Wolves of the Gods

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

There was not a soul to be seen as Safar and Palimak rode toward the city. The fields were empty, the farm house chimneys cold.

When they came to the gates there was no one to greet them, much less challenge them, and when they entered the city it seemed more like a great mausoleum, with only ghosts to watch as they passed by shuttered windows and closed doors.

"Where is everybody, father?" Palimak asked, unconsciously whispering.

"I don't know," Safar said.

Then they heard faint music and even fainter voices lifted in song. The sound was coming from Hantilia's silver palace.

Safar nodded toward the sound. "I expect we'll have our answer soon enough."

He tapped Khysmet's reins and the horse turned toward the palace, hooves clip-clopping in eerie time with the song.

They paused at the open palace gates. Inside were hundreds upon hundreds of red-robed Caluzians-so many the Queen's grand courtyard was filled to the overflowing. Her acolytes made a great circle many beings deep and in the center was Hantilia-most regal in her Asper robes and golden crown perched above her demon's horn. She was sitting upon a glorious throne made of ivory studded with many colorful gems. It had a sweeping back rising to form the symbol of Asper-the two-headed snake, wings spread wide as if ready to strike.

Hantilia sat calmly, a beatific smile on her face, as her subjects sang:

"It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

We take the sin, we take the sin,

Holy One.

On our souls, on our souls,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

No one else, no one else,

Holy One.

It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady … "

It was a haunting chant that stirred deep emotions in Safar, although at first he didn't know why it should hold any meaning for him. Then he remembered the vision in Asper's tomb where Queen Charize had reigned over a nest of blind monsters. Charize had claimed to be the protector of the master wizard's bones.

Harsh-voiced memory recalled the monster queen's song:

"We are the sisters of Asper,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

We guard his tomb, we guard his tomb,

Holy One … "

Safar stared hard at Queen Hantilia, all his magical senses alert for the lie behind her subject's song. But there was none to be found.

Gripping the saddle, Palimak leaned back as far as he could to see around his father's bulk. The sweet voices of the great choir made him feel sorry for Hantilia's people. He didn't know why the chant should make him feel that way. It just did.

He listened as the chant continued its circuitous quest:

"It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

We take the sin, we take the sin,

Holy One.

On our souls, on our souls,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

No one else, no one else,

Holy One.

It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady … "

Then Queen Hantilia saw them and her smile broadened. She gestured with a crystal-topped scepter and the acolytes' voices faded to a whispered, "It is our fault, it is our fault … " on and on without stop.

Hantilia gestured again and the crowd parted to make a long avenue leading to her throne. Safar noticed there were crushed flower petals strewn over the path, scenting the air with their sunny corpses. He slipped off Khysmet and hitched Palimak forward into the saddle, then he took up the reins and led horse and boy down the flower-strewn avenue to meet the Queen,

When he reached the steps leading up to the throne he stopped and bowed low, tugging at Khysmet's reins, who dipped like a veteran parade horse. Palimak surprised himself by instinctively going with the current and he made his own pretty bow from the saddle.

Hantilia applauded, saying, "My! What manners! You must have been an elegant sight at Iraj Protarus'

court, Safar Timura!"

She nodded at her whisper/singing acolytes. "I wish you had time to teach them what real manners are,"

she said. "Unfortunately, my court has always been so small and unimportant that my subjects never received much practice."

Safar made a small bow, but said nothing. It was the sort of royal statement wanting no comment.

Hantilia was merely setting him at ease and it would be the height of rudeness-an implied insult to her people-to agree.

The Queen turned to Palimak who was not used to royalty at all and was a little frightened by this imperious being. Moreover, with Khysmet between him and the ground he was nearly at eye level with Hantilia and he had shyness to add to his fears for being such an obvious target of scrutiny.

The Queen said, "You must be Palimak. I've been looking forward to this meeting for quite some time."

Her smile broadened. "For one so young," she said, "you cut quite a dashing figure on that horse."

Palimak just stared at her, blushing and feeling like a goggle-eyed, frozen-tongued babe. Her voice was warm and friendly, her manner seemed genuine. But the atmosphere had unnerved him-all those beings whisper/chanting, " … We take the sin, we take the sin,/Holy One." Except they stretched out the

"Holy One" so it was "Hoo-llyy Won-ahh." With a long hum stretching the "ahh" even more so itall sounded like a funeral.

