Free The Path of Ravens (Asgard vs. Aliens Book 1) by P.K. Lentz Page B

shoulder like slaughtered game, saw the gnawed bones at the
entrance to the cave.
    "No..." I breathe. I sink to one knee,
and Crow rushes to my side, offering support. "It cannot be."
    "We felt deep sorrow over their loss,"
Ares offers.
    "No..." I repeat, regaining my feet
and shrugging off Crow's aid. "Had she died... I would know it.
If no remains were seen, then Ayessa lives. I am certain. Was any
effort given to finding her?"
    Ares' head shakes, sympathetically. "A
search was conducted. No trace of her was found."
    I do not say it, lest my brethren think me
obsessed, which perhaps I am, but I know what I must do. I will
search for Ayessa myself, for as long as it takes either to find her
or to satisfy myself that she is truly gone.
    "How long ago did the attack occur?" I
ask.
    Ares cocks his head in thought. "The walls
of Neolympus were not yet complete, so... seven months ago, perhaps
eight."
    Uncomprehending, I stare at him. " Eight...
months? " I attempt to grasp how this might be possible, but
my mind spins circles. "How long have you been in this world?"
    Ares' dark brow furrows momentarily, then his
sharp eyes show understanding. "Ahh," he intones.
"Interesting. Evidently, there must exist between our world and
this one some discrepancy in the flow  of time. In the minutes
or hours it took you to follow us, seasons passed here. That goes far
toward explaining your current living conditions, and why we have
only just learned of your presence."
    I do not find this new knowledge interesting,
nor do I care for explanations. I only know that Ayessa is missing
and her trail hundreds of days cold. I know what course I must take.
My sense of duty to these  people whose leader I have made
myself is strong indeed, but stronger still is the pull upon me of
she whom once I loved so dearly that even death failed to separate
us. She who in her current form despises me.
    She who in another life I called...  Wellspring .
    But it is not only concern for her which compels
me; my desire to pursue Ayessa is also a selfish one, for I feel that
only through her can I ever reclaim the knowledge of who I once was.
    Soon, I decide in that moment, I must pass on
the leadership of our people to Crow, that I might embark on my own
quest of my own...
    But I cannot speak of these things. For now, no
one must know.
    I turn and address my fellow Atlanteans. "Do
any among us have cause to reject the invitation of Ares?    Do
any not wish to dwell in peace with the Chrysioi in the city they
have built, that greater safety might be found in combining our
strength? Speak now!"
    No voices are raised. I turn to Ares, who smiles
as I bid him, "Take us to Neolympus."

12.
Neolympus
    Well before we reach the city, I can see why the
Chrysioi chose the site on which they have built their new city.
Unless giants are better climbers than folk of our stature (which is
the case, for all I know) then Neolympus would seem to have only one,
arduous route of approach. But inaccessibility is not its only
defense. A surrounding wall, carved from the stone of the mountain,
makes the city all but invisible from afar. It remains so until one
is almost upon it, at which time the sight inspires awe.
    I do not know exactly how many Chrysioi there
are, but no matter the number, I find it hard to comprehend how they
could have accomplished so much in so few seasons. As we near the
great timber gates of the wall, I realize that each stone block is as
tall as I am.  Did I not know better, I would think this the
work of Pyrakmon's people. The wall is ... Cyclopean.
    It is a sobering sight. If the Chrysioi can
build this, we cannot possibly stand against them. If they were to
insist on making slaves of us, we would have but two choices:
submission or death. If it turns out that Ares has spoken falsely in
drawing us here, I honestly cannot say which of those two I would
choose.
    Behind the stark surrounding wall lies a
paradise. There are more structures than I can count,