drunk every night and forget the reasons why I gave up on the sex thing until Iâm too far gone to care. Jemâll have little silver spectacles on the end of her nose and sit in the kitchen, snapping at everyone like Daisy does. Hopefully she wonât have a limp.
The cloak pin caught under his ear. The weight of the material dragged under his chin. He looked down, seeing how it swung between the branches and laughed grimly, struck by how it would look to Alan if he found him hanging in the tree.
âHi, Al, Iâm just trying out how it would have been for the God if heâd sacrificed himself upside down on World Tree, except I donât need Loki to turn himself into a mare and produce Sleipnir for me to ride. Iâve got my own Galdramerr, thanks.â
How did that amazing stallion manage to come out of an oddball like Loki? he wondered. Okay, he was a shape-changer and probably gay, but even the God didnât manage anything like that and heâs supposed to be the best there is.
He opened his arms wide, willing himself not to choke against the weight pressing on his throat. I bet I could stay like this for nine days and nights if I put my mind to it. I could stick myself on the spear, poke out one of my eyes and pick up the last two runes before the spooks had to bother putting themselves out to come back for me.
He swung backwards and forwards so that he could look around the clearing. Near the centre the stones edging Brynâs burial mound shone bright against the sheen of the grass in the moonlight. On the west side, the torch-holders pointed spiked shadows over the bare earth in the fighting circle. Beyond that, and just clear of the overhanging branches of the trees, the grass was smudged on either side of the shallow trench where he continued training the mares to jump through fire.
Kyri led them now. He could see the faint, otherworldly light shimmering around her as she grazed the winding pathways in the labyrinth. Rúna and Nanna had proved surprisingly willing to follow her over the flames, even when the straw burned at its fiercest. Freyja had taken a lot more persuading.
Maybe Iâll try another rune cast, he thought. Not tonight though, the moonâs not right. He studied the waning, misshapen orb shining through the clouds directly above him. Itâll be full around the end of the month just before Halloweâen. Iâll do a day without coffee and get myself up here for a full moon âfasting-castingâ right on the exact second of sunset.
âThat ought to get things going,â he said aloud. âYour old God likes a bit of pain, doesnât he, old tree?â
The hissing of powerful wings beating against the wind currents brought him swinging back upright to sit on the branch just in time to see a wedge of swans flying slender-necked in silhouette against the moon before they turned, descending rapidly towards the manor house and the lake.
He grinned. âHey, it looks like Delilahâs back. Maybe someone out thereâs listening to me after all.â
Kyri left her grazing and came cantering into the clearing. The sky was brightening and he stood up, straightening the cloak around his shoulders. He retrieved the spear and pulled the dagger out of the gnarled bark. But there was still the same nagging doubt. What have I missed?
The hissing echoed sharply under the dome as the heavy birds flew low over the observatory. Sir Jonas picked up the binoculars, focusing them on the centre of the lake. He had counted seven swans on the water, no more, before a flash of white light blinded his single eye, burning into his empty socket as though he had taken the thrust of a gigantic spear directly into his head. He slid down the steps of the observing ladder, an agonised hammering in the middle of his chest pounding the same words over and over until he thought he would go utterly mad. Who sacrifices? Who sacrifices ?
The pain in his head was