“What about me?” she asked. “What if I should die in their stead? Is it possible? Can they both live, and I will die?”
Argon stared at her for a very long time, as if taking in her very essence.
“Your heart is pure,” he said. “You are the most pure-hearted of all the MacGils. Your father chose wisely. Yes, he did…”
Argon’s voice trailed off as he continued to look into her eyes. Gwen felt uncomfortable, but did not dare look away.
“Because of your choice, because of your sacrifice on this night,” Argon said, “the fates have heard you. Thor will be saved on this night. And so will your brother. You will live, too. But a small piece of your life must be taken. Remember, there is always a price. You will die a partial death in return for both of their lives.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, terror-stricken.
“Everything comes with a price,” he answered. “You have a choice. Would you rather not pay it?”
Gwen steeled herself.
“I will do anything for Thor,” she said. “And for my family.”
Argon stared right through her.
“Thor has a very great destiny,” Argon said. “But destiny can change. Our fate is in our stars. But it is also controlled by God. God can change fate. Thor was meant to die on this night. He will live only because of you. You will pay that price. And the cost will be high.”
Gwen wanted to know more, and she reached out to Argon, but as she did, suddenly, a bright light flashed before her, and Argon disappeared.
Gwen spun, looking for him in every direction, but he was nowhere to be found.
She finally turned and looked out at the lake, so serene, as if nothing had happened here on this night. She saw her reflection, and she looked so far away. She was filled with gratitude, and finally, with a sense of peace. But she couldn’t help but also feel a sense of dread for her own future. As much as she tried to put it out of her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder: what price would she pay for Thor’s life?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thor lay on the ground in the midst of the battlefield, pinned down by McCloud soldiers, helpless, hearing the clash of battle, the screams of horses, of men dying all around him. The setting sun and the rising moon—a full moon, fuller than any he had ever seen—was suddenly blocked by a huge soldier, who stepped forward, raised his trident and prepared to bring it down. Thor knew that his time had come.
Thor closed his eyes, preparing for death. He did not feel fear. Only remorse. He wanted more time to be alive; he wanted to discover who he was, what his destiny was, and most of all, he wanted more time with Gwen.
Thor felt that it wasn’t fair for him to die like this. Not here. Not this way. Not on this day. It wasn’t his time yet. He could feel it. He was not ready yet.
Thor suddenly felt something rising up within him: it was a fierceness, a strength unlike any he had ever known. His entire body grow hot and tingly, as he felt a new sensation shoot through him, from the soles of his feet, through his legs, up his torso, through his arms, until his fingertips were positively burning, sparking with an energy he could barely understand. Thor shocked himself by letting out a fierce roar, like a dragon rising from the depths of the earth.
Thor felt the strength of ten men course through him as he broke off the soldiers’ grips and leapt to his feet. Before the soldier could bring the trident down, Thor stepped forward, grabbed him by his helmet and head butted him, cracking his nose in two; he then kicked him so hard he went flying backwards like a cannonball, knocking down ten men with him.
Thor shrieked with a newfound rage as he grabbed a soldier, raised him high overhead and threw him into the crowd, taking down a dozen soldiers like bowling pins. Thor then reached out and snatched a flail with a ten foot chain from a soldier’s hands, and swung it overhead, again and again, until screams rose up all around him, taking down all the soldiers within a ten foot radius, dozens of them.