Gunnar had moved himself to a sitting position against one of the railings. His chin was upon his great chest and his eyes were closed as though he slept. But when Odin knelt beside him, he opened one eye and looked up with a twisted smile upon his broad face. One side of his face was barely recognizable. Gunnar was badly burned. He had been thrust through at least a dozen times. But Gunnar lived. "Eh, Nors-King," he whispered, sitting up straight as Odin steadied him in his arms. "It was a long time to wait. And I thought sometimes that I would not make it. But I held on, for I knew you would come. Oh, it has been a long wait--and it took all my strength." "As fast as I could," Odin answered in a choking voice. "As fast as I could, O Chief of the Neeblings. For Ragnarok is past, and the tree of life still reaches into the stars. The twilight is past and new suns and new earths are quickened. And Gunnar still lives." "Part of him." Gunnar blinked his good eye. "What happened down there? Oh," he gasped in pain, "to have missed the fighting!" "Maya lives and I live. Ato is wounded. Wolden came at the last to help us, Gunnar. We won. And I have killed Grim Hagen with my bare hands, even as I promised." "Good, Nors-King. I knew always that one of us would kill him. Oh, it was a grand fight. But Gunnar will sharpen his sword no more. There was a ford near my father's house where the clear water ran fresh over the stones. That might help me. But it is far away. And my father too. You tell Freida that we did not make the long trip in vain." "If I can," Odin promised. "Oh, you can. For we have won the stars and nothing is beyond us--except youth, maybe." Gunnar closed his eyes and slept for a few minutes while Odin held him in his arms. Then Gunnar awoke. He smiled at Jack Odin and murmured: "To awake on the sea of the stars--" Jack Odin had heard Gunnar sing those words before. They belonged to an old Norse lullaby that Gunnar's mother had crooned to him when he was a little boy. Then Gunnar died. And Odin knelt over him, tears streaming down his broken face. CHAPTER 19 Six months had passed since the battle. The city of the violet dome was rebuilt. The ashes of the dead had been strewn upon the mossy plains. The two ships now stood in peace and gazed at each other across the expanse of moss and grass that had replaced the cinders left from the fighting. Another city was being built a few miles away. Ato had soon recovered from his wounds, and as ship's captain had married Maya and Odin. So it was over. But Odin and Maya had asked for Gunnar's ashes, and had buried them out there on the plain, beneath a gaunt tree which was something like a mesquite. Gunnar would have liked that. Twisted, gnarled, and tough, the tree spread out its branches above him; and a bird had built its nest there and sang its old song of stars and men and time.