Chapter Ten

Amora groaned as she slowly got to her feet. How long had she been in that tunnel-chute, whatever it was? It felt like hours, sliding down it. At least it had been smooth. She checked her shoulders the best that she could; they seemed relatively intact, no raw flesh. Her tunic was torn, though, and her scalp felt like half of her hair had been torn out. Rubbing her head, she looked around.

She appeared to be in a crystalline cave. The walls sparkled with light, and it was smooth like glass. "Atum must have been busy, going through all this trouble. What is it, though?" She murmured to herself.

She took a few steps forward, pressing her hand to the reflective wall. Just in time.

"Whoa... oof!" Skurge came tumbling out of the chute, landing in a heap where she'd been standing seconds before. She darted to his side, helping him up.

"Are you alright?" They laughed as they both spoke simultaneously.

"I'm fine," Amora said, and then Skurge assured her of the same thing.

"So... Any idea what's next?" Skurge asked.

"No. It seems to me like we're just sort of stumbling around blindly with this thing. But wait..." Amora walked over to the other side of the crystal room. "There are some carved runes here. I can't make them out, though, everything looks the same."

Skurge joined her and frowned. "I won't be able to help with this."

"Why not?"

"I can't read."

Amora's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Never was taught. It's never bothered me, though."

Amora could barely grasp this. "You don't know how to..." She shook her head. "I can teach you once we get out of this, if you want?"

"Might be useful... but I think we should focus on getting out of here for now, we'll discuss my illiteracy later, alright? Do you have any idea what those runes say?"

"No... this one kind of looks like 'follow' but it's so faded, I can't be sure!" Amora kicked the wall in frustration. "Now what?"

"You said that you talked about literary critics with Atum. You are obviously well-versed in language. I'd say it's for you to discover what it says and then we follow the instructions." Skurge reached out and touched the runes. "Hang on... is that a button?"

"Where?" Amora felt it with him and shook her head. "No, that's not a button. It's more like... I don't know. Part of another rune? It's so bright I can't see..."

"If we knew where that light was coming from I'd block it."

Amora straightened. "Follow... if we assume the next word is "the" and then... stage?"

Skurge shrugged. "You're in charge right now, it's gibberish to me. So we should go that way?" He pointed in the direction Amora was looking.

"I suppose so... come on, it's our best lead." She set off tentatively, far from sure this was wise, but having no better ideas. Skurge followed her silently. She scanned the walls for more runes as they walked, hoping for better directions.

"Follow the stage," Amora murmured. "Follow the stage."

"Beloved, you could have read it wrong."

"I probably did," Amora agreed. "But on the other hand it might be exactly what it means and I'm just not getting it because Atum is so obscure! I mean, he dug up a poem that I wrote when I was thirteen for those arrows, employed a song Mother sang to me when I was a child against the sand devil, and then added quicksand just for the heck of it, it seems... Do you know any plays that feature treasure hunts?"

"Not particularly. Do you?"

"A few. None that have crystalline caves, though."

Skurge frowned. "Unless the cave was meant to signify something else reflective."

"Like what?" Amora sighed. "We'd better just keep going until one of us thinks of something else."

They walked through a few more twists and turns, Skurge at least grateful to be out of the desert sun, until they made it round one last corner... and discovered a dead end. Amora almost burst into tears.

"What purpose could this possibly serve?"

"I don't know, he's your uncle."

"Follow the stage! I don't understand." Amora kicked the wall savagely.

"Maybe you're thinking too hard?" Skurge suggested. He gently began to massage her shoulders.

"I've got a different idea," she replied, turning around and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Skurge enjoyed her embrace and kisses for a moment before pulling away. "You said your uncle could be watching us."

"Out there. And if he's watching in here then he'd better stop!"

She pressed her lips to his again. Skurge rapidly forgot about the possibility of being watched, along with what they were supposed to be doing. Amora's arms wrapped around him and he pulled her closer, manoeuvring her to the floor and lying next to her...

"Wait-" Amora was suddenly standing back up. "Wait, wait, wait! Follow the stage! It's an actor's direction. It means..." she rapped at her forehead with her knuckles. "Give me a moment. It means... improvisation. Diverging from the script. That's not helpful."

Skurge got to his feet with a weary sigh. "Follow the stage? I guess that just means that we're got to find our own way out of this, there aren't any clues."

"I guess." Amora pressed her hand to the crystal. "But haven't we been improvising- oh. Oh!"

"What? Skurge asked, completely bewildered.

"Atum told me not to use magic. But if we're supposed to break from the script..."

"Then maybe magic is the only solution." Skurge realised. "But what sort of spell could help us?"

Amora frowned, pacing back and forth for a few minutes. Skurge took the time to re-arrange his clothes. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well?"

Amora's eyes narrowed. "There are spells to reveal paths... but they normally only work if the caster knows what they're looking for! And the cure could be anything..."

"Maybe you should, uh, 'ask' the spell to find the ship?"

Amora felt like slapping herself. Why can't I see such obvious things? She smiled winningly at Skurge. "See, I knew there was a reason why I needed you with me."

"I knew it had to be something," he replied with an equally winning smile.

Amora readied herself, and then muttered a finding spell. She waited a moment, and then the crystal at the dead end began to glow red. They both stepped back and started at the wall.

"Now what?" Skurge after a moment of nothing happening.

"I don't... Maybe we can break it down," Amora suggested quickly, not wanting to be left behind from the obvious again.

"Worth a try."

Skurge hefted his axe and struck with all his strength. It crashed with a great clang, and the axe sunk hilt-deep. The red glow increased and he tried to pull it back out, only to find that he couldn't. He gave a great yank - and the axe was suddenly pulled through to the other side. His face collided with the wall and he fell backwards, hitting the floor hard. He groaned with pain.

Amora raced to his side. "Are you alright?"

"Been better." Skurge groaned, lurching back to his feet. "Apparently breaking it down by force is not the solution... is there some spell that can make rock vanish or something?"

"Not that I know of... I could use fire to try and melt it, I suppose... but that means risking damaging the ship..."

