Infinity Blade 01- Awakening

for anyone looking for him. He didn’t want them tracking him to Drem’s Maw; he needed, instead, to lead them another direction.
    He started the hike down to the castle. The other Deathless, he thought. Maybe I could . . . buy them off.
    He looked down at the sword he wore in an improvised sheath at his side. They wanted the God King’s weapon; perhaps he should just give it to them.
    No, he thought. They’ll still execute me for killing their king. A mortal did not slay a god.
    He continued down the pathway toward the God King’s palace. It stood to reason that they’d begin looking for him here; if there were daerils still in this place, he could make a big show for them of going somewhere other than Drem’s Maw. That might work, might give his mother some protection.
    The rocky path was slippery with pebbles and shale. He remembered walking this long route just over a week before, each footstep electric. He’d been marching to his death. That doom was one he’d come to grips with, however, and he had even been excited by the challenge ahead of him.
    This time, he walked with a slower step. He felt . . . older now. Ancient.
    At the base of the cliff, he put on his armor. He continued forward, reaching a tree hung with ropes just outside the palace walls.
    He stopped and inspected the tree. A rope could be a weapon, if you really needed one. Tie a heavy bit of metal to one end, then swing it about and attack. He’d practiced that.
    The children of Drem’s Maw had done something different with ropes. They’d created swings on the trees outside of the maw. Siris had once stood on one of those, then had several boys push, so he could practice keeping his balance on unsteady footing.
    He’d never just sat down and swung. What is wrong with me, he thought, continuing forward with clanking steps. Why didn’t I ever try it, even once?
    He reached the side gate to the castle, and a daeril stepped out. Long of limb, with red-orange skin and a skeletal cast to the arms and legs, the daeril had a horrifically twisted face.
    Siris raised his sword with a sigh. He’d have to fight his way in again, it appeared.
    “Great master!” the daeril exclaimed. It jumped forward, and Siris stumbled back, wary. The creature didn’t attack, but threw itself at Siris’s feet. “Great master, you have returned!”
    “I . . . State your purpose, daeril!”
    “We live to serve you, master. I am Strix, and I obey. The castle is yours, now! The kingdom as well.”
    The kingdom . . . mine? He almost laughed. He’d never be able to stand against the forces of the other gods, even if this creature were telling the truth. Which he found suspect.
    “What am I supposed to do with a kingdom?” Siris said, walking around the daeril—keeping an eye on it—and crossing the bridge to enter the palace’s outer court. The court seemed strikingly familiar to him, though he’d only passed this way that one time.
    “Great master—” Strix began.
    “Don’t call me that,” Siris said.
    “Greatest lord of all that is powerful and—”
    “That’s really not any better.”
    The daeril fell silent. “My lord . . .” the daeril began again, stepping up to him. “Please. Let us serve you. Remain here and rule us. Do not leave us again.”
    Siris hesitated. “How many of you are there in this place, still?”
    “Perhaps two dozen, master.”
    “And you will all serve me?”
    “Yes, great master. Yes indeed! You have slain our ruler, and in so doing have become our leader.”
    “Who led you before I returned?”
    “Kuuth, master,” Strix said. “He is ancient and wise, a troll nearly forty years old.”
    “Send for him,” Siris said. “And gather the other daerils. Every one of them in the castle. Bring them to the throne room.”
    He didn’t trust these creatures, not for a moment. But perhaps he could use them.
    Finish what you began .
    Siris sat on the God King’s throne. What had his mother meant by that? Surely she hadn’t meant to imply that he should take the God King’s place. That would be suicide.
    The God King’s throne wasn’t very comfortable—though Siris was wearing armor, which never made sitting particularly comfortable. He’d removed his helm and set his shield to the side, though he kept the Infinity Blade close.
    Seeing his face unnerved the daerils. That seemed a good enough reason to him to keep the helmet off, for now. He inspected the Infinity Blade as he waited. The blade