Kull’s smile disappeared. I don’t think he expected banishment. He’d wanted to escort me earlier, but that was before his banishment. Shocked faces filled the hall. Kull stuffed his hands in his pockets and stomped to an open doorway. “Follow me, earthlander,” he called over his shoulder.
I hesitated. Should I? Surely, I didn’t need Thor the Skullsplitter to escort me to the Borderlands. I didn’t know him very well, but I knew I didn’t get along with his type—arrogant and stubborn. Either he or I would be dead by the end of this trip.
I followed Kull. He led me into a narrow hallway that stopped at a steep staircase. He didn’t talk as he led me down the steps.
When we reached a door at the bottom of the staircase, he led me inside. We entered an armory. Cudgels, battle-axes, and a few swords filled most of the shelves. Why the Wults needed to bring so many weapons with them to the elf kingdom was a mystery.
Kull grabbed an axe and tested its weight, then threw it across the room. It clattered against the floor. “Banishment! What is he thinking? I am not a child. He’s made a fool of me. He will regret this.” He paced the room, his footsteps heavy.
I stayed in the corner, watching with a wary eye. He muttered under his breath, and then stopped by a sword that hung suspended from the rest of the weaponry. The broadsword caught my eye, not because it was embellished or overly ornate. With its tarnished, thick pommel and slightly tapered blade, it looked like a true Viking weapon.
I knew Vikings were particular about their swords. Wults treated their swords no differently. Most were heirlooms, passed down from father to son, and most were given names. I wondered what this sword was called. Brain Basher?
Kull grabbed the sword off the wall. I flinched, but he only ran his fingers along the blade as if it were a cherished friend instead of merely a weapon. After a few more minutes of alone time with his broadsword, he seemed to calm. I took a careful step forward.
“It’s a lovely weapon,” I said, trying to be polite.
He growled. “It is hardly lovely. This is Bloodbane—a weapon forged by my great-grandfather in the volcanic mountains of the outer islands. I trust this sword with my life.”
“Then I will not get in its way.”
Bloodbane, huh? I hadn’t been too far off the mark with Brain Basher.
“We travel to the Borderlands first,” he said. “I’ll give you two days to complete your quest. Then, you will escort me to Earth Kingdom, where you will help me retrieve the dinosaur’s skeleton.”
“You realize that once you cross back to Faythander, you won’t remember going to Earth Kingdom?”
“I understand. It is enough for me to have the skeleton in my possession.” He grabbed a scabbard off a shelf and buckled it around his waist, muttering something under his breath as he placed the sword in the scabbard and then grabbed a dagger. His knuckles grew white on the blade’s hilt. “Isn’t it enough that I agreed to marry the princess? His punishments are unjust, even by Wult standards.”
“At least he didn’t order your execution,” I offered.
He pointed the dagger at me. “I did not ask for your opinion. If we are to travel together, then you will stay out of my affairs, understood?”
I crossed my arms. I may have been half his height with a harmless appearance, but I was not a pushover. “If we are to travel together, then I suggest you think before you speak. It’s your mouth that gets you into trouble.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “One could offer the same advice to you.”
I shrugged. He was right. No point in arguing.
He grabbed a knapsack off a hook and stuffed a few knives inside. “Do you have any weapons?”
“Does my magic count?”
“No.” He tossed a knife to me and scowled as he watched my clumsy attempt at a catch. “You’ll have to practice with it.”
A woman entered the room, and I recognized her long braid from earlier. She wore armor over her leather breeches and shirt that hugged her shapely frame. Her muscles bulged beneath silver arm guards. Her beauty was apparent, though she seemed aloof. Looking at her now, her steel-gray eyes, her arms crossed over her chest, she seemed more dangerous than I’d first judged her.
She stood taller than me. On closer inspection, I realized shiny, pink scars covered her hands and arms. It looked as if she’d been burned and hadn’t healed properly.
“He isn’t going anywhere without me,” she said.
“Father would never allow you to travel with me, Heidel. You’ll stay here.”
“He’s already granted me permission.”
Kull cursed. “You’ll kill us both.”
“On the contrary. I mean to keep you out of danger. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve saved your skin.”
“By the gods, you’ll stay here, Heidel. I demand—”
She pulled a knife from her belt and casually pointed it at him. “You are in no position to make demands.”
Their gazes locked.
Heidel’s knife caught my attention—a black blade with a mirrored surface, curving from an embellished hilt. Wults never embellished their weapons. They thought it ostentatious. And they would never use black blades, either—it wouldn’t show off the blood as well as a silver one. Why would she choose a weapon like that?
“You mean to challenge me over this, sister?” he asked.
“If I must.”
“You will fail.”
“Perhaps. But the fact remains that you need me.”
“Why would I need you?”
“The battle with the Maywelter tribe. You stole from the chieftain’s personal vault. He would have beheaded you had I not intervened.”
“I had already escaped by the time you arrived.”
“Or the time when I found you with the pixie
