"John Starr didn't think so," Stuart said. "Neither do I. And at worst I can always die, as he did. Listen, Kari." He gripped her arms. "Think. You've lived here for a while. Is there any weapon against those devils?"
She met his gaze steadily. "Yes," she said. "But—"
"What is it? Where?"
Abruptly Kari's face changed. She pressed herself against Stuart, avoiding his lips, simply seeking—he knew—warmth and companionship. She was crying softly.
"So long—" Kari whispered, her arms tight around him. "I've been here so long—with the gods. And I'm so lonely, Derek Stuart. So lonely for green fields and fires and the blue sky. I wish—"
"You'll see Earth again," Stuart promised. At that Kari pulled away. Her strange half-breed loveliness was never more real than then, with tears sparkling on her dark lashes, and her mouth trembling.
She said, a catch in her voice, "I'll show you the weapon, Stuart."
She turned toward the wall. Her hand moved in a quick gesture. A panel opened there in the glowing surface.
Kari reached in, and when she withdrew her arm, it was as though she held a torrent of blood that poured down from her grip. It was a cloak, Stuart saw, made of some material so fine that it rippled like water. Its crimson violence was bizarre against the cool green of Kari's garment.
"This cloak—" she said. "You must wear it if we face the Aesir."