Free An Oath of Brothers by Morgan Rice Page B

surrounded by boulders, and it was hard to think amidst the incessant crashing of the waves. It looked impregnable, impossible for any army to scale.
    Thor held a hand up to his eyes and squinted into the sun. The cliffs seemed to stop at some point, to cap off in a plateau hundreds of feet high. Whoever lived up there, at the top, would live safely forever, Thor realized. Assuming anyone lived up there at all.
    At the very top, hovering over the island like a halo, was a ring of clouds, soft pink and purple, blanketing it from the harsh rays of the sun, as if this place were crowned by God himself. A gentle breeze stirred here, the air pleasant and mild. Thor could sense even from here that there was something special about this place. It felt magical. He had not felt this way since he had reached the land of his mother’s castle.
    All the others looked up, too, expressions of wonder across their faces.
    “Who do you suppose lives here?” O’Connor asked aloud the question on all of their minds.
    “Who—or what?” Reece asked.
    “Maybe no one,” Indra said.
    “Maybe we should sail on,” O’Connor said.
    “And skip the invitation?” Matus asked. “I see seven ropes, and there are seven of us.”
    Thor examined the cliffs and as he looked closely, he saw seven golden ropes dangling from the top down to the shores, glistening in the sun. He wondered.
    “Maybe someone’s expecting us,” Elden said.
    “Or tempting us,” Indra said.
    “But who?” Reece asked.
    Thor looked up at the very top, all of these same thoughts racing through his mind. He wondered who could know they were coming. Were they being watched somehow?
    They all stood in the boat silently, bobbing in the water, as the current brought them ever closer.
    “The real question,” Thor asked aloud, finally breaking the silence, “is if they are friendly—or if this is a trap?”
    “Does it make any difference?” Matus asked, coming up beside him.
    Thor shook his head.
    “No,” he said, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. “We will visit it either way. If friend, we will embrace them; if foe, we will kill them.”
    The currents picked up, and long, rolling waves carried their boat all the way to the narrow shore of black sand that surrounded the place. Their boat washed gently up, lodging on it, and as it did, everyone all jumped out at once.
    Thor gripped the hilt of his sword, on edge, and looked about in every direction. There was no movement on the beach, nothing but the crashing of the waves.
    Thor walked up to the base of the cliffs, laid his palm on them, felt how smooth they were, felt the heat and energy radiating off of them. He examined the ropes which rose straight up the cliff, sheathing his sword and grabbing hold of one.
    He tugged on it. It didn’t give.
    One by one the others joined him, each grabbing a rope and tugging on it.
    “Will it hold?” O’Connor wondered aloud, looking straight up.
    They all looked up, clearly wondering the same thing.
    “There is only one way to find out,” Thor said.
    Thor grabbed the rope with both hands, jumped up, and began his ascent. All around him the others did the same, all of them scaling the cliffs like mountain goats.
    Thor climbed and climbed, his muscles aching, burning under the sun. Sweat poured down his neck, stung his eyes, and all of his limbs shook.
    And yet at the same time, there was something magical about these ropes, some energy that supported him—and the others—and made him climb faster than he’d ever had, as if the ropes were pulling him up.
    Much sooner than he’d imagined possible, Thor found himself reaching the top; he reached up and was surprised to find himself grabbing onto grass and soil. He pulled himself up, rolling onto his side, onto soft grass, exhausted, breathing hard, limbs aching. All around him, he saw the others arriving, too. They had made it. Something had wanted them up there. Thor did not know if that was cause for