"Thought comes before memory. But memory recalls the path." The raven spoke as he and his twin sat atop the towering wardstone that powered the magical wards protecting Solomon Island. Runes were carved into the stone, and I recognized them as being from the Younger Futhark runic alphabet from my crash course in basic magical theory. However, it was the birds that had my attention.

Somehow, the fact that I was staring down a talking bird still managed to somewhat surprise me after all I had seen the past day or two, or maybe I was curious about the fact that he could speak a human language, yet had no lips or teeth to enunciate words with. Then again, they were probably magic ravens or something.

"So who are you guys?" Priscilla asked, and the two ravens made eye contact before the one that had spoken earlier replied.

"I'm thought, he's memory. You can have that one for free."

"We laid our blades up on this far shore, exhausted, only to lift them against worshippers of a dark sun. We carved this story in stone. Here, it waits still to be read." Memory said as he tapped the stone monolith he was perched on with the tip of his beak.

"Memory is a servant of those who prove worthy of thought. Hint-hint."

"From our frozen birthland, we crossed a white-capped sea to green isles of endless rain. This, too, we carved in stone."

"So… if we answer your questions, you'll tell us what you know about the past?" Priscilla asked, and both birdies nodded.

"We'll even lead you to the other two wardstones. One riddle for each piece of lore. How's that sound?"

Priscilla and I glanced at one another. Old Joe only knew the location of one of the wardstones — the rest were lost to history. If these guys knew where they were… "Alright, you have a deal. But first…"

As I said this, I placed my hands on the monolith and closed my eyes to concentrate. As I pushed my anima into the rock, I could feel my magic circuits become part of a larger whole. It's kinda hard to describe, but it felt as if your hands are magnets glued to the rock, jolts of hot electricity like sizzling drops of oil landing on your skin from a pan making your bones tingle.

Then the moment ended, and as I removed my hands from the monolith and opened my eyes, I saw that the runes on the wardstone were glowing blue.

My hand then immediately went for my sidearm as I heard the growling and snarling of approaching Frankies, and as the group charged at us out on the open field like Call of Duty noobs, Priscilla caught them in a blast of buckshot from her shotgun. The few survivors still moaning and groaning on the ground were then put down with bullets to their brains.

Then turning back to the ravens still perched atop the wardstone, Priscilla asked. "Okay. What's your riddle?"

It was Thought who spoke up as he gazed at us with dark eyes like the void of space. "A wise man once asked of a king: 'Who is the great one who grasps the earth, swallowing wood and water? Bad weather he dreads, wind, but no man, and picks a fight with the sun.' "

Priscilla pursed her lips in thought, and I too considered the question. A great one who grasps the earth, and swallows wood and water… It fears bad weather, but not people, and opposes the sun… "Fog. The answer is fog."

Thought nodded and Memory spoke, gazing off into the distance. "We carried a sword out from the lands of rain, and gave thanks to the gods. All must pass before the gods. In our longships, we sighted where the dawn-people and sun-worshippers warred. We joined them, a hail of arrows sent before us to mark the path."

"The same wise man asked the king: 'What beast is that which defends fighters; it bears a bloody back, but men it saves, meets spears, gives life to some, and lays itself inside a soldier's palm'?"

"Hmm… Let me think…" I began as I began to think aloud. "It defends, it saves lives, and is something a soldier would carry… A shield."

"Correct." Thought said as both he and Memory spread their black wings. "Follow us."

As they took flight, Priscilla and I began running after them. Our path had us follow roads, zip past trees, and dodging the hungry gaze of the various monsters roaming the island. By the time Thought and Memory had perched themselves onto the second wardstone, even Priscilla was out of breath.

Despite my fatigue, I summoned the will to take the final few steps towards the wardstone. Placing my hands on the stone, I could feel the warmth absorbed from the sunlight as I poured my anima into it. The wardstones reminded of Mom: very difficult to wake up, and even when awake, required large amounts of fuel to even function properly.

Finally, the wardstone pulsed with life as its runes glowed blue, and I was forced to use it as support for my weakened body. It seemed days of heavy anima usage were finally starting to catch up to me. Unslinging my rifle, I braced its stock against my shoulder and looked down its length as more Frankies came barreling towards us from within the woods.

Raising my rifle, I squeezed the trigger, and the first Frankie came tumbling onto the ground with a hole in the middle of its forehead, causing a few other zombies to trip over its dead body.

However, more were coming, and as I pulled the bolt of my rifle back to load a new round into the chamber, I muttered to myself as Priscilla's shotgun made its retort to the Frankies' argument that she'd make a delicious rare steak. "Jeez, you'd think the island would've run out of zombies to throw at us by now…"

Another zombie went down, and two more took its place. It was like fighting a hydra, and the only reason I hadn't died yet was because Priscilla was keeping the Frankies at bay with her Benelli. With me picking off the stragglers and potential reinforcements so that she wouldn't have to worry about getting blindsided, we soon had the entirety of the small Frankie horde neutralized.

