Ragnarok staggered, almost falling. He gathered himself and jumped, clearing the side of his ship and tumbling into the bottom. He got to his feet. “Row!” He pointed at the black circle they had come out of. “There!”
More bolts of blue were shooting off the top of the pyramid toward the darkness, hitting with massive explosions, the sound hitting Ragnarok and his crew, causing ear-splitting pain.
Ragnarok grabbed the nearest oar and began pulling as Bjarni pushed the till over and pointed them at the black circle. They touched the edge and drawn in.
The sudden silence was blessed relief, but they were not off the shore of Iceland, Ragnarok knew that immediately from the warmth of the air. He stood, staring about in amazement. They were in a giant cave, a bright light like the sun shining over their heads, rock walls on all sides, a black beach circling the water they floated in.
There were ships, more ships than Ragnarok had ever seen, pulled up on the beach.
“What is this?” Hrolf slowly stopped pulling on his oar.
Tam Nok had given Ragnarok the vision of his future. He knew what his duty was.
“This is where I must stay, old friend,” Ragnarok grabbed the grizzled warrior’s forearm.
“We will stay-” Hrolf began, but Ragnarok cut him off with a shake of his head.
“No. You must go back. Go through the dark circle once more. It will take you back to Iceland. Then go back to Norway. To our village. Make peace with the king.”
Hrolf nodded. “And your mother?”
“Tell her all is well with me and give her my wishes for her happiness. Now go- take whatever ship you want- I will stay with mine.” Ragnarok watched as Hrolf had the survivors claimed another Viking ship, one even larger than his and pushed it off the strange shore. They passed him, oars hitting the water.
Ragnarok climbed up onto the gunwale of the longship. “Good sailing,” he yelled, ax in hand. Hrolf gave the order to row to the few surviving crewmembers. Slowly the slowly the other longship headed for the black circle, then as the dragon head touched the black, it was sucked in and disappeared, leaving Ragnarok alone in the graveyard of the ships aboard his own ship.
“Back through the black circle,” Dane ordered.
DeAngelo already had them headed in that direction. The inside of Deepflight was vibrating from the shock-waves racing through the water. They reached the black circle and suddenly all was still.
Dane stared at the screens showing the graveyard. He sensed a presence, not of someone alive and here, but of someone who had been here. A warrior who had painstakingly etched an important message into the metal of the Scorpion.
“Again through the black,” Dane ordered. “It will take us outside.”