A Reign of Steel

CHAPTER NINE

Thor walked through the Land of the Druids, in awe at his surroundings, at once so exotic and yet so eerily familiar. As he traversed a field of flowers, he reached out and touched them in wonder, trying to understand where he had seen them before, where he had seen this entire vista before. The more he examined it, the more he began to remember: it was a field of flowers he had been to before. The field outside King’s Court. The place where he had his first date with Gwendolyn. It had been a magical place for him, a place burned into his memory, where he had first fallen in love. A place he could never forget.

But what could it possibly be doing here, halfway across the world, in the Land of the Druids? Had he crossed the world only to return home? It made no sense.

As Thor walked, deeper into the field, he struggled to understand what was happening. He felt his entire body tingling, and he sensed from the feeling that he was indeed in a different land, a different place. A different energy hung in the air, a different weight and scent to the breeze. For the first time in his life, Thor felt as if the energy aligned with his own perfectly. As if he were home, among his people. People who were like him. People who understood him. He felt more alive, stronger here, than anywhere else in the world.

Yet the same time, his surroundings also felt different, foreign to him. He sensed a foreboding, a danger, and he did not know what.

Thor searched the horizon, hoping to see something familiar—the towering castle of his dreams, his mother’s palace, the skywalk leading to it—or at the very least, some path leading to it.

But he saw none of that. Instead, as he traversed the field of flowers, following a meandering dirt path, the landscape suddenly gave way to a small village, the dirt path cutting through it, filled with white stone cottages.

Thor held his breath, shocked, as the hairs rose on his arms: it was his town. His home village.

How as it possible? he wondered. Had he traveled half the world only to end up back home?

Thor continued to walk, warily, through the empty streets, until up ahead, he saw a figure in the distance. The figure was hunched over on the side of the dirt path, and as Thor approached he was surprised to see it was an old woman, hunched over a cauldron above a fire. She seemed familiar too.

She looked up at him and grimaced.

“Careful where you step!” she scolded.

Thor recognized that voice, and suddenly he remembered: it was the old woman from his village, the one always hunched over her stew, always yelling at him as he ran by, disturbing her chickens. Was he seeing things?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“The question is: what are you doing here?”

Thor blinked, confused.

“I’ve come to find my mother.”

“Have you? And how do you plan to do that?”

Thor looked down at his relic and saw that the arrow was no longer pointing in any direction. It had shattered. He had arrived, and yet now that he was here, he was on his own. He had no idea how to find her now.

Thor stared back at the woman.

“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “How big is the Land of the Druids?”

The old woman threw her head back and cackled, an awful, grating sound that sent shivers up his spine.

Finally, she said: “I can tell you where she is.”

Thor looked at her in surprise.

“You can? But how would you know?”

She stirred her cauldron.

“For a price,” she said, “I will tell you anything.”

“What price?” Thor asked.

“Your bracelet.”

Thor looked down at his bracelet, the golden one that Alistair had given him, shining in the light. He hesitated. He sensed it had tremendous power, and he felt it was the only thing protecting him here in this land. He had a premonition that, if he gave it to her, he would lose all of his strength.

Then again, Thor needed to know where his mother was.

“It is a gift,” he said. “I am sorry. I cannot.”

The woman shrugged.

“Then I cannot help you.”

Thor looked at her in wonder, frustrated.

“Please,” he said. “I need your help.”

She stirred her cauldron for a long time, then finally she sighed.

“Look into my cauldron. What do you see?”

Thor looked at her, confused, then finally glanced down at her cauldron.

He blinked several times, caught off guard, and leaned in closer, trying to get a good look.

In the still waters, slowly, a reflection emerged. At first it looked like his face; but then, slowly, he realized it was not his face. It was the face of Andronicus.

Thor looked at the woman, who stared back, evil.

“Who are you?” he asked.

She smiled wide at him.

“I am everyone,” she said. “And no one.”

She jumped up from her cauldron, reached up and snatched the bracelet off his wrist. As Thor reached out to grab it back, she suddenly transformed before his eyes, morphing into a long, thick white snake. Thor watched with horror and realized it was a deadly Whiteback, the same snake he’d spotted on his first date with Gwendolyn. The sign of death.

The snake grew longer and longer, and before Thor could react, its tail wrapped around his ankles, then around his shins, knees, thighs, waist, and chest. It constricted his arms, and he stood there, barely able to breathe as it crushed him.

The snake then leaned back all the way and opened its fangs wide, and Thor turned his face, feeling its hot breath on his neck and knowing that, in moments, it would sink its fangs into his throat.