alive,” the giant said in a voice that rolled like thunder.
“Not at all,” said the gray man. “It never even occurred to him to kill us. Thirteen years have taken the edge off the good captain.”
Spots appeared before Cal. He concentrated on the new assailant’s deep baritone voice and tried not to black out. The man had to be close to eight feet. He had a jutting jaw and heavy brows. His lips were like two fat bloodworms copulating. His nose was broad, his bottom teeth protruded, and stuck out even when his mouth was closed. They were speaking in a foreign language he never studied, yet he understood every word. The giant called them Symian and Kraten. They called him Hesz. Cal committed the names to memory.
Kraten found Cal’s wallet and pulled a photo from it. “MacDonnell has a woman,” he said, showing the picture to his cohorts. “And a brat. Many will find that very intriguing back home,” he said with a grin.
“He does not even know who he really is,” Symian continued. “Besides, if we had guns this would have been easier.”
“No!” said Kraten. “I’m a warrior. I want to touch death through my sword. Bolts are for children and archers.”
“How will they take to you running through maidens and allies with your sword back in Aandor?” Symian said. “Perhaps we can run it through MacDonnell’s wench next, great warrior.”
The swordsman was ready to run his accomplice through again when Hesz interceded.
“ENOUGH!” he bellowed. “Guns are loud. They draw attention.”
“This mission was a waste of time,” Kraten said. “MacDonnell is a pawn waiting for his pension.”
Cal tried to get up and stumbled. Hesz put his foot on the officer. Hesz crouched low to look Cal in the eye and in a mocking tone whispered, “Is this lie you live so complete, MacDonnell, that you will die a stranger to yourself?” Frost clung to Cal’s cheeks and they turned numb. “Where is the boy? I promise your death will be quick.”
Cal threw a right cross at Hesz’s face. The blow glanced off his jaw with little effect. It was like hitting a wall of bone. Hesz grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Cal went numb; Hesz’s breath was giving him frostbite and he couldn’t inhale for the grip. Cal kicked Hesz in the groin with little effect. The other two laughed.
“If only his father could have seen that wench’s move,” Symian said. “What would his father have thought?”
“You know Hesz’s grandsire was a frost giant, boy,” Kraten said. “The family jewels are recessed to keep from freezing.”
Cal started to black out. He wished he’d had more time to sort things through … to say good-bye to Cat and Bree, to learn the mysteries of his past. So many things undone. He wondered if the blinding ball of white light flashing across the hallway was the gateway to the afterlife.
2
Symian screamed as the side of his face burst into flames. He covered his face with his hands, trying to smother the fire as blood poured from his eyes. The shock caused Hesz to loosen his grip, which allowed Cal to gasp a gulp of sweet air.
An insight about frost giants danced beyond the reach of Cal’s mind. If only he could remember. Hesz and Kraten looked in the direction of the flare. They failed to notice the figure coming from the other direction. All of a sudden, Kraten’s head was introduced to the broad side of a Louisville slugger. He fell like a sack of bricks.
Hesz hit the batter with a backhanded slap, which sent the man tumbling down the stairway. He turned toward the floating flare, which had subsided to mere illumination. A tall young woman with red hair held a ball of crackling blue-white light in her palm. Hesz released Cal and charged her. Cal leaned on the door frame and tried not to slip down farther as he watched the fight, unable to help. A devious smile graced the woman’s lips. She turned around, exposing her back to Hesz, then bent over as though picking up a
“Not at all,” said the gray man. “It never even occurred to him to kill us. Thirteen years have taken the edge off the good captain.”
Spots appeared before Cal. He concentrated on the new assailant’s deep baritone voice and tried not to black out. The man had to be close to eight feet. He had a jutting jaw and heavy brows. His lips were like two fat bloodworms copulating. His nose was broad, his bottom teeth protruded, and stuck out even when his mouth was closed. They were speaking in a foreign language he never studied, yet he understood every word. The giant called them Symian and Kraten. They called him Hesz. Cal committed the names to memory.
Kraten found Cal’s wallet and pulled a photo from it. “MacDonnell has a woman,” he said, showing the picture to his cohorts. “And a brat. Many will find that very intriguing back home,” he said with a grin.
“He does not even know who he really is,” Symian continued. “Besides, if we had guns this would have been easier.”
“No!” said Kraten. “I’m a warrior. I want to touch death through my sword. Bolts are for children and archers.”
“How will they take to you running through maidens and allies with your sword back in Aandor?” Symian said. “Perhaps we can run it through MacDonnell’s wench next, great warrior.”
The swordsman was ready to run his accomplice through again when Hesz interceded.
“ENOUGH!” he bellowed. “Guns are loud. They draw attention.”
“This mission was a waste of time,” Kraten said. “MacDonnell is a pawn waiting for his pension.”
Cal tried to get up and stumbled. Hesz put his foot on the officer. Hesz crouched low to look Cal in the eye and in a mocking tone whispered, “Is this lie you live so complete, MacDonnell, that you will die a stranger to yourself?” Frost clung to Cal’s cheeks and they turned numb. “Where is the boy? I promise your death will be quick.”
Cal threw a right cross at Hesz’s face. The blow glanced off his jaw with little effect. It was like hitting a wall of bone. Hesz grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Cal went numb; Hesz’s breath was giving him frostbite and he couldn’t inhale for the grip. Cal kicked Hesz in the groin with little effect. The other two laughed.
“If only his father could have seen that wench’s move,” Symian said. “What would his father have thought?”
“You know Hesz’s grandsire was a frost giant, boy,” Kraten said. “The family jewels are recessed to keep from freezing.”
Cal started to black out. He wished he’d had more time to sort things through … to say good-bye to Cat and Bree, to learn the mysteries of his past. So many things undone. He wondered if the blinding ball of white light flashing across the hallway was the gateway to the afterlife.
2
Symian screamed as the side of his face burst into flames. He covered his face with his hands, trying to smother the fire as blood poured from his eyes. The shock caused Hesz to loosen his grip, which allowed Cal to gasp a gulp of sweet air.
An insight about frost giants danced beyond the reach of Cal’s mind. If only he could remember. Hesz and Kraten looked in the direction of the flare. They failed to notice the figure coming from the other direction. All of a sudden, Kraten’s head was introduced to the broad side of a Louisville slugger. He fell like a sack of bricks.
Hesz hit the batter with a backhanded slap, which sent the man tumbling down the stairway. He turned toward the floating flare, which had subsided to mere illumination. A tall young woman with red hair held a ball of crackling blue-white light in her palm. Hesz released Cal and charged her. Cal leaned on the door frame and tried not to slip down farther as he watched the fight, unable to help. A devious smile graced the woman’s lips. She turned around, exposing her back to Hesz, then bent over as though picking up a
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