"Assuming that the ship is on the other side."

Amora hummed in agreement. She stepped forward and placed her hand on the crystal. To her surprise, it felt like warm gel, and her hand passed straight through. "Um..."

"It didn't do that for me."

"Well, I guess we know who's supposed to go through and who's supposed to stay behind now," Amora muttered. She turned back to Skurge, and pulled her hand out. "I suppose this is a way to split us up."

Skurge nodded seriously. "He is your uncle. And he has been favouring you."

"He has," Amora agreed quietly, suppressing a shiver. He's my father. She couldn't tell him that! She just couldn't... Could she? It would change the way he saw her, it would change everything. She was trying to leave Sigyn behind... She turned back to the wall. "Skurge..."

"Yes?" he pressed after a moment of silence.

"We can be anything we want with each other, right?"

"Of course."

Amora turned back to him. "I promise I'll come back."

"I know you will."

She stepped through the wall without another word. Skurge sighed and sat down to wait.

"Finally," a cold, deadly voice said behind him, "we have a chance to talk, just you and I."

Skurge leapt to his feet, instinctively going for his axe- before remembering he didn't have it any more. He whirled, his face paling as he saw who was standing behind him. He swallowed heavily, his mouth dry. Now what?

Atum stood in the corridor, his arms folded, his green eyes (so much like Loki's!) narrowed. Skurge bowed low.

"My lord," he greeted warily.

"No need for that," Atum waved a hand. "If I decide that I don't like you no amount of bowing is going to change my mind."

Skurge swallowed again. So was this why he and Amora had been separated? So that the sun-god could kill him without his niece knowing about it? It would be very easy for Atum to just kill him now and hide him body in the desert. He was a frost giant; it wasn't like anybody would find the remains!

"I have some questions for you, Helblindi," Atum said, stalking forward. "The first of which is why you decided to come out here with my niece. So why did you abandon hearth and home for a whirlwind adventure with a woman that you barely knew?"

"I... I am not needed on Jotunheim. I saw an opportunity to become someone that I am not, and to shed the duty and responsibility that I have had all my life. It was a chance for a new start, one that I did not want to pass up."

"Hmm." Atum didn't look convinced. "And Sigyn fits into that how, exactly?"

"It was her suggestion after we... became acquainted. She sought a new beginning as well."

"Your 'acquaintance'..."

Skurge held the sun-god's gaze, although Angrboda's warning flashed through his mind. Am I to die today? I hope not.

"Who initiated that?"

"It was mutual," Skurge replied slowly. "I asked to kiss her, just as she asked me to kiss her. And things just proceeded from there..."

Atum was contemplating him coldly.

"I would never have done anything if I wasn't entirely certain that she wanted it as well!"

"And the thought that her wits might have been confused after long exposure to a storm did not occur to you?"

"She wasn't exposed to the storm for long!" Skurge protested.

"She isn't a Jotunn. She cannot handle the cold and wind the same way you can."

Skurge opened his mouth and then closed it. He was silent for a long time. "I don't think that her wits could be that scrambled by the cold. Besides, she has proven since then that she did in fact want to!"

"I'm not interested in your love life. Will you remain so loyal to her if she has a child?"

Skurge wondered if it was possible to melt under the sun-god's glare. "Should such a thing happen-"

"Which it will, eventually."

"Then I will remain at her side for as long as she wishes me to. I would never abandon her, especially not if she bears my child!"

"Hmm."

Skurge held Atum's gaze the best he could, and then a frightening - and thrilling - thought occurred to him. "Wait - are you saying that she's pregnant?"

"No, not yet. But I have foresight, Jotünn. I know that there will be a child eventually."

Just the knowledge that it would happen made Skurge's face blossom into a smile. He had never truly considered that he would be a father one day; his reputation as a melting man on Jotunheim was enough to keep him the laughingstock of women on the planet. Nobody wanted a husband like him!

Atum's gaze, by contrast, was stony by now. "I hope for your sake you will make an honest woman of her before that happens, not because of it."

Skurge's face fell into a frown. "I am not certain what you mean. I am not going to make Amora into anything, and I certainly will not attempt to make her do anything that she does not want to do. If you were referring to marriage, then I suppose eventually it may be thought of between myself and your niece, but if that happens, it will because she and I want to, not because she is with child, and certainly not because of any threats that concerned and well-meaning relatives may deliver. Neither of us will be forced into wedlock."

Atum glared at him with narrowed eyes. "That all sounds very well and good but be assured of this, Helblindi Gunnlodjarson, if any harm comes to Sigyn, either by your hand or any other's, while you travel together, then I will exact the toll from you. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Skurge replied seriously. "I will do everything in my power-"

"Then we shall see what power you have."

And then the next thing he knew, Skurge was grappling with the sun-god. The heat was overwhelming; Atum punched him in the face; his head snapped backwards and he stumbled backwards. A fist slammed into his chest and the Jotunn realised that if he did not do something soon he could easily be dead within moments. He swung at the god-slayer, his fist connecting with Atum's chin, but it seemed to hurt him more than it did Atum!

The fight continued for some time, but each blow of Helblindi's was weaker than the last. What is the point of this, does he mean to kill me? He reeled from another blow to his face and staggered, never realising that Atum was pulling his punches.

"This is how you are going to defend Sigyn?" the sun-god sneered, stalking forward to kick him in the stomach.

Skurge groaned, doubling over. It took him a moment to regain his breath. "Amora," he corrected, and then lunged, landing a solid blow to Atum's abdomen before the sun-god got hold of him and threw him to the ground. "And yes... with every ounce of strength I have!"

He tried to attack again, but this time Atum merely sidestepped him and held out a hand. "Enough."

Skurge gratefully leaned against the wall, panting with exertion and pain. "What-," he panted, "was- the- point- of- that?"

"I needed to see how capable you were, and how determined. And congratulations. You passed the test. I'm not going to kill you right now."

"Thank you," Skurge muttered. "You'll just wait for the toxin to run its course then? Unless we find the cure."

