From Ashes and Dust (Book One)

Chapter 20.2

They walked through the city side by side. Once a grand and evidently bustling place was now ghostly quiet. The roads and alleys between the towering buildings were all divided by streets made of the natural, yellow dirt. It was packed down well, trodden by feet and whatever transportation the inhabitants used to move about.

Casting a look around, Vatra didn't notice any vehicles or ships. Did these people seriously walk everywhere? she thought. Maybe they wouldn't have any luck with finding a ship, after all.

The main path ahead of them ended at a fork, and both of them made an unspoken decision to turn left. Drifting her attention from scanning the buildings around her, Vatra noticed the blur of mottled fur dart around a corner ahead of them.

"Ah, shit," Vatra mumbled. "Garmr's toying with us."

"Which means Hel is not far," Spyro said. "She will certainly try to take us on before allowing her beast to kill us. Assuming she remembers us, that is."

"You really gathered that much about her from our last meeting, huh?" Vatra asked.

"I lived after you were killed by Ares, do you not remember? Hel did have much to say once you died," Spyro added. "I am surprised she did not try to rip me apart as well."

"Yeah, it's a real shame they only find joy in killing me." Vatra flipped her blades around in her hands, ready for a fight. "Your luck in surviving without me is remarkable."

"Luck?" Spyro inquired, a tone of offense in his voice.

Vatra stopped, a laugh catching in her throat. She was caught off guard by Spyro's reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were such a badass. Your spiritual conjuring can be terrifying, sure, but it's not like you have control over it. I would call it luck that you ever get angry enough to use the ability."

A small frown tugged at Spyro's lips. "And you spent many years training with the experts in all manner of fighting. Yet you die so frequently?"

"Damn, Spy," Vatra paused and clutched a hand to her chest, "have I taught you too well?"

Metal tapping on metal drew their attention away from their conversation. Vatra allowed her hand to fall back to her side, and squared her stance. All sense of humor washed away like a bucket of water had doused it from her. She only felt a rage curl her fingers around her godkillers.

"Nice to see you again," Hel said. She slipped around the corner of an alley, dangling her own godkiller in her right hand. The tip of the sword tapped against the scaled exterior of the building she leaned against.

Vatra grimaced at the sound that emitted from the godkiller scraping across the building. "You're still at it, huh? You could have started over out in these new worlds, you know," Vatra announced. Her voice projected with a confidence that grounded her in place.

"Nah, not me," Hel said with a grin. She dragged a fingernail across one of the wolves carved into her breastplate.

"You got the beast, right?" Vatra whispered over her shoulder. She didn't allow her attention to leave the goddess slowly approaching them from the front.

"Leave Garmr to me. I will take my luck and dispatch the creature for good," Spyro replied.

For a moment, Vatra felt the air around Spyro physically change. The sensation was difficult to describe. It was almost like a charge of electricity and the icy breeze of a snowstorm all spun into one, brief moment. Vatra dared to cut a look at her companion, and she couldn't help but feel a grip of fear in the depths of her chest.

A sense of dread tickled the back of Vatra's neck. Spyro drew his gaze over Vatra as he turned and ran off down the road. The last time she'd seen his expression change in such a way had been centuries ago, when she'd been murdered as a suspected witch.