Volusia stopped before it, taking in the sight: lining the bridge was a series of pikes, all pierced with the freshly decapitated heads of men, fresh blood dripping down. But what really surprised her was what she saw above it: high above was a golden railing, and from it there dangled the torsos of soldiers, their legs torn off. It was a gruesome sight, and an ominous way to herald the city. It made no sense, as these soldiers all appeared to be the touched prince's men.

"He us rumored to kill his own men," Soku stepped forward and whispered into Volusia's ear, he too gaping up at the sight. "The more loyal they are, the more likely to be killed."

"Why?" she asked.

Soku shrugged.

"No one knows," he replied. "Some say for fun; others say boredom. Never try to a.n.a.lyze the ways of a madman."

"Yet if he is so mad," she countered, "how does he run such a great city? How does he hang onto it?"

"With an army he inherited, vaster than ours will ever be."

"It is said they all tried to revolt when he took power," Koolian said, coming up to her other side. "They thought it would be easy. But he surprised them all. He killed the rebels in the most gruesome ways, starting with their families first. He turned out to be more vicious and unpredictable than the world could have known."

"I urge you again, my lady," Soku said. "Let us stay clear of this place. Let us find an army somewhere else. The touched prince will not lend you his armies. You have nothing he wants, nothing you can give him. Why would he entertain it?"

Volusia turned to him, her gaze cold and hard.

"Because I am Volusia," she said, her voice ringing with authority, with destiny. "I am the G.o.ddess Volusia, born of fire and flame, of wind and water. I will crush nations beneath my feet, and nothing of this world, no army, no prince, shall stop me."

Volusia turned back to the bridge and led the way, her men hurrying to follow, until she reached the base and was blocked by a dozen soldiers lowering their halberds, blocking her way.

"State your purpose here," one said, his face obscured behind his helmet.

"You shall address her as Empress," Aksan said, stepping forward, indignant. "You speak to the great Empress and G.o.ddess of Volusia. Queen of Volusia. Queen of the great city by the sea, and Queen of all provinces of the Empire."

"We let no one pa.s.s without the Prince's permission," the soldier replied.

Volusia stepped forward, raised her hand to the tip of the sharp halberd, and slowly lowered it.

"I have an offer for your Prince," she said softly. "One he cannot refuse. You will let us through because your Prince will kill you if he found you turned us away."

The soldiers, unsure, lowered their halberds and looked to each other, puzzled. One nodded, and they all slowly stood erect, making way for her to pa.s.s.

"We can bring you to our Prince," the soldier said. "But if he does not like your pet.i.tion, well...you can see his handiwork," he said, looking up.

Volusia followed his glance and looked up at all the mutilated bodies adorning the bridge.

"Is it a chance you're willing to take?" the soldier asked.

"My Empress, let us leave this place," Soku said urgently in her ear. "Some gates are best left closed."

Volusia shook her head and took the first step forward. She looked out, beyond the soldiers, at the daunting gates, two huge iron doors, each adorned with a grotesque iron sculpture, upside down, one screaming and the other laughing. Those iron sculptures alone, Volusia thought, would be enough to turn away any person in their right mind.

She looked the soldier right in the eye, resolved.

"Bring me to your ruler," she commanded.

Volusia walked through the soaring gates of the mad city, taking it all in in wonder. A drop hit her shoulder, and thinking it was rain, she looked down at her golden sleeve, and was puzzled to see it stained scarlet. She looked up and saw a series of ropes crossing the city walls, from which were hanging a collection of limbs-a leg here, an arm there-all hanging like wind chimes, dripping blood. They swayed in the wind, the weathered rope creaking.

Some ropes hung lower and some higher, and as Volusia and her men pa.s.sed through the gates, she had to brush up against them, swinging against her.

Volusia admired the Prince's barbarism. And yet, she wondered at the extent of his madness. His cruelty did not scare her-but the haphazardness of it did. She loved being vicious and cruel herself, yet she always did it within a rational context. But this...she just could not understand his way of thinking.

They pa.s.sed through the gates and entered a vast city courtyard, the ground made of cobblestone, the city boxed in by the towering city walls. Hundreds of troops filled the square, their armor clanging, their spurs echoing, as they marched about. Otherwise, the city was oddly silent in the morning air.

As they slowly crossed the square, Volusia felt as if she were being watched; she looked up, and all along the city walls she saw people, citizens, their faces etched with panic and concern, leaning out of small windows and staring down, wide-eyed. Many wore grotesque expressions, some of them smacking their own heads, others swaying, others rocking and banging their heads into the walls. Some moaned, others laughed, and others, still, wept.

As she watched, Volusia saw one young woman lean so far out a window, she fell flying forward, face-first, shrieking. She landed on the stone with a splat, greeting her death fifty feet below.

"The first thing the touched Prince did when he inherited his daddy's throne," Koolian whispered to Volusia, walking beside her, "was to open the gates to all the asylums. He let all the madcaps have free rein in the city. It is said it pleases the Prince to see them on his morning stroll, and to hear their cries late into the night."