Atum waved his hand airily. "I only said that to give 'Amora' added incentive, and to see just what the relationship between the two of you was. There is no cure, because there was no toxin."

Skurge stared in disbelief. He said something very loudly that caused Atum to raise his brows.

"Language, Jotunn! I'll not have my niece picking up bad habits from you."

"I have a feeling Amora will use worse language when she finds out all this was a ruse... where is she, anyway? Where did that tunnel take her?"

"To the ship. I just wanted to be able to have a chat with you." Atum smiled in a cunning manner. "You should be able to live off of the food, water and treasures I've provided for several years, provided you don't attempt to buy any planets. But don't think that this is over. In the future, I expect a... favour from the two of you."

"What sort of favour?"

"I haven't decided. Now, shall we go tell Amora that her worrying has been for naught?" He waved his hand and the wall between them seemed to melt. On the other side stood Amora, lips pressed tightly together.

"I heard the whole thing," she said stiffly.

Skurge grinned slightly, stepping aside so Amora could let rip at her uncle all she wanted. She didn't disappoint him.

"You are the most cruel, callous, cold-blooded being I have ever met!" she shouted. "What was the point of this? You put us through the stress and worry for nothing? Why? WHY?"

"I needed to see how tight your relationship really was."

"What is that supposed to mean? I am here because I want to be! Did you put all of Mor's lovers through this? Because I don't remember any of this growing up! What makes you think that you have the right to put me through that?"

Atum folded his arms. "I am entitled to see to your safety in any way I see fit. As your oldest male relative-"

"Be quiet!" Amora yelled, terrified of what he actually intended to say.

"Now that I know that you will take care of each other," Atum continued. "And seeing that Skurge will defend you-"

"I can defend myself!"

"Then I am satisfied. I can go back to your mother and tell her that you are fine with a clear conscience."

Amora scowled. "Fine. Glad all it took was us exhausting ourselves and worrying to death to convince you of that!"

"It was more than just that. I needed to know how the two of you would react when you get pregnant."

Amora flushed. "I'm not pregnant."

"Not yet."

Amora narrowed her eyes. "You've foreseen something..."

"Perhaps."

"Tell me!"

"The way you two carry on? Foresight is not a necessity, Amora. Just knowledge on how babies are created."

They both went red. Amora kept her eyes on the floor. "Was there anything else you wanted, Uncle?"

Atum shook his head. "Is there anything that you want me to tell your mother when I return to Asgard?"

"Only that I'm fine, and I will find a way to send her more messages from time to time."

Atum nodded and turned to Skurge. "And you? Do you have anything that you wish to say to your family on Jotunheim?"

"I have no family," Skurge replied, "save for Angrboda, and I very much doubt that she will even notice the lack of my presence."

Atum wasn't sure how to respond to that- having no family was not something he could really empathise with. "... Very well. I will take my leave." He disappeared in a flash of light.

Amora and Skurge blinked rapidly in the sudden glare. When their eyes recovered, Skurge smiled warmly at her.

"Well, now we have enough supplies to last a while... ready to move on again?"

"Yes," Amora muttered darkly. "I am."

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"Lady Amora, it is indeed an honour to finally meet you!" the mass of muscles disguised as a man bowed low over her hand.

"I am sure it is," Amora replied, eyeing the tapestries that hung on the walls. "This place is... old."

"It's been in my family for near five generations! Let me show you to your quarters... Although I'm afraid your man will have to stay with the other servants."

"Servants?" Amora repeated.

"I would be delighted to stay with your personal staff," Skurge interrupted, and then leaned down to Amora. "Why not?" he whispered. "I'll be your servant here, next place you can be mine, alright?"

"Fair enough. Could be fun playing the role." Amora whispered back, and looked back at their host. "I suppose that will be a fine arrangement. Skurge, get your lady some water, will you?"

"Yes, mistress," he replied, his tone bordering on the supercilious.

She hid a laugh at his attitude, before following her colossal host into the building. There were plenty of other finely-dressed people milling about, but no sign of any servants. I suppose they all had to lodge outside...

"So, Lady Amora, what brings a woman of such esteem to our languid halls?"

Amora smirked; this man was clearly trying to cover up the fact that he had no idea who she was! What was truly comical was how easily he had been fooled but a sharp glance and a rebuking tone... "I was passing by."

"Halt!" a man cried.

Amora turned to find that Skurge was blocked from entry by two men. He held a bucket in his hands, and she fought a giggle. So he was going to play the fool, was he?

"Why has my man been stopped?" She demanded in her most haughty voice, arching an eyebrow at her host.

"Servants are not permitted into the hall, my most gracious lady," her host, Blarge, explained. "It is a place of cleanliness."

"Then who is going to wait on me? You?"

Blarge blinked. "There is no need for any person to wait on you here, Lady Amora. We have waiting droids, they will do as you wish."

"Oh, yes, the droids, of course..." Amora tried not to sound puzzled. "That's all very well and good, but I would prefer to have my servant tend me. I dislike droids."

"But my lady, he is..." Blarge glanced over his shoulder. "Uncouth. He will upset the others."

"Then they are far too delicate and should be exposed to more uncouth things!"

Blarge looked uneasy. "My lady, I really don't think-"

"No, you plainly aren't thinking. I told you to let my man inside. Is that difficult to understand?" Amora smirked- playing a high-handed role was actually fun!

Blarge floundered helplessly.

"Let him in," Amora called to the guards.

The guards hesitated, looking at Blarge. He threw his hands up, surrendering. "Do as my lady says."

"Finally!" Amora heaved an exaggerated sigh as Skurge brought the water to her. "Why'd it take so long?"

"I apologize my lady," Skurge said. "They wouldn't let me in."

"Hmm. Well, I've sorted it now, they'll let you pass from now on, isn't that right, good sir?"

Blarge nodded weakly.

Amora smirked. "Now why did you bring a bucket when all I asked for was a drink?"

Skurge scratched his head, acting up the role of a fool, despite his eyes gleaming, and his wink at her. "There was nothing else to carry water in, my lady."

