“The Blood God,” Elyse murmured. “It has to be.”
“Yes. Servants of the Blood God. Powerful servants of the Blood God.”
“And I bet I know exactly who the fuck that might be,” I said. “We’ve been scouring Prand for the whereabouts of my uncle, but nothing has turned up so far. Now I bet I know exactly where to find that asswipe. What I don’t understand is why the hell he’d be looking for other gods. He already serves the Blood God, and that evil motherfucker needs virgin blood, doesn’t he?”
“While the Blood God does enjoy the blood of young virgin girls, he lusts after blood that is much more potent,” Friya said. “You must understand that in the same manner that you gain power from every soul you take, he gains power from every creature he drains of blood. But, as you know, if you stab a rat with your enchanted dagger, it will not give you the same amount of power as stabbing a powerful warrior, yes?”
“Well, I haven’t tried to stab a rat, but I see your point.”
“So, imagine the kind of power the Blood God could obtain from drinking the blood of a living god.”
“Oh, shit,” I muttered as I thought of the ramifications. Who could he go after? Me, but that would of course be impossible, but what if he got his hands on…
Suddenly, the doors of the Great Hall flew open, and a great howling gale rushed through the longhouse, extinguishing all the flames and even bowling some guests off their chairs. I jumped up onto the table brandishing Grave Oath, ready to take on whoever—or whatever—came through the door.
When I saw who it was, though, I forgot about my weapon and felt a broad smile spread across my face. The sexy contours of Rami-Xayon’s slim, toned form were revealed in tantalizing detail by the figure-hugging black enjarta suit she wore, and in her dark phoenix eyes, the light of an appealing defiance sparkled.
“There’s one living goddess in the North whose blood the Blood God won’t be tasting,” she said grimly.
Chapter Thirteen
“Rami, it’s great to see you again!” Elyse’s face glowed with delight.
Any rivalry that had formerly existed between these two had long since been buried, and I thought Elyse was particularly happy to see one of the founding members of the party return. With the new additions, she would be feeling more and more like an outsider.
Rami-Xayon gave us all a polite nod as she entered the Great Hall, brushing snow off her shoulders. “It is good to see all of you again.” She fixed me with an intense stare filled with smoldering desire. “I have especially missed you, Vance,” she purred, before adopting a more serious tone. “I have traveled long and far, and I have found that most of my temples across Prand stand empty and decrepit, fallen into ruin and disrepair. Most of those who once worshiped me have died, and their descendants have forgotten the old ways, or have had the old traditions forcibly erased by the Church of Light. If I and the others had not been so heinously betrayed,” she hissed, shooting a sudden, withering glare at a cringing Isu, “perhaps things would have been different, and the Blood God would not have had the opportunity to rise again. But we cannot waste time lamenting the past. We must work to ensure that we prevent the worst fate from befalling Prand.”
“Agreed,” I said. “So, let’s get back to this ‘sacrificing a god’ business. Just how bad would it be if my uncle succeeded?”
“It would be catastrophic,” Isu said grimly. “The Demogorgon would most certainly be able to materialize on this plane, and you’ve witnessed, in the glimpses into the past you saw at Kroth, just how unstoppable a demon of the ancient world is when it materializes on this plane.”
Isu suddenly seemed eager to provide me with information, perhaps wanting to deflect as much attention as she could from the reminder Rami-Xayon gave everyone of her past.
I shot a quick glance at Friya, wondering whether I should mention this weapon she was going to give me to defeat the Blood God and his Demogorgon. She subtly shook her head. I trusted her judgment but wondered why she would want me to keep it a secret.
“However,” Isu continued, “we do have a reason for optimism, albeit a small one.”
“And what might that be?” I asked.
“Such a sacrifice—that of a living god—cannot simply be done anywhere. It must be done in a temple of the Blood God’s, most of which were destroyed long ago.”
“Still, my uncle must know of at least one that still exists somewhere in Prand. He’s nothing if not thorough.”
“In the land I was talking about earlier,” Friya said, “for which the Wastes serve as a buffer, there is a cursed city. Beyond that city lies a vast and desolate mountain range. There, in the peaks of the mountains, rested an intact Temple of Blood. This was reported as recently as a few years ago by one of our warriors who journeyed there on a quest.”
“What’s this cursed city you’re talking about?” I asked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Isu squirming on her chair. What dirty pies didn't the former goddess have her fingers in? Again, she seemed to radiate a fear that her dark secrets might be revealed.
“The city is called Aith,” Friya answered.
“I’ve heard of it,” I said. “When I was a boy, my father told me stories about it. It used to be a city of high art and culture and learning, but it was cursed by one of the old gods and overrun with a plague of giant man-eating spiders.”
“Close,” Friya said, “but that’s not the whole truth. It was taken over by spiders, in a sense. And it was cursed by a god. But the people living there were
