Now comes the final reckoning. Now come the folk of Netherworld. Now comes the dragon of darkness, Death
As for the rest of my demon fleet, these were not ships, precisely. Instead they were vessels for my army, a motley assemblage of half bloods, renegade demons, the undead, and assorted ephemeral creatures, all summoned by Heidi through Dream and sworn to my allegiance. The creatures called me General and worshipped me in their slavish way, as I cavorted with Heidi, eating venison, drinking mead, and looking forward to Ragnarók and the End of Everything.
Now comes the final reckoning.
Now come the folk of Netherworld.
Now comes the dragon of darkness, Death
This was the only part of the deal that caused me any anxiety. The Dragon of Darkness—aka Lord Surt—finally taking a physical Aspect to enter the Worlds and to cleanse them of that stubborn intruder, Life. Not what you’d call a happy thought. Heidi’s assurances that, when the time came, he would recognize our role in the triumph of Chaos and take us back into the primal Fire all made perfect sense — at least, whenever she was around. When I was alone, I had a tendency to feel rather less certain about the whole thing. I wasn’t even entirely certain that I wanted to go back permanently to my primary Aspect. I’d found too many things to enjoy in this corrupt, confusing world of conflict and sensations. I’d realized that one of the things I enjoyed most was challenging Order and breaking rules — and how in the Worlds could I do that if there was no Order to challenge? Even assuming that it was possible that I could be taken back into the heart of Chaos, that my radically altered being could even survive in that element . . .
Did I really want that? Had I ever wanted it?