The fighting didn't seemed to have fazed the two ravens. In fact, Memory was preening his wing feathers as Thought spoke. "Wise man, king, you know the drill: 'The mind-whacker, the word-thwarter, the word-upraiser.' "

"Oh, I know this one from personal experience: alcohol." Priscilla answered, and Thought turned his head towards Memory, tilting it in consideration. After a moment of silence, turned around to face us again. He then gave us what I think was the avian equivalent of a person shrugging their shoulders.

"Close enough. The real answer was ale."

Now it was Memory's turn to speak. "They did not know Loki walked among them, as he walks today. He fought at their side, but he is a trickster. Guided only by rivalry with his brother. Let the thunder god also guide you. The game was done, this battle won. They had earned the wealth which was their reward, and only one place remained for them to go."

"The wise man asked: 'Four hang, four sprang, two point the way, two ward off dogs, one dangles after and it is always rather dirty.' "

"Hold on, I think I read the answer to this one somewhere. Let me remember…" Priscilla said. "The answer is a cow, right? Four hanging from an udder, four legs, two eyes, two horns, and a tail."

"Correct." Thought said as he and Memory spread their wings again. As they took flight once more, we followed. They were going slower this time, occasionally stopping to land on a tree branch or some other perch while they waited for us to catch up.

Finally, we came across the wardstone, but there was bad news to go along with it, in the form of a Big Bad Wolf standing guard. Luckily we were downwind of the hound, so it couldn't smell us as we hid behind some old trees. Bringing out my rifle again, I stared down its length at the eye of the hound. "I'm gonna try and take out its eye, but get ready if things go south."

Priscilla nodded as she readied her shotgun, and I turned my attention back to the Big Bad Wolf. Taking a breath, I moved my finger to the trigger and pulled. I then swore silently as the bullet just grazed the hound's head, and snapping its head towards us, it growled as it strode menacingly towards our position.

As I reached for my lighter, Priscilla opened fire with her shotgun, and my flames joined her buckshot in attacking the Big Bad Wolf to try and stop it before it could attack. However, the black hound simply shrugged off our attacks, and as it lunged towards us, Thought and Memory squawked indignantly as they flew away to safety.

As the Big Bad Wolf turned on Priscilla, I began charging up my anima for an all-out attack. If I couldn't kill the mutt with a thousand cuts, then my only option was to finish it in one powerful blow. I just hoped Priscilla lasted long enough for me to make my move. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, my available power finally reached its zenith, and I let loose an inferno from my lighter.

The Big Bad Wolf howled in pain as its spiny back was set alight, and I saw a brief flash of steel, followed by blood as Priscilla stabbed the hound several times in its face, blood pouring down the blued steel of her combat knife to cake on her hands as she struck every blow with all of her monstrous might. Finally, Priscilla tossed aside the dog on top of her like a blanket in the morning, huffing and puffing as she got up onto her feet.

As we made our way to the two ravens still sitting on the wardstone, Thought asked, "Have you guessed yet?"

"Guessed what?" Priscilla asked, a little annoyed. I suppose having near-death experience can make even the best of us a little cranky.

"Who the wise man was?"

"No."

"The wise man was the All-Father, the Wednesday man. The raven-god. In his honey dreaming, we shall carry him these new thoughts, these new memories." Thought explained, and suddenly, something clicked within my mind.

"Wait… You guys are Huginn and Muninn, right? The two ravens who brought news to Odin in Norse mythology?"

Both Thought, now known to me as Huginn, and Memory, aka Muninn, nodded their heads, and then Muninn spoke. "In time, they made to return to the lands of snow. Only to be taken by the sea where the Draugr drown. This, Loki knew, so he did not sail. South, he went, to find the secrets of the dark sun. Farewell, young bees."

With that, Huginn and Muninn spread their wings and flew away, and as Priscilla and I watched them go, a horrifying thought occurred to me. I remember what Beaumont said about him being cast out, about him being famous for his cons, and those little tidbits came together to form one very unsettling picture. "Priscilla… I think we're going up against a god…"

Vikings warring with Mayans warring with Wabanaki. We are in the habit of blaming the Illuminati for all the miseries of Solomon Island — we do so especially in the middle of Council meetings. Of course, the island was a mess long before they got there.

This information sheds light on the history of the artifact we are pursuing. It has long been our version of events that Excalibur was plundered from our isles. In fact, that may not be quite right. The Vikings did not merely stumble upon and steal it. They were led to it by forces that understood how essential the sword was to winning the war against darkness all those years ago.

I dare say it may be equally essential now, and if those forces have any sense in them, they will lead us to it just as they led the Norsemen all those years ago.

R. Sonnac