"Then find a glass!"

He straightened up. "At once, my lady." He looked around the room for a cupboard or something. I'm going to get her back for this when it's her turn to play servant!

"And while you're at it find me something to eat. Make sure its dead and cooked this time. "

Skurge frowned, but decided to play along. "That only happened once!"

"And I was ill for a week!"

"You're enjoying this far too much." Skurge muttered as he went towards what he assumed was the kitchen.

"Don't I know it! " Amora giggled to herself. She lounged back on her chair, idly wondering just how far she could push Skurge during this charade.

Blarge went away, looking none too happy and the others in the hall stared at her - and Skurge, when he returned - with distaste. Skurge handed her a glass of water, and then a plate of something that looked like small spiky cactuses.

"What is this?" She looked down her nose at it, not feigning her disgust.

"It's what they had in the kitchen, my lady."

"It looks disgusting, get rid of it!"

"Where?"

"I don't know. You eat them."

Skurge shrugged and popped the spiky things into his mouth and started chewing. Around them were stifled gasps.

Skurge looked around, confused. "Whassamatter?" he asked with his mouth full.

"You just fed your servant over three billion golds worth of-" a nearby old man clutched his heart, staring at Amora, aghast.

"Sorry," Skurge muttered, and fighting a grin spat the chewed-up things back onto the plate. They tasted horrible anyway. "Here you go, sir!"

The man backed up, his face going green. Amora merely looked curious.

"These... things are valuable?"

"They are a delicacy!"

Amora hummed. "Interesting... Skurge, dear, go get me some new ones will you?"

"Of course, Mistress."

Skurge headed back to the kitchen. Amora sat back, planning her next line in this acting game.

"L-lady Amora," another of the loungers, a woman this time, said, "where is your family from?"

"Heliopolis," Amora replied lazily, deciding that Asgard wasn't really prestigious enough for this crowd.

There was a surprised murmur throughout the room.

"We don't see many from there." The woman commented.

"No?"

"The last one was... well, she called herself Sekhmet and she was... uncouth."

"Sekhmet," Amora repeated, brow furrowing. "I know that name."

"She claimed to be Lord Atum's daughter."

Amora's heart sank. A half-sister... Aloud, she smiled. "Oh yes, she's a cousin of mine, though I've never actually met her."

"You are related to Lord Atum?"

"He's my uncle," Amora waved her hand airily. "My mother's brother."

"Oh. I was unaware he had any siblings..."

"He has plenty. He's just embarrassed by his relatives and doesn't like to talk about them."

Skurge was returning with more spiky balls. Amora still didn't think they looked appetizing, but thanked him and popped one into her mouth. An expression of horror came over her face and she spat it on the floor. "You people spend money to eat those?"

"They are proven to be anti-aging."

She tried not to gag. "You do know that there are spells that can do that? This is revolting!"

There was a sharp gasp from the woman she was speaking to. "Spells? Magic is forbidden here!"

Amora blinked rapidly. "Since when?"

"Forever!" the woman exclaimed, and then her eyes widened. "You're a witch, aren't you?"

Amora thought fast. "No... I mean, I've read a lot about spells, but I don't use-"

"Witch!" The woman screamed. Every head in the hall turned towards them.

"No!"

But the damage had been done. Guards were running in. Amora couldn't believe her luck. Skurge dropped the tray and heated his axe. He moved to stand protectively in front of Amora as the crowd, rapidly becoming a mob, converged on them.

"Witch!" the woman was still screaming. "Witch!"

"No!" Amora was crying, but nobody paid her heed.

"Death to the witch!"

Amora's jaw dropped.

"Kill the witch! Burn her!"

"Death to all who attempt to touch my mistress!" Skurge bellowed, and instantly the mob fell back, silenced by his sharp teeth and blood-red eyes.

Skurge waited for a minute in case any 'heroes' tried anything. Nothing happened, so he returned his axe to its shoulder strap, lifted Amora to his shoulder and carried her away, pushing through the stunned crowd and keeping a menacing look on his face for good measure.

"I take it we're going back to the ship?" Amora muttered.

Skurge nodded. "And maybe our next stop won't lead to another disaster..."

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"What do you think, this one or this one?" Amora asked, holding up two outfits.

Skurge's eyes widened. "Yes to both... but what are they for?"

She winked vixenishly at him. "Wait and see!"

Skurge grinned. "I like the sound of that!"

She changed quickly and then went back out to show it off.

"Are you pleased with your servant my lord?" She asked bowing her head demurely.

Skurge smirked. "Well enough... though I do believe she should shop more quickly..."

"Patience, master. She has other surprises for you..."

"I can hardly wait for them!"

Amora smiled flirtatiously, picking up one of the bags. "Well, I am afraid Master will have to wait until we reach our hotel room to see the next one."

Skurge laughed, shaking his head at their game. "Then we had best go."

"Will Master carry my bags?"

"Master will, but this does not count as Master's turn if Amora is still in charge!"

Amora's eyes widened innocently. "But Amora lives to serve Master."

"Master really needs to learn how to resist manipulation." Skurge grumbled good naturedly as he picked up a couple of bags. To at least try and win the banter, he chose the lightest ones.

Amora pouted.

Skurge smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Come along, Amora."

"Yes, Master," she replied sweetly, and picked up the rest of the bags with exaggerated groans. "Amora serves Master as she can. But Amora is going to be so bruised and tired when she gets to the inn!"

"Does Amora plan to keep talking in the third person about herself?"

"Amora does."

He shook his head, laughing. "Skurge shall too then, though it sounds ridiculous!"

They both laughed the whole way back to the inn, attracting more than a few curious looks. Reaching their room, Amora dropped her bags unceremoniously and flung herself on the bed, groaning theatrically.

"Amora has sore feet, Master. "

"Master has sore shoulders."

"Amora's hands hurt."

"Master thinks Amora should stop whining so much!" Skurge laughed. Amora pouted at him before cracking up herself.

She climbed into his lap. "Amora wants a command."

"In that case... Master wants Amora to do what she did last night!"

