The Gods Awaken

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Don't open the door, Little Master!" Gundara whispered.

"It's definitely not a good idea!" Gundaree chimed in.

Once again, Palimak heard a heavy thump against his cabin wall.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Something really, really mean," Gundara replied.

"And hungry," Gundaree added. "You forgot to mention that."

"You always say that," Gundara sniffed. "Mean things usually are hungry. That's what makes them so mean."

Palimak put a finger to his lips, shushing them. He motioned and the two Favorites leaped up on his shoulders and perched on either side of his head.

He put his ear against the door, listening. Nothing.

No, wait! He thought he could make out a creaking noise. It reminded him of thick boughs settling in a tree. Very strange.

Palimak opened mental gates to his demon side and his senses became more acute. Beneath the sound of the settling boughs he heard a slight clicking. Like a beetle? No, not that. Then more clicking. Was there more than one?

Cautiously, he sent out a magical feeler. He caught the vibrating aura of a single being. But what kind of a being, he couldn't tell.

He slipped the astral tentacle out further, gently feeling around.

First there was a warning buzz of magic. Then suddenly something white-hot burned his senses and he snatched the probe back.

"It still doesn't know you're awake, Little Master," Gundara whispered.

"That was just its armor," Gundaree explained.

Palimak noticed he was dripping with sweat. And it wasn't from fear or tension. The cabin was definitely getting warmer.

Then his demon hearing picked up a rustling sound, like a breeze disturbing an old pine. Followed by more clicking sounds. All very faint.

"It's trying to talk to me and Gundaree," Gundara said.

"But it doesn't want us to wake you up," Gundaree said.

"Go ahead and answer," Palimak said.

Evidently they did, because he felt a tingling sensation run up his spine and his hair stood on end.

Followed by another heavy thump against the wall. And the sound of the whispering pines and insect-like clicking.

Then silence-the waiting kind where stillness takes on a shadowy presence. The room grew warmer, the atmosphere dank from the sweat pouring off Palimak in rivulets. Finally:

"He doesn't seem so mean now, Little Master," Gundara said.

"Not mean at all," Gundaree added.

"But he's still hungry," Gundara said.

"So what?" Gundaree said. "You can't blame somebody for being hungry."

"That's true," Gundaree said in singular agreement. "I'm hungry right now, as a matter of fact. And it's making me feel mean."

"What does he want?" Palimak said, paying no attention to the last.

"Oh, nothing much, Little Master," Gundara said. And Palimak could almost hear the shrug in his voice.

"Except he wants us to help kill you," Gundara added.

Palimak raised his eyebrows. But said nothing.

"He promised us all sorts of nice things if we agreed," Gundaree said.

"And he also said we wouldn't have to work so hard all the time," Gundara put in.

"He sure sounded like a pretty nice new master to me," Gundaree said.

"What did you tell him?" Palimak asked.

"Oh, that we'd think about it," Gundara said.

"Good," Palimak said. "We need to stall for time."

"Except, maybe we really will think about it," Gundaree threatened.

"The snacks around here haven't been too good lately," Gundara said.

Palimak ignored this last exchange. The Favorites had been his lifelong companions. And although they could be nasty, quarrelsome little things, in their thousand years of existence he was the only friend they'd ever had. Besides, their loyalties were bound to whoever possessed the stone turtle that was their home.

He wiped perspiration from his eyes and looked around the cabin, trying to figure out what to do. Magic was out. The intense heat, he realized, was the by-product of a spell meant to smother his abilities.

And it was doing a good job of it, too! Even the idea of sorcery made him feel weary.

A direct physical attack would also be doomed. Whatever the thing was, it was huge and most certainly prepared to deal with Palimak on a one-on-one basis.

"Why doesn't he just break down the door and kill me himself?" Palimak asked. "Why does he need you?"

"Because you can still use us to make magic and fight him," Gundara said.

This surprised Palimak. "Aren't you two affected by his spell?"

"Little Master's being stupid again," Gundaree said.

"He certainly is," Gundara said.

"Stop it!" Palimak hissed. The heat and tension were making him impatient. "Just answer my question."

Gundara gave a long sigh, like a child pressed by an adult to explain the painfully obvious.

"Magic is what we're made of, Little Master," he said. "Don't you know that?"

"Oh," Palimak said, feeling very stupid indeed.