Volusia heard the strange moaning and crying and screaming and laughing, echoing off the walls, bouncing off of the square, and she had to admit that even she, undaunted by anything, found it unsettling. She was beginning to sense a feeling of dread. When dealing with a madman, all bets were off. She did not know what to expect in this place, and she had an increasing sense of foreboding that it would not be good. Perhaps, for the first time in her life, she would be in over her head.

Still, Volusia urged herself to be strong. She was a G.o.ddess, after all, and a G.o.ddess could not be harmed.

Volusia could feel the tension thick in the air as they were marched across the square, and finally, to a soaring golden door. Knockers as big as she were yanked slowly by a dozen soldiers, the immense doors creaking. A cold draft came out and hit her from the blackness.

Volusia was led into the castle, and as she entered this dim place, lit only by sporadic torches, she heard laughter and heckling bouncing off the walls. As her eyes adjusted, she saw dozens of madcaps, dressed in rags, pacing along the floor, some following them, others shouting at them, and one crawling alongside them. It was like entering an asylum. The soldiers kept them at a safe distance, yet still, their presence was unnerving.

She and her entourage followed them all down an endless corridor, and finally into a ma.s.sive entry hall.

There, before them, Volusia was shocked to see, was the touched Prince. He did not sit on his throne, like a normal ruler, or come out to greet them; indeed, his throne, Volusia was surprised to see, was turned upside down-and the Prince, instead of sitting, stood on it, arms out wide at his sides. Barefoot, he wore nothing but shorts and the crown on his head, mostly naked despite the cold day. He also was covered in filth.

As they entered and he spotted them, he suddenly jumped down.

They all approached, Volusia feeling her heart pounding in antic.i.p.ation; but instead of coming out to greet them, the Prince instead turned and ran to one of the walls. He ran alongside the ancient stone wall, adorned with the most beautiful stained gla.s.s, holding out his palms and running them alongside it. As Volusia watched the precious limestone walls turn red, she realized the Prince's hands were covered in paint. Red paint. He ran back and forth along the walls and smeared this paint along the precious stone, along the stained gla.s.s, ruining them; he smeared banners and heralds and trophies, all, no doubt, of his ancestors. And no one dared stop him.

The Prince laughed and laughed as he did so.

Volusia glanced at her men, who all looked back with equal apprehension.

It all might have been amusing, had not the chamber been filled with hundreds of deadly soldiers, all standing at attention, perfectly lined up along the center of the hall, surrounding the throne, all clearly awaiting the Prince's command.

Volusia and her men were led down the hall, right up to the Prince's throne, and she stood there, waiting, facing the empty throne turned upside down, watching the Prince run about the room.

Volusia stood there for she did not know how long, growing impatient, until finally the Prince broke free of what he was doing, ran across the room, the jewels on his crown jiggling as he went, raced to his upside-down throne, and jumped on the back of it. He slid down it like a little boy, landed on his feet, laughed and clapped hysterically, and then ran back up and did it again and again.

Finally, on the fifth slide, he landed on his feet and ran toward Volusia and her group at full speed. He stopped abruptly a foot before her, and all of Volusia's men flinched.

But not Volusia. She stood there, resolute, staring back at him, calm, expressionless, as she watched a rainbow of emotions pa.s.s over his face. She watched him go from happy to furious to neutral, to happy again, to confused, all in the span of a few seconds, as he examined her. He did not really make eye contact, but rather had a distant gaze to his eyes.

As Volusia summed him up, she realized that he was not unattractive, an eighteen-year-old man, well-built, with fine features. The madness on his face, though, made him seem older than he was. And of course, he needed a bath.

"Have you come to help me paint?" he asked her.

She stared back, expressionless, debating how to reply.

"I have come for an audience," she said.

"To help me paint," he said again. "I paint alone. You understand?"

"I've come..." Volusia took a deep breath, measuring her words carefully. "I've come to ask for troops. Romulus is dead. The great Empire leader is no more. You rule the eastern lands, and I, the sh.o.r.es of the east. With your men, I can defeat the capital, before they invade both our lands."

"Both?" the Prince asked. "Why? It is you they are after. I am safe here. I have always been safe here. My parents were safe here. My fish are safe here."

Volusia was surprised by how astute he was; yet he also was mad, and she could not tell how much of him to take seriously. It was a confusing experience.

"Troops are but troops," he added. "They fill the skies. You want to use them. They may use you. I myself don't care for them. I have no need for them."

Volusia's eyes widened with hope, as she struggled to understand his erratic speech.

"We may use your men then?" Volusia asked, amazed.

The Prince threw back his head and laughed hysterically.

"Of course you may not," he said. "Well, maybe. But the problem is, I have a rule. Whenever someone makes a request to me, I must kill them first. Then, sometimes, after they are dead, I grant it."

He stared at her, sneered viciously, then just as quickly smiled, showing his teeth.

