ground with a superhuman power.
But to Thor’s shock, this time his power never kicked in. He was just another boy. A frail boy, next to this massive beast.
The beast merely reached down, grabbed Thor by his waist and hoisted him high above its head. Thor felt so helpless, dangling high in the air-and then he was thrown. He went flying like a missile across the clearing, and smashed again into a tree.
Thor lay there, stunned, his head splitting, his ribs feeling cracked in two. The beast raced for him, and he knew that this time he was finished. It raised its red, muscular foot, bringing it down right for Thor’s head. Thor looked up, and prepared to die.
Then, for some reason, the beast froze in midair. Thor blinked, trying to understand why.
The beast reached up and clutched its throat, and Thor saw an arrow, piercing through it. A moment later, the beast keeled over, dead.
Erec came running into view, followed by Reece and O’Connor. Thor saw Erec looking down on him, asking if he was okay, and he wanted to answer, more than anything. But the words would not come out. A moment later, his eyes closed on him, and then his world was blackness.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Thor opened his eyes slowly, dizzy at first, trying to figure out where he was. He was laying on straw, and for a moment wondered if he was back in the barracks. He propped himself up on one elbow, on alert, looking for the others.
He realized he was somewhere else. From the looks of it, he was in a very elaborate stone room. It looked as if he were in a castle. A royal castle.
Before he could figure it all out, a large, oak door swung open and in strutted Reece. In the distance, Thor could hear the muted noise of a crowd.
“Finally, he lives,” Reece announced with a smile, as he rushed forward and grabbed Thor’s hand and yanked him to his feet.
Thor raised a hand to his head, trying to slow his terrible headache from rising too fast.
“Come on, let’s go, everyone’s waiting for you,” he urged, yanking Thor.
“Wait a minute, please,” Thor said, trying to collect himself. “Where am I? What happened?”
“We’re back in King’s Court-and you are about to be celebrated as the hero of the day!” Reece said merrily, as they headed for the door.
“Hero? What do you mean? And…how did I get here?” he asked, trying to remember.
“That beast knocked you out. You’ve been out for quite a while. We had to carry you back across the Canyon bridge. Quite dramatic. Not exactly how I expected you to return to the other side!” he said with a laugh.
They walked out into the corridors of the castle, and as they went, Thor could see all sorts of people-women, men, squires, guards, knights-staring at him, as if they had been waiting for him to wake. He also saw something new in their eyes, something like respect. It was the first time he had seen it. Up until now, he had seen something else in people’s eyes: something like disdain. Now they looked at him as if he were one of them.
“What exactly happened?” Though racked his brain, trying to remember.
“Don’t you remember any of it?” Reece asked.
Thor tried to think.