He felt a stir in his tunic pocket and Gundara piped up, using his magical voice that could be heard by no other. "Don't be stupid, Little Master. She's only a queen. And not a very important queen at that!"

"Our queen was much grander," Gundaree added. "Much, much grander."

"Even she had to get someone to wash her dirty underwear," Gundara said. "Just like any normal being."

"No one is so royal," Gundaree put in, "they don't need to change their underwear."

Palimak started to giggle, then came unstuck. He dipped his head, and in the manner of a courtier he touched fingertips to his brow, then his breast, saying, "Your Majesty is too kind!"

Delivered in his high boy's voice, feet dangling many inches from Khysmet's stirrups, his little speech stirred laughter in the Queen. She covered with a cough, so as not to embarrass the child.

"Fine manners seem to run in the family, My Lord," she said to Safar. "You raised him well."

"Thank you, Majesty," Safar murmured.

The Queen's attention was still fixed on Palimak so Safar said nothing more. The exchange between them gave him time to cast a few sniffing spells to see what Hantilia was up to. So far he'd had little success.

"It's a pity your mother couldn't see you now," she said to the boy. "She'd be very proud."

Once again Palimak's tongue froze. He gaped at her a moment, then managed to stammer, "Y-y-you kn-kn-knew my mother?"

"I believe so, my dear," Hantilia said, demon eyes glowing softly. "Although I can't be certain, the resemblance is amazing."

Safar forgot about his spells. He was as riveted as the child. Neither one noticed that the voices of the chanters had risen slightly. Singing, " On our souls, on our souls/Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady."

And Palimak blurted-"My mother was human?" For some reason he'd always imagined his real mother was a demon.

The queen shook her head. "No, but even so, my dear, you are quite like her. Your eyes … the shape of your face … all very much the same. The more I look at you-even though she was pure demon-the more certain I become."

Hantilia leaned forward, examining him closer. She settled back in her throne. "Yes, I'm quite sure of it,"

she said. Then: "We called her Baalina."

"Baalina," Palimak said, rolling the name around, fixing it in his mind. "Baalina," he said again-but firmer.

Then he looked at the Queen, expectant.

"She was the daughter of one of my royal attendants," Hantilia continued. "Everyone knew and admired Baalina. She was not only a great beauty, with many suitors for her hand, but she was also a very powerful and promising young sorceress."

She turned to Safar. "She was with us when the Oracle appeared and bade us to begin this journey." She sighed. "We had no experience with the road, you understand. Many of my people were lost during those early days. Including the Princess Baalina."

"Then you don't know what happened to her," Safar said. Although he was intensely curious-Baalina's talent for sorcery explained much about Palimak's extraordinary abilities-Safar asked the question more for his adopted son than for himself. The boy clearly wanted to know, but was afraid to ask.

"I can't say," Hantilia replied. "Although we heard several rumors. The most reliable was that she had been rescued by a young soldier. A human soldier. The story was that they fell in love. A child was conceived and born." She nodded at Palimak. "You, my dear." She frowned, trying to remember if there were any other details. Finally, she shook her head. "That's all I know."

"You mean, they could still be alive?" Palimak asked, voice trembling.

"No, my dear," Hantilia said, kindly as she could. "I don't mean that. All the tales I heard agreed on at least one thing-they died in some tragic incident. That, and the fact that the child was somehow rescued."

She smiled at Palimak, saying, "And now we know that's true, don't we, my dear?" Palimak nodded. To say more would have burst a dam of tears.

Safar eyed Hantilia. Why was she bringing this up now? Why hadn't she told him this tale before so he could break the news to Palimak gently, instead of possibly unnerving the boy on the very day when he needed all of his strength and concentration.

"We'll never be able to repay Your Majesty for this kindness," he said to the Queen. "My son has long wondered about the mystery of his birth. Now he knows for certain what all of the people who love him have guessed for many years. That his mother was the kindest and sweetest of beings. A princess admired by all."

Then, to Palimak, "Maybe when we get back from seeing the Oracle you can have a longer visit with the Queen and she can tell you more."

Hantilia gazed at the two. It was a touching scene-father comforting son as best he could under the most trying of circumstances. She sensed Safar was suspicious of her motives. She was sorry for that. She wished she could tell him that all she'd done and said had been either ordained or commanded. But she couldn't.