The Favorites were spirit folk, composed entirely of magical particles. Safar had explained this to him years ago. He'd used the analogy of a clay jar filled with water. A human or demon wizard was a jar containing a certain amount of sorcerous "liquid." Whereas spirit folk were the jar itself, plus all it contained.

"If his spell could take away our magic," Gundaree continued for his brother, "then we wouldn't be here.

We'd be dead."

"Sorry," Palimak said. "I didn't mean to get angry."

"That's all right, Little Master," Gundara allowed in a rather grand manner. "We know you can't always be perfect like us."

There was another thump at the door. Then a cracking sound as something heavy leaned against it. He could see the planks bending inward under the weight.

"He's getting mad, Little Master," Gundaree said. "He wants our answer now, or he's going to come in anyway."

"Stall him some more," Palimak said.

The twins resumed their odd communication with the creature, filling the air with whispering and clicking noises.

Whatever lies they told seemed to work, because soon the planks groaned as the weight was removed and they resumed their original shape.

Even with the help of the Favorites, Palimak knew he didn't have enough sorcerous strength to live through an encounter with the creature. Which meant the only avenue open was escape.

He glanced at the open porthole-the only exit from the cabin, other than the door. Steam from the overheated room was wisping out into the night like a fog.

For a moment, he considered climbing out and dropping into the sea. Then he dismissed that idea. The ship was under full sail and Palimak would swiftly be left behind to drown.

It was starting to come down to a choice between a watery grave or being eaten alive.

As if on cue, Gundara whispered, "I'm hungry!"

"Me too!" Gundaree said.

Absently, Palimak fished a biscuit from his pocket and broke it in half. A wriggling worm fell to the floor.

Palimak looked at the worm, then at the two biscuit halves, then at the door. A hazy idea started to take form.

"What kind of a creature is he?" Palimak asked the twins.

"Oh, he's sort of like a tree," Gundara said. "Except he doesn't have any leaves."

"And he's sort of like an animal," Gundaree said. "Except he doesn't have any skin or bones."

"But he's got ever so many teeth," Gundara said.

"They're all over his branches," Gundaree added. "Lots and lots of teeth in lots and lots of little mouths, all with long, sharp tongues."

"I'm sorry we can't be more helpful, Little Master," Gundaree said. "But it's hard to describe something that's both an animal and a tree."

"And we really wouldn't help him kill you," Gundara said.

"Never!" Gundaree agreed.

A slight pause, then: "Now can we eat?" Gundara asked plaintively.

"I want the worm!" Gundaree said, smacking his lips.

"Not this time," Palimak said. "I need that worm."

He squatted, took out his dagger and cut the worm in half.

"Poor thing," Gundara observed.

Gundaree sneered at his twin. "What's wrong with you?" he asked. "It's only a stupid worm."

Gundara wiped away a solitary tear. "But she seemed so happy in that biscuit," he said. "And now look at her. One part's a head without a tail. And the other's a tail without a head."

"I'll soon fix that," Palimak said, placing a wriggling piece on each side of the door.

Then he crept silently to his bedside and fetched a pitcher of water back to the door. He crumbled up the biscuit halves, mixed them with the water and made two lumps of dough. From these he formed two credible dough men, complete with legs, arms, heads and faces with simple features.

"I get it," Gundara said. "They're sort of like the cheese monster!"

He was referring to one of Palimak's boyhood experiments that had worked well enough to get them all into trouble with Safar.

"Something like that," Palimak agreed.

Then he indicated the still-moving worm halves. "Get in," he ordered the twins.

"Yuk!" Gundara said.

"Yum!" said Gundaree.

Palimak pointed at Gundara. "Just do as you're told."

Pouting and muttering under his breath, Gundara stomped over to his worm half, held his nose, then vanished inside.

"You next," Palimak said to the lip-smacking Gundaree. "But don't you dare eat it!"

The Favorite's smile was replaced by a look of outrage. He kicked at the floor, grumbling, "I never get to have any fun!"

But he did as he was told and vanished into the piece reserved for him. Palimak pressed a worm half into each doughman and set them on either side of the door.

Then, very slowly and quietly he slipped the latch.

Heart hammering so hard he was sure the creature could hear it, he tiptoed to his bunk, stripped off the blanket and tied one end to a stool.

He placed the stool under the porthole and grasped the free end of the blanket.

Then he said to the twins: "All right. Tell him to come in!"