The tower rocked. All the bright tapestries billowed and flowed against the walls. And the radiant thing that was the Aesir—
Went out like a blown flame. Stuart saw it darken in the quickness of a heartbeat from blinding brightness to an angry, sullen scarlet, and then to the color of embers, and then to darkness.
There was nothing there at all.
And Stuart's brain dimmed with it one last glimpse he had of the shining smile on Kari's face, triumph and delight, in the instant before the cloudiness of oblivion blotted her features out.
He was not dead. Somewhere, far away, his body lay prone upon the cold pavement of the Aesir's hall, a hall terribly empty now of life. But Stuart himself hung in empty space, somewhere between life and death.
The thought of the Protectors touched him gently, almost caressingly.
"You are a mighty man, Derek Stuart. Your name shall not be forgotten while mankind lives."
With infinite effort he roused his mind.
"Kari—" he said.
There was silence for a moment—a warm silence. But the voices, speaking as one, said gently, "Have you forgotten? When the Aesir died, Kari died too. And you, Derek Stuart—you can never go back to your body now. You remember that?"