Meanwhile, the boy was looking at her expectantly. And so the Queen said, "Your father's right, my dear. We can have a nice long chat when you return. And that's a promise."

At that moment the first of Iraj's scouts reached the entrance to the Caluzian Pass. There were six of them, all demons, and all hand-picked for their magical skills as well as for their tracking abilities.

Like Dario and Leiria they instantly saw the danger of ambush. They could also sense the strong magic emanating from somewhere deep within the bowels of the passage. This time, however, instead of the spell of humor and giddy well-being that had greeted the Kyranians, a tremendous sense of dread and certain doom radiated out at them. The spell was so strong it leaked through the shields Fari and his wizards had cast to protect them.

Shivering and gnashing their fangs in fear, the scouts drew back until they were out of range. They regrouped, repaired their shields and considered. Courage regained, several of the younger scouts wanted to continue on. Huge rewards had been offered to the first scouts who picked up the trail of Safar and the Kyranians.

Their leader, however, was a scarred veteran of similar encounters when golden bounties had outweighed common sense.

"All the gold in Esmir," he said, "won't buy us a drink in the taverns of the Hells. Let some other fiend get rich, if he dares."

With that, he unsaddled his mount and settled down to wait for the rest of the army to catch up. He broke out a package of rations and started to eat, calmly ignoring the others who were heatedly debating the pros and cons.

In the end, rare common sense prevailed over greed. Grumbling about missed opportunities, they followed his example.

Deep within the passage hollow eyes peered out at the scouts. Pale lips parted in a ghastly smile of anticipation at all the blood that would soon flow.

Then the Guardian warrior lifted his spectral horn and blew.

Hantilia shivered. The warning was for her ears only and so no one else heard the Guardian trumpeting news of Iraj Protarus' approach. The Queen signaled her assistant, who was posted at the far end of the courtyard. Then she turned to Safar and Palimak, hiding her concern with a broad smile.

"It is time, my dear ones," she said "for us to bid you farewell."

Despite her efforts to hide it, Palimak caught the eddy of magic emanating from the Queen as she gathered her powers.

At the same moment Gundara whispered a warning, "Watch out, Little Master. Something's going to happen!"

Khysmet shifted under him, snorting and swishing his tail. Alarmed, Palimak glanced at his father, who gave him a slight nod-he'd noticed too. The boy felt something soft fall over him as Safar cast a shielding spell to protect them from betrayal. Nerves tingling, the boy glanced over at the Queen. The flame in her eyes burned brighter. Whether there was good or evil there, he couldn't say.

Then the acolytes lifted their voices higher, singing, " … It is our fault, it is our fault,/Sweet Lady,Lady, Lady…"

And Hantilia intoned, "In the name of the Mother of us all, I command the Way be opened!"

She gestured and the far wall of the courtyard dissolved before their eyes. Beyond was a flower-lined pathway leading down a graceful hill to where the two rivers met. And where the Temple of Hadin waited.

The Queen pointed a long claw at the temple. "Go!" she commanded. "The Oracle awaits!"

Safar didn't hesitate. It was too late in the game for doubts, or for second-guessing Hantilia's motives. He grabbed the reins and swung into the saddle behind Palimak.

He saluted the Queen. "Until we meet again, Majesty," he said.

Hantilia smiled at him and he saw tears gathering in her eyes. "Yes, Safar Timura," she said, forcing one last lie. "Until we meet again."

Safar flipped the reins and Khysmet started forward-the chanting crowd parting to let them through. He felt Palimak shudder.

"Are you sure you want to do this, son?" He whispered. "Say the word and we'll turn back now."

Palimak shook his head. "I'm not afraid for us, father," he said. "Just for them."

From her throne Queen Hantilia watched Safar and Palimak ride toward the gateway-and the flowered path beyond. Unlike Leiria, she didn't have to stop and wonder if she'd ever see them again. She knew better. The Oracle had been quite clear on this subject from the very beginning.

They reached the gate and Khysmet hesitated a moment, then pressed forward. The air shimmered and there was a faint pop! like a bubble bursting, and then the horse and its riders were gone. But she could still hear the clip, clop of Khysmet's hooves on the seemingly empty pathway.

