trapped in the earth’s crust.

Some spawned hordes of lesser creatures, which then spread out across the
World when their parents escaped.”
“Lesser creatures?” Eric asked. “Like that… that giant that put me in here?”
“Indubitably,” Munin said. “Jared is the last descendant of the only surviving child of a giant your
father slew in ancient days.”
“And the dwarves,” Eric said. “Are they titanspawn too?”
“Yeah,” Hugin said, “except they’re okay. They’ve got free will because the Titan they spawned from
is dead now. The frost giants have free will too, and for the same reason, but unlike dwarves, they tend
to be jerks.”
At this point, Munin could contain himself no longer.
“Don’t forget to tell him about the others as well,” he said. With barely a pause, he looked at Eric and
said, “Aside from such creatures as the dwarves, there are others lurking about as well. Centaurs, kitsune,
lindwurms…” A low caw from Hugin broke Munin’s train of thought. “Ahem, yes. Such creatures were
created similarly to the Gods long ago, but they are neither divine nor titanspawn, nor entirely mortal
like human beings. They are simply what they are.”
“But the titanspawn,” Hugin said, “those guys are terrible. They’re working to free any Titans who are
still trapped here, and they’ll kill anybody they can’t use to spite the hated Gods. Given half the chance,
they’d wreck the World and destroy everybody on it just because this is where the Gods’ children are.”
“That won’t stand,” Eric said quietly. “But what can I do?”
The ravens bobbed in excitement.
“What you do,” Hugin said, “is gather up a Band of Scions like yourself and start hunting the
titanspawn down one nest at a time. Most titanspawn don’t try to overtly manipulate the regular people
around them, but if you scratch the surface in places where something weird’s going on, you’ll almost
always find them causing trouble. When you do, you’ll be glad for the help.”
“That sounds great,” Eric said. “I do see one problem with forming a Band of Scions, though. I’m
still a little bit trapped in a giant’s dungeon under a mountain right now.”
“Oh right…” Hugin said. “That reminds me of something I meant to tell you before.”
“Must have slipped your mind, old boy,” Munin chided him.
“Tell me what?” Eric asked.
As if in answer, a one-yard-square section of the wall in the rear corner of the cell popped open on
a silent hinge and swung outward. The door was so cunningly designed that Eric hadn’t noticed any hint
of a seam. A gray-haired female dwarf emerged from the low tunnel behind it and set down a darkened
lantern.
“Oh my goodness,” she said to Eric in what sounded like a Minnesota accent. “Don’t you look just
like your father?”
Eric could only stare. Hugin and Munin both nodded to the dwarf. She waved to them and nodded
back toward the door whence she’d entered.
“Well, now,” she said, “looks like I’ve got the tunnel open. Ready to go?”
“Um…” Eric said.
“Almost,” Hugin said.
“Okay then.”
“Eric,” Munin said, “this is Sindri. She and her husband are old friends of your father.”
“He knows who that is, right?” Sindri whispered to Hugin. Hugin gave her a reassuring nod.
“Okay…” Eric said.