"I cannot be killed," Volusia replied, her voice cold as steel, trying to project authority although she was feeling increasingly off guard. "It is the great Volusia you address, the greatest G.o.ddess of the east. I have tens of thousands of men who will die at my whims, and it is my destiny to rule the Empire. You can either loan me your men and rule it with me, or you-"

Before she could finish, the Prince held up a palm. He stood there looking up, as if listening-and the silence was shattered by the distant tolling of bells.

Suddenly, he turned and sprinted from the chamber.

"My babies are waking!" he said, as he ran from the hall. "Time to feed them!"

He clapped hysterically as he disappeared from the hall.

Volusia and her men were directed to follow, as all his soldiers fell in line, beginning to march after him. Volusia wondered where on earth he could be leading them.

Volusia found herself led back outside the castle, through soaring gates, and to another arched bridge, leading over the moat at the rear of the castle. They all hurried after the Prince as he stood there alone in the center of the bridge, nearly naked despite the cold, and reached out and held onto a long pole, struggling.

Volusia looked out over the bridge and saw that at the end of the long pole was a rope hanging down; at first she thought he was fishing, but then she looked closely and saw that at the end of it there was a man, with a noose around his neck, dangling in the waters of the moat. Volusia watched in horror as the Prince grasped the pole with both hands, holding on furiously with all his might, his muscles straining.

She heard shrieking, and she looked down and saw that in the moat was a group of crocodiles, biting the man's legs and ripping them off.

The Prince yanked the torso, legs chewed off, up out of the water, the victim's shrieks filling the air. He plopped him down on the bridge, thrashing, still alive.

Several soldiers rushed forward and grabbed the pole and raised the half-eaten man high up in the air, placing him on a hook on the ropes crossing the bridge. The body hung there, the man now moaning, dripping blood and water onto the bridge.

The Prince clapped furiously. He turned and hurried over to Volusia.

"I love to fish," he said to Volusia as he approached. "Don't you?"

Volusia looked up at the body, and the sight, even for her, was too much. She was aghast. She knew that if she were to survive this place, she had to take action, to do something quickly, definitively. She knew she had to relate to him on his own terms, to act crazier than he. To shock him out of his madness.

She suddenly stepped forward and reached up and s.n.a.t.c.hed the crown from the Prince's head. She placed it on her own head and stood there, facing him.

All of his soldiers rushed forward, drawing their weapons-and the Prince himself finally seemed to snap out of it. Finally, she had his attention as he stood facing her.

"That's my crown," he said.

"I shall give it back to you," she said, "once you fulfill my request."

"I told you, anyone who makes a request is killed."

"You can kill me," she said. "But first, grant me my one request before my death."

He stared at her, his eyes darting back and forth, as if contemplating.

"What is that?" he asked. "What is it you want me to do?"

"I want to give you a gift greater than anyone's ever given you," she said.

"Gift? I have the greatest gifts of the empire. Entire armies given to me. What can you give me that I do not already have?"

She looked to him, laying the full beauty of her gorgeous eyes right on his, and she said: "Me."

He looked back at her, confused.

"Sleep with me," she said. "Tonight. That is all I ask. In the morning, you can kill me. And you have granted me my request."

He turned and looked her for a long while in the heavy silence, Volusia's heart pounding as she hoped he went for it.

Finally, he smiled.

She knew that her powers were greater than any man could resist-not even a touched prince could turn them down. She stepped forward, held his face in her palms, leaned in, and kissed him.

He kissed her back lightly with trembling lips.

"Your request," he said, "is granted."

CHAPTER THIRTY.

Thor followed King MacGil as he emerged from the blackest of black caves into a soaring underground cave, its ceilings a hundred feet high, more brightly lit than any other place he'd seen down here. Thor stopped short, as did all the others, in awe at the sight before them. This cavern was lit by ma.s.sive fires, bubbling lava pits interspersed throughout, and was perhaps a hundred yards in diameter. In its center sat one singular object: an immense black throne made of sparkling granite, one solid piece within the bedrock itself, emerging like a tumor from the ground. Rising thirty feet high and wide enough to hold ten men, its arms ended in huge gargoyles, with sparkling black diamonds for eyes. All around it, bubbling lava pits cast a sinister glow upon it.

But that was not what shocked Thor most. What left him speechless was what occupied the throne: an immense creature, nearly the height of its throne, as wide as three men, with glowing red skin and bulging muscles. Its torso was that of a man's, yet its legs were covered in thick black hair, hanging down low to the floor of the cave. In place of feet, it had hooves. Its face looked almost human, yet it was huge, grotesque, monstrous, its proportions too big, with a jaw wider than Thor had ever seen, narrow yellow eyes and long, black horns which twisted out in circles on either side of its head. The head itself was stark bald, its ears pointy, its eyes glowing. It snarled as it breathed, steam rising all around it, a dark red halo hanging above it, flames shooting out in all directions from behind the throne. On its head sat a shining black crown, made entirely of black diamonds, with a huge black diamond in the center, encased in gold. Like a beast emerging from the bowels of the earth itself, it sat there, steaming, glowing red, exuding rage and death.