Amora grinned, wrapping her arms around Skurge's neck to pull herself closer. "As Master commands..." She whispered huskily in his ear.

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"I am Lord Skurge of Heliopolis," Skurge introduced himself some time later at the palace gates. "And this is my maidservant Amora."

The guard's lip curled, clearly unimpressed. "And what brings you here?"

"We're here to see the king."

The guard's brow raised. "The king, rest his soul, is dead."

Skurge pulled a look of horror. "What? Why wasn't I informed? "

The guard blinked. "All his kin and allies were informed..."

"Well, this is the first I've heard of it!" Not that I have any idea who the king was...

"Master is sad?" Amora simpered.

Skurge nodded, his eyes downcast. Amora slipped her hand into his, acting the sympathetic but confused servant girl.

"Poor Master," she crooned.

"Thank you Amora."

The guard looked bored. "Do you want me to pass your name along to the steward or not, sir?"

"Yes, of course I want to you pass my name to the steward! He should be severely chastised for this most horrible of oversights!"

The guard finally showed some signs of nervousness. He backed away. "I shall inform him of your arrival at once, Lord Skurge."

Amora giggled, giving Skurge a mock-reproachful look once the guard left. "Do we really want to attend a funeral?"

Skurge smirked, looking down his nose at her. "Master is in charge today, Amora!"

"Of course, Master. But Amora doesn't like funerals."

"Amora might be able to wait on the ship, then, if Master decides to attend one."

"That is suitable, Master." Amora smirked. "Does Master intend to go to the funeral, then?"

"Master does. I must mourn my dear friend properly."

Amora shook her head, breaking character for a minute. "You don't even know his name!"

"So? I want to go. "

"Amora is confused Master."

"Master has his reasons. "

"Whatever. Can Amora go shopping or something if Amora gets bored?"

"Not more clothes!" Skurge feigned outrage.

Amora laughed. "No, Amora just wants some new books, Amora promises."

"Well, you can do whatever you want, if you don't want to come to the funeral."

Amora smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Master."

Skurge smiled. "Now, what should I wear to the funeral?"

"Amora likes your black suit."

"I am not wearing that in public."

Amora chuckled. "But why, Master? It is so-"

"Revealing."

"That's why Amora likes it!"

"It is not suitable for a funeral!"

"Master is such a prude!"

"Amora, come on. I need serious advice-"

The guard was returning, and they quickly took up their role playing postures again, Skurge puffed up with flexing arms, Amora wide-eyed and continually looking around. The guard from before ignored Amora, brushing past her, and addressed Skurge.

"The steward will receive you, if you'll follow me. But your servant must remain here."

Skurge nodded, meeting Amora's worried gaze. "Go back to the ship and wait there." That way, I'll know you're safe...

"Yes, Master."

The guard led Skurge away, and after a minute, Amora walked in the opposite direction. I hope we don't regret splitting up...

"My lord Skurge," the steward, a purple-faced prune of a man bowed when the guard led him in. "I am most terribly upset that this oversight has occurred and your notification of the king's death was not delivered."

"I suppose I can overlook it in these circumstances." Skurge said, trying to sound understanding. "It is fortuitous that I came here now anyway."

"Of course, of course. The funeral. I trust that you will want to pay your respects?"

"Of course. After all, I have lost a dear friend."

The steward nodded. "He was a great man."

"The universe should be in mourning." Skurge bowed his head.

The steward nodded sagely, head bowed. "I will take you to him now." He lead Skurge into a large, ornate room with a chill in the air. A golden coffin lay on the dais at the far end.

"So sad. He was such a good man."

Skurge approached the open casket slowly, looking down at the king... and gasped. There was a boy bound and gagged and very much alive in the coffin. Skurge struggled to control himself. He turned to the steward, pretending to be overcome by his emotion.

"May I have a moment alone with him?" His voice was hoarse.

"Of course, my lord." The steward bowed and left. Skurge immediately ripped the gag off the boy's face.

"Who are you?!"

The boy gasped for air, seemingly afraid to answer.

"I won't hurt you," Skurge assured. "What's your name?"

"Ivan," the boy whimpered.

"What are you doing in this coffin?"

"I- I was chosen..."

"For what?" Skurge's brow furrowed. "Are you actually the king?"

Ivan shook his head. "I- I'm the sacrifice."

"Coffins are for dead people!"

"I'm the youngest son, my father's soul went into me after he died."

Skurge grunted. "They're going to kill you?"

Ivan started to cry softly.

Skurge made up his mind. "No. I don't think so." He ripped off the boy's bindings, and lifted him out of the coffin. "Is there another way out of this room?"

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"I'm getting you out of here."

"B-but I have to help Father into the underworld!"

"He can find his own way. Is there another way out of here?"

Ivan inhaled shakily. "T-there's a door that leads into the cellar."

"Where?"

The boy pointed to a rug. Skurge yanked it out of the way, and wrenched open the trap door, reaching back and dragging Ivan with him. "Come on!"

"Why are you d-doing this?"

Skurge's brow furrowed. "I'm not just going to let them kill you!"

"Wh-Why?"

"How old are you?"

"T-twelve."

"That's far too young to die. That's why. Come on."

Ivan followed him silently as they made their way through the passage. Skurge was seething. Killing children!? It was a good thing that he and Amora stopped on this planet!

They reached the end of the tunnel, and Skurge turned to look at his young companion. "Alright, when we get out of here, I'm going to lift you, and we'll run back to my ship. You'll be safe there until we decide what to do, understand?"

Ivan nodded. Skurge reached up to the barely-visible trapdoor, and pulled. "Get ready..."

The boy nodded. Skurge flung open the door - and found himself looking at dozens of spearheads. He leapt backwards immediately, shoving Ivan behind him.

"What is the meaning of this?!" He roared in his most dangerous voice.

The steward stepped into sight. "You dare try to steal our king's body?"

Skurge gaped. "Does he look dead to you?!"

"The king is dead."

"This boy is still alive!"

"The king is dead."