The Queen gestured and the gateway closed. She turned to her red-robed acolytes.

"Let the Great Sacrifice begin," she commanded.

Their voices rose in a loud chorus and she joined them in song:

"It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

We take the sin, we take the sin,

Holy One.

On our souls, on our souls,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

No one else, no one else,

Holy One.

It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady … "

Behind her the snake of Asper stirred into life, two pairs of eyes glowing blood red. Tongues flickering out to taste the air.

In the Kyranian encampment everyone heard the singing and stopped what they were doing, turning toward the city to listen.

"What in the Hells are they up to?" Leiria said to the group gathered about the airship.

The ship, which was straining against the strong cables that kept it earthbound, was crowded with crates of equipment that Leiria, Biner and the others had already loaded.

The muscular dwarf scratched his head. "Singing, I guess," he said.

Arlain, who was passing up a crate to Kairo, snorted. "Of courth, they're thinging!" she said. "Anyone with ear'th on hith head can tell that! The quethtion ith, why are they thinging?"

"I hope Safar and Palimak are all right," Khadji said. "I still think we should have sent a good strong force along with them … just in case."

Leiria sighed. "Once Safar gets a plan set in mind," she said, "there's no moving him from his course."

"Maybe it still isn't too late," Khadji said. "I could get Dario to gather up a few soldiers and go investigate."

"You won't hear me arguin'," Biner said. "For all we know those Asper heads have finally dropped their sand bags and gone starkers. He could be surrounded by a whole slaverin' bunch of them for all we know."

Leiria shook her head. "Much as I'd like to," she said, "we'd best stick to what we all agreed on. Which is to get everybody ready to run like the winds when Safar gets back." She pointed at the airship. "Plus, get that thing off the ground and do a little snooping to see what Iraj is up to."

"I thuppoth you're right," Arlain said, starting to hand up another crate to Kairo. "If we thtray from the plan now, we might all be real thorry later."

"I still don't like it," Khadji said. He looked around at the others, but they'd all returned to work, lifting and stacking and stowing the gear.

"I wish I could say something to make you feel better," Leiria told him. "But anything I said would be a damned lie."

Safar heard the gates crash shut and suddenly he was enveloped in darkness. There was a blast of heat, the choking smell of sulfur and long tongues of flame snaked out to devour them. Khysmet whinnied in pain and alarm, but Safar tightened his grip on the reins to steady him, at the same time throwing his cloak over Palimak.

He dug in his knees and the great horse charged forward. There was a feeling of resistance, a thick, oily stickiness dragging at them-then they burst through and found themselves charging down a rocky path, the Demon Moon gibbering overhead. Wild spells rushing in from every side with hungry mouths to devour them.

They were in a nightmare reversal of Caluz-a barren valley with black rocks ripping through hard, blood-red dirt where gentle fields filled with fat grains and fruited orchards had once reigned. The flower-bordered pathway was now a ruined roadway filled with razor sharp pebbles and limb-threatening potholes.

Ahead loomed the huge stone turtle that was the Temple of Hadin, straddling two roiling streams of inky water-a veritable sewer of greasy liquid spouting from its beaked mouth.

Drawing on Palimak's powers, as well as his own, Safar hurled up a shield to protect them from the insane magic of the Black Lands. Then he chanced a quick look behind and saw a blasted ruin where the Queen's palace had once stood-columns of foul-smelling smoke rising from the rubble.

The ground heaved under them and Khysmet nearly lost his footing, hooves scrabbling on loosened rock.

Safar threw his weight forward and the stallion broke through, hurling himself down the steep roadway toward the temple.

Palimak peered through the folds of Safar's cloak and saw the temple growing larger as they raced toward it.

Then from somewhere a great horn trumpeted and suddenly the temple seemed to retreat.

He heard his father urge Khysmet on and he felt the stallion strain with effort for still more speed. But the faster he ran, the farther away the temple seemed to be. Retreating across the valley-rivers and all-until it was a mere pinpoint lying against the black mountains forming the most distant wall of the valley.

"It's a trick, Little Master!" Gundara squeaked from his pocket.

"To the right! Go to the right!" Gundaree urged.

Palimak nudged his father. "That way, father!" he shouted, pointing to the right of the distant temple.

