We didn’t have long to wait. Wearg’s messenger soon arrived and brought with him a companion. The wizened old man moved with a litheness that didn’t match the many wrinkles on his face. He was taller than average, even taller than Eastwei, and was as thin as a post. The man was clean-shaven but his gray and white hair cascaded down his back to below his waist. He wore a long robe of green and blue platelets tied together in archaic geometric patterns. The plates shimmered like scales in the sunlight before the shadows of the cave stifled the light.

  Whoever the man was, his face was ghastly white and completely devoid of emotion. Even Dadan couldn’t have pulled off that level of indifference. The guy was indifferent to indifference itself.

  Wearg’s man brought the ‘judge’ over to him and bowed to his king. “Lord Wyrmir, my king.”

  Wearg smiled at the impassive god. “I’m sorry to bother you on such short notice, Lord Wyrmir, but we couldn’t think of anyone better suited to judge the contest than you.”

  This close to the strange pale god, I could now see his eyes had a creepy filminess over them. It gave the appearance of swamp water that hid some dark, nameless horror.

  That nameless horror fell on me and a creaking voice came from that pale face. “Who is she?”

  Wearg was so surprised by the question that he blinked at his guest. “Who, Lord Wyrmir?”

  Wyrmir slowly nodded his head at me without breaking eye contact. “That woman beside the princess. Who is she?”

  I shrank beneath the attention as all eyes settled on me. “That woman is Lady Anna, a guest of mine. She is to be the prize for the duel. Whoever wins shall have her.”

  “She is a goddess.”

  The reply was a statement but Wearg still nodded his head. “Yes, Lord Wyrmir. One from the heavens.”

  Wyrmir narrowed his cloudy eyes at me. “Where do you hail, Lady Anna?”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to find my voice. “I-I’m from out of town.”

  Wyrmir stared at me without blinking once. A shiver ran down my spine and I shrank against Arian.

  “Will you judge for us, Lord Wyrmir?” Wearg spoke up.

  The pale lord finally turned his focus away from me and to the wolf king. “I will.”

  Wearg smiled and used a hand to gesture to a position near the rear wall of the grotto. “Then if you would please.”

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  Wyrmir turned away and moved over to the spot some forty yards away. The distance wasn’t far enough, especially as I had that though he stared ahead, his focus still lay on me.

  I leaned close to Arian’s head and lowered my voice to a whisper. “Who is that guy?”

  “Lord Wyrmir is the god who is charged with managing the rolls of the immortals. It is his duty to write their names when they are born and scratch off their names if they have died.”

  “He’d be better as the god of the dead. . .” I murmured.

  Any further conversation was interrupted when Wearg strode almost halfway across the gap between the other group and where we stood.

  “The judge is here and knows the rules. Shall we get this over with?” Wearg shouted at his opponent as he began to unbutton his shirt.

  Pangberan’s reply was to remove his shirt and pants, leaving him in his underclothing. The two men were equally lacking in clothes as they strode forward and stopped some twenty feet from each other.

  The lord of the immortal rolls lifted one pale hand in the air. “You will both abide by this contest of skill. The first to give up or collapse will lose the match.” He dropped his hand, slicing the air in front of him. “Begin.”

  Fur exploded out of their bodies and their faces elongated into snouts. The men raced forward and by the time they reached each other, they were both fully transformed. The match was unequal but in no one’s favor. Wearg was much faster but his bites had less effect on the thick fur of the bear king. Pangberan was slow but his heavy swipes cut deep.

  They bit and tore at one another. Fur was torn and flesh was broken. Cuts and gashes were opened. Blood was spilled. The ground was splattered with their life fluid.

  Arian stiffened at my side and her face lost all its color. Tears sprang into her eyes with every cut her father endured.

  The transformed gods separated after several minutes of battle. Their worn bodies heaved air and blood, and their fur hides were coated in the gore. One of Pangberan’s eyes was shut tight with a claw mark over it. Wearg limped because of a huge gash on a front leg. They both wheezed and the bear king choked on something before he spit out blood droplets.

  “Father!” Arian shouted as she tried to rush to him. One of our captors held her at bay.

  “My king!” one of the wolf soldiers yelled at Wearg. “You must stop this!” Wearg turned his head and snarled at his man, causing the other wolf to recoil.

  The pair steadied themselves on their feet and prepared for another assault. This would decide their fates. I could see it in their eyes. One wouldn’t ever get up from this last charge.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  My heart pounded in my chest as the blood poured from their wounds, marring the brown earth with the scarlet-colored tragedy before me.

  And all because of me. If I hadn’t come here then the truce would still exist. This was all because of me.

  So I had to stop it. No matter what.

  I felt a familiar tingle in my hands as my silver strands floated out of my palms. Grandmother’s magic rippled around my body before the whole facade collapsed, revealing my true silver-haired self. I didn’t care. At that moment there was only one thought, and that was to stop this madness I had caused.

  The two wolf captors on either side of me noticed my bright light and change in form. They pushed Arian away from me and grabbed my arms. I wriggled in their grasp and their claws accidentally cut into my wrists, drawing blood.

  And that’s when all hell broke loose.