"Yes, the king is dead, so why is his son in the coffin, and not him?"

The steward grabbed a spear and placed it under Skurge's throat. "If the boy is not the king, perhaps his good friend Lord Skurge should provide the sacrifice?"

Skurge readied himself to be thrust through, but then the crowd parted slightly and he saw Amora, bound and gagged, being dragged forward.

His eyes widened. "Amora!"

Her eyes were panicked, locked on his. He whirled on the steward. "Let her go!"

"I think not. The king needs a wife in the afterlife. Bring them out."

Skurge and the boy were dragged from the tunnel. Skurge went along without resisting for now- these lunatics still had Amora in their power. He'd have to move quickly to get them out of this. Ivan was trembling as they marched across the courtyard.

"The king is dead and must be buried," the steward proclaimed as they marched back into the building; Ivan was roughly thrown back into the coffin. Amora was dragged forward. "But first let us have a wedding so that our king doesn't go to the afterlife alone. But who will be proxy for the dead king in the consummation of the marriage?"

Amora's hands flared with fire, burning off her bindings instantly. A number of the guards recoiled from her. Skurge took his chance, tossing away the soldiers between him and Amora, moving in front of her, then pushing through them to the coffin, retrieving Ivan once again.

"What manner of creatures are you?" The pale-faced steward asked.

Amora ripped off her gag and glared at them. "I am Amora the Enchantress and my Master is Skurge the Executioner. We do as we want, take what we will, and we do not suffer the innocent to die!"

The steward seemed taken aback. "But the king must have a guide to the Underworld! Our tradition has stood for-"

"I don't care how long it's stood for," Amora snapped. "It's wrong and it ends now!"

There was a murmur among the palace guard. Skurge drew his axe, raising it to emphasise Amora's words.

"You'll kill us all! Without his guide the king will stay and haunt us forever!"

Amora shook her head. "I don't know how educated you people are, but there is no such thing as ghosts. Understood?"

At that moment, all the lights in the hall flickered and went out. A huge, ghostly black shadow rose from the floor.

"What were you saying?" Skurge asked grimly.

Amora cursed fluently, backing away.

"I told you!" The steward wailed. "He has come back to kill us all!"

Ivan whimpered.

"That's not like any ghost I've heard of," Skurge muttered. "On Jotunheim-"

"It's not a ghost," Amora said, her face stark white. "It's a demon."

A chuckle came from the shadow. "My master is waiting for you, Atumdottir!"

Skurge gaped at Amora, stupefied. "I thought Atum was your uncle?"

Amora let flame engulf her hands. "Can we talk about this later?!"

The shadow laughed and lunged.

Amora- acting purely on instinct- conjured a shield made of fire. The demon was repelled by the flame.

Skurge gaped. "How did you..."

"I have no idea!"

"The king has come!" The steward screamed. "The king!"

"That's not your king, idiots!" Skurge yelled. "Get out of here while you still can!"

"Not their king?" The shadow grew huge. Amora tried to back away, to bring the others with her, but her legs were shaking. How long could she keep the shield in place? "Perhaps not. Perhaps their god."

Amora gritted her teeth- the exertion of maintaining the shield was making sweat roll down her face. "Demons are not gods!"

"I am your god," the shadow laughed. "I am a splinter of your uncle's soul. If he was here you'd be defeated already. Weak. But you may have some use..."

Amora's temper surged, giving her a new burst of strength. The heat and size of the shield increased, driving the creature back. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"Hmm... This shall be entertaining."

The shadow vanished.

Amora let the shield go and fell to her knees shakily. Skurge ran to her side.

"Are you alright?"

"Thin' so... jus' tired..." She was asleep before she'd finished speaking, slumping into Skurge's arms.

The steward stumbled forward. "Sacrifice for the king!"

Skurge kicked out at the steward, knocking him backwards. "I dare any of you to try it!"

"We'll all be killed if we don't!" One of the guards lunged for Ivan. He was promptly rewarded with a solid hunk of ice to the torso and crumpled. Ivan stared wide-eyed.

"You can't keep buying off this demon, it will only get stronger and demand more," Skurge said loudly. "We kill it."

"How?" One of the people in the crowd yelled. "How can we kill something like that?"

"I... We make a plan and we just do it!" Skurge replied.

Amora stirred at that moment. "Skurge?" She slurred softly, not fully awake. "Why are you shouting?"

He propped her up. "Are you alright?"

"Yes... I think so..." she bolted upright. "Where's the demon?"

"Gone, for now." Skurge reassured.

"It will return at nightfall. It always does!" The steward proclaimed. "and you'd have us fight it?!"

"Yes!" both Amora and Skurge shouted at once.

"It will kill us," Ivan whimpered.

Ignoring her tired state, Amora leaned forward, putting a hand on Ivan's shoulder in comfort. "No, it won't. I can protect you. I promise."

"Can you?" Ivan stared at her, hope in his teary eyes.

"You?" the steward scoffed. "Look how quickly you fell tonight!"

Amora's eyes flashed. "I was unprepared. I will best this thing!"

"How can you?" the steward demanded. "Our best scorcerors have died trying to defeat the king."

"Maybe because they thought it was a king and I know better!"

The steward went red. "You have no proof that it isn't the king!"

"You have no proof that it is the king!"

"Why else would it be here?"

"Demons go where they want!"

"I- I don't think it's Father." Ivan's voice quavered.

"Silence, boy!" The steward barked.

"No, you be silent!" Skurge threatened the steward with his axe. "We need to strategize here." He looked around. "Are any of you proficient in magic?" The more help we have, the better.

"All our magic users were killed!" The steward exclaimed angrily.

Amora's eyes widened. "How?" She gasped.

"The king killed them, weren't you listening?"

"She was unconscious," Skurge snapped.

Amora set her jaw. "Fine. I'll have to see if I can best this thing alone. Does it have any weaknesses you know of?"

The steward stared blankly.

"Fire," Skurge said. "If we can trap it in fire-"

"The king will destroy you!"

"SHUT UP!" Amora screamed.

The steward actually backed down, looking stunned. "No woman has the right to give a man orders!"

Skurge rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

"She is not your slave is she?"

"We both told you to shut up."

"But-"

"SHUT UP!" They yelled in unison.

The steward slunk off. Amora ignored him, getting to her feet. "So if we can have a circle of fire, that might help."

Skurge glanced at the surrounding guards. "Are you sure about this? We could just leave."

"No, I don't think we can."

"Why?"

Amora rolled her eyes. "Since when do things become easy for us to solve, Skurge?"

"I didn't mean all of us, I meant..."

"We can't leave these people to suffer."

"You're right," Skurge sighed. "I wish you weren't, but you are. Alright. Now. Circle of fire, will that keep it contained?"

"Maybe." Amora swallowed. "I don't know."

Skurge thought hard. "I know your people- the Aesir- use rune-spells. Do you know of any that might help against this creature?"

"It's worth a try. Ivan should be taken to the ship."

Skurge hesitated. "I don't know if I should leave you alone..."

"I'll be fine. Get the boy to safety, then come straight back if you must."

Ivan stood up. "I w-want to help."

"Can you use magic?"

Ivan shook his head. "I can only shapeshift."

Skurge looked thoughtful. "That might come in handy."

Ivan blinked; Amora looked equally puzzled. "H-how?" Ivan stammered. "It's n-not a useful p-power!"

"Distractions," Skurge replied. "Do you think you could make yourself look like Amora?"

"No," Amora said instantly. "He's just a boy, we're not putting him in that danger."

"I-I'll do it," Ivan tried to sound brave. "B-but how will that help?"

"Doesn't matter," Amora said tightly, glaring at Skurge. "Its too risky, and I won't let you take that chance!"

"I'm old enough to decide for myself," Ivan replied. He was shaking from head to toe. "I d-don't want my family to die... I volunteered to be the sacrifice. Mostly."

Skurge nodded, acknowledging the boy's courage. "Brave of you, but sacrificing yourself is not going to solve anything."

"And you're not old enough to decide to fight this demon, and you're not impersonating me!" Amora snapped.

Skurge hesitated. "We'll try to find another way."

"We will find another way!"

"Alright, alright!" Skurge held his hands up, not wanting to fight with Amora. "Do you have any ideas, then?"

Amora turned to the guards. "Tell me exactly what happens here every night."

The guards exchanged looks, and then one of them slowly began to speak. "It's always the same. The minute the sun sets, that... creature oozes out from the shadows and roams the land. No-one dares be outside during the night. Too many have vanished never to be seen again. When the sun rises, the demon screeches as if in agony, and fades away until the next night."

"There is no way to defeat it," the steward shouted from across the hall.

Amora rolled her eyes. "Seriously, can't we just get rid of that guy?"

"Don't tempt me." Skurge muttered. He turned to Ivan. "Who is he, anyway? He's not part of your family, is he?"

"He's the steward. He was charged with regency after my father and brothers died, until I was old enough."

Skurge nodded. "And let me guess- he was the one who proposed sacrificing you?"

"Well, y-yes, but he knows best..."

"I bet he also knows he'd be the sole ruler if you were gone!"

"No. My older sister's husband would be made king."

"And who is she married to?"

"She's not, yet."

"So who is she going to marry?"

Ivan shrugged.

"I think I'm starting to get the picture," Skurge glared at the steward. "Was he going to decide who she marries?"

"No," Ivan replied quickly. "She does."

"I imagine she'd listen to the steward, though." Amora input dryly.

"He knows best..."

"I bet he does." Amora threw a glare over her shoulder. "But enough about him. We need to get rid of this demon before we do anything else. We know it doesn't like fire or sunlight. Let me think about this."

If we knew how to contact Atum... Amora thought as she walked away, her head high and her strides long. But we don't. And so I have to do this myself. She began thinking of all the ways she'd read about to lure demons, hoping one method would prove useful in this situation.

The rest of the night passed quickly, Skurge gathering plenty of flammable materials in case they were needed, as well as secretly helping Ivan shift his appearance to match Amora's. He was certain that they would need a distraction when the time came...

When the sun set the following evening, Skurge made sure everyone was safely in their own homes, with strict instructions to stay inside, no matter what. Amora was waiting nearby, trying to look unafraid, waiting for the demon to show itself.

"You never did tell me what it meant when it called you Atumdottir," he murmured.

"I'm Freyjadottir," she replied, her eyes steely. "It was mistaken."

Skurge eyed her- he wasn't all sure he believed her, but right before a battle was not the time for a lengthy discussion. Almost as if on cue, the shadowy demon materialised a few yards ahead. Amora tensed.

"Now?"

"Wait..." Amora strode forward, as had been planned. She raised her hands and set them alight. "You are not welcome here, demon! Begone!"

"I am welcome nowhere I travel, why should I care about welcome here?"

"Leave, or be destroyed!"

It laughed. "By who, little girl? You? You have no real power..." It drifted closer, almost lazily.

"I have more power than you know!"

"Do you? I know you. You, the result of an incestuous liaison between the murderer and the whore. You, who have long lusted for your own brother and lured a man you did not love into giving you scant satisfaction. You, who have taken an unsuspecting man from his home to be your slave..."

Amora knew that it was trying to provoke a reaction from her, but was determined not to give it that satisfaction. She conjured the hottest flame she could without using all her power, and hurled it at the demon. It shrieked in agony. Belatedly, Amora realised that Skurge had heard all this, but there was no time to worry about it now.

The demon dove at her.

"Now!" she shouted, and in the next instant there were flames rising up around her at all sides. She closed her eyes, reaching out with both hands as she caught hold of the fires with her mind. A muttered word and they didn't give off heat, just brilliant light. The demon was shrieking. It shrank in size, and she began driving it to the cell block of the ship, using the fire to control where it went, hoping the runes she'd carved in the cells would be enough to hold it.

A long, slow chuckle filled the air behind her. She felt very, very cold and a chill ran down her arms. She turned slowly to see another shadow rising above her.

The fires maintained by her will flickered. Her heart rate increased, and she looked for Skurge. There was no sign of him. The shadows were enveloping her.

"Hello, Granddaughter," an all-too-familiar voice whispered in her ear. "My my, what a woman you've turned into. Your father must be very proud of you."

Amora panicked, forgetting the plan as she realised who the speaker was. Centuries-old terror of Chthon paralysed her. The flames flickered and died, overwhelmed by Chthon's darkness. Amora screamed, utterly blinded.

She felt a hand stroke her cheek, the same way it had when she had been fourteen years old. She shrunk back, raising her hands, trying to call back her fire.

"You've certainly grown into a beautiful woman."

"Did you know?" she blurted. "Did you mean for me to happen?"

"No..." Chthon chuckled. "Your conception was not my intent, but the universe works in mysterious ways. I am pleased to have found such a promising servant."

"I am not your servant!" Amora screamed.

"Not yet."

Amora managed a weak fire wreathing her hands. "Not ever!"

"We'll see how long your spirit holds when you're in my realm.." Chthon moved closer. Amora could feel hands grasping her arms. "Come along."

She tried to struggle, to pull away. "No!"

"You do look so much like your grandmother. I wonder if you resemble her in other ways?"

Amora felt sick, and then concentrating flared her fire as brightly as she could. It had no effect on Chthon, who merely laughed. "Such a strong will. Breaking you will be so enjoyable."

"Let me go!" She felt the same burn in the pit of her stomach as she had when she found out her heritage; when she had burned half a mile of forest simply because she couldn't control her flames. She didn't even try to suppress it, instead channelling it towards the shadow that held her fast.

The fire engulfed the shadow, and she dropped to the ground as Chthon lost his hold on her. She scrambled to her feet, tensing for another fight.

"Perhaps we should make this a game, then. I will come back here every night and kill one more person. If you can defeat me, I will go away and leave you alone. If you can't defeat me, then you will be mine. And I think it will be most beneficial to me to have a woman bearing so much of my own power also bearing my children." He laughed. "I don't need Gaea or Atum anymore if I've got you."

Amora felt paralysed with fear. She glanced around, as if she expected aid to come from elsewhere. She didn't know what to do!

"Or I could kill them all and take you right here. Your choice, little granddaughter. The game or not?"

Tears of frustration and fear rolled down her face. Someone help me, please...

"Game or no?" Chthon repeated, and Amora felt his cold fingers cup her face.

"How exactly am I supposed to defeat you when Atum hasn't been able to?"

Chthon chuckled. "I don't mean killing me, little one. Merely preventing me from killing anybody for one night. And then I will leave. On this, you have my bonded soul."

What other choice did she have? "Deal."

Chthon's evil laughter echoed around her. She knew she'd made a mistake...

"Let us begin, then. This should be most entertaining..."

The shadows surrounding her coalesced in form, revealing a giant shadow-formed monster. Skurge and the guards were standing as though frozen. Chthon laughed, and a shadow like a hand shot forward. It wrapped around the Steward. There was a sharp crack as his head was turned right around. Amora bit back a scream.

"You'll have to do better than that tomorrow, little one." Chthon purred, and the demonic shadow vanished.

She was utterly numb. She didn't even realise Skurge had joined her until he lifted her, bridal-style, into his arms. He was asking her something, but his words weren't registering.

The guards were inspecting the steward's dead body. They looked up with shocked expressions at Amora and Skurge.

"You said you could stop it."

"It wasn't what I thought it was." Amora replied weakly. And now I've had to agree to a 'game' I can't possibly win, and like as not, all these people will die because of me!

"Will it return tonight?" Skurge murmured.

Amora shook her head.

"Then we'll return to the ship. We need to talk - I mean plan. Plan for its next attack."

Amora nodded, her heart aching. She knew exactly what Skurge wanted to talk about- he'd heard what Chthon, or whatever the first demon had been, had said about her heritage. She was fretting over what to tell him the whole way back to the ship.

"You're very pale," Skurge murmured, tucking her into their shared bed. "I'll get you something to eat."

"I'm not sick," Amora protested.

"I know." He left anyway, and came back with some provisions, which he handed to her. "Now... You know what I heard. Do you want to talk about it?"

She shrugged. "If you want." No, not really.

"No, not if I want, Amora. If you want. If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. We both have things we're running from."

She snorted. "What skeletons do you have in your closet, exactly?"

"Maybe none as large as yours, but all I mean to say was that you don't have to tell me anything that you don't want to."

She wrapped her arms around her knees. "I keep thinking I should tell you, it's only fair that you know this, but... I don't like admitting it."

"What?"

"The story behind my conception."

"Whatever your parents did isn't your fault-"

"I know. And... you heard what he said, about me being the result of incest..."

Skurge nodded.

"They didn't want to."

Skurge nodded again. His mind whirled with questions, but they could wait. Amora needed his acceptance, not an inquisition. "So do you have any ideas for tomorrow night?"

Amora groaned. "No!"

Skurge thought for a moment. "You haven't had any sleep for two days."

"I can't sleep."

"You won't be able to think clearly-"

"I can't sleep. It's not going to be physically possible."

"Then I'll prepare something to make you sleep. We can figure out what to do later."

"I don't want to be drugged!"

"How do you plan to fight if you're sleepwalking?"

Amora buried her face in her hands.

"You need sleep. And I'll stay with you. I promise."

She lay down resignedly, clinging to Skurge's hand.

He kissed her hair and then gently extricated himself and went to the galley, returning moments later with a warm drink. She gulped it down, feeling relaxed almost instantly. Skurge lay down with her, wrapping an arm around her waist until she fell asleep. As soon as he was certain that she was sleeping, he went to the cockpit and started the engines. That demon hadn't counted on one thing when he made his deal with Amora; Skurge could hear, and he wasn't going to let that thing hurt her!

He knew she'd be furious with him when she woke up, and he did feel awful about the people on this world, but he couldn't lose Amora, not now, not ever. "This is for the best." He murmured to himself as the ship departed the haunted world.