Instantly, Safar veered Khysmet off the path and down a boulder-strewn slope. Now they were heading across the valley floor-appearing to angle away from the temple. They had gone no more than a few yards when the landscape shifted and once again they were closing on the huge stone turtle.

On either side of them the ground erupted like boils bursting and hot, oily liquid spewed out, flowing across their path.

Safar pressed his knees into Khysmet's sides and the stallion gathered himself like a giant spring, then leaped across the smoking streams. He landed with barely a jolt and sped onward.

Huge gray boulders hunched up in their path. Khysmet gathered himself to leap, then reared back as the boulders came alive. Rising up on saw-toothed insect legs-vicious heads beetling out from under the gray shells, pincer jaws scissoring wide.

Safar drew his sword, hacking at the nearest. There was a terrible shriek as he cut into the creature, splitting its shell. Khysmet trumpeted defiance, striking out with his front legs, crushing the attacking insect with his hard hooves.

Palimak struggled to free his own small weapon, but as it came out of its sheath a nightmare face reared up and mighty jaws snatched the sword from his hand. Safar slashed and Palimak heard another shriek, then the creature was gone.

He had time to see several other giant insects fall on their wounded brothers, tearing hungrily at the shells to get at the flesh beneath.

Khysmet carried them out of the bloody chaos and they were free, racing toward the temple-now only a few hundred yards away.

Just then the ground opened up under them and they were falling, Khysmet shrilling in fear and flailing his legs.

Below a huge mouth yawned wide and a long tongue lined with fangs shot out to take them.

In Hantilia's courtyard, the Queen came to her feet, throwing her hands high to beseech the heavens.

"Dear Mother!" she cried over the chanting acolytes. "Two innocents seek your counsel. Two innocents whose presence you commanded."

Behind her, the twin-headed snake of Asper reared up from her throne, wings spreading like a cobra's hood, venom dripping from its fangs.

And the Queen intoned, "Know them, Mother! Spare them! Keep them safe! Remember our bargain, dear lady.

"Take us in their stead!"

Hantilia stared up at the heavens, waiting. Arms spread wide to embrace her fate-and the fate of her followers. For the first time in many years she felt at peace. Her mission was done. What would be, would be.

Then lightning blasted from the skies. She felt a terrible, searing pain.

And all was darkness.

And all was peace.

Leiria was thrown from her feet by the force of the blast. She hit the ground hard, breath knocked out of her. She heard people cry out-some in fear, some calling to others to ask if they were all right.

Then she could breathe again, gulping in all the air her lungs would hold. Awareness returned and the first she noticed was that the air tasted like blood-as if she were suddenly transported to a gigantic meat market, with aisle upon aisle of freshly skinned animal corpses hanging from hooks.

She groaned to her feet, ears ringing from the blast, looking around the encampment with dazed eyes, expecting the worst. To her amazement no one appeared hurt. Like her, people were climbing to their feet, patting themselves for signs of injury, or soothing crying children.

"By the gods who hate us," she heard Biner exclaim, "would you look at that!"

She turned to find him pointing at the city-or at the place where the city had once stood. Now it was nothing but a smoking ruin perched on a blasted hilltop. Only the Queen's palace still stood-towers oddly twisted and sagging.

Leiria heard someone moan and saw Khadji, who was staring at the ruins, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Safar!" he groaned. "Safar!"

Leiria felt as if her heart had been torn from her chest. She raced for a panicked horse, grabbed its loose reins and vaulted into the saddle-wrenching the poor beast's head around until it faced Caluz, then digging in her heels, spurring it forward. She was halfway up the hillside before anyone else had wits enough to follow.

Leiria was a soldier who had seen many horrors, but there was nothing in her experience to brace her for the devastation she witnessed in Caluz. Other than the palace, not one building was standing. Everything, including the strong walls encircling the city, had been reduced to waist-high piles of rubble as if a gigantic hand had flattened them. The streets were buckled, pavement hurled up in every direction, making it difficult for the horse to walk, much less gallop at the pace she'd originally demanded.

By the time she reached the palace several others, including Khadji, Biner and Sergeant Dario, had caught up with her. They all paused at the open gates, fearful to look inside. Leiria spurred her horse forward. It whinnied in fear, eyes rolling wildly, mouth frothing, fighting her so hard that she finally gave up and dismounted. The horse bolted away as soon as she dropped the reins. Leiria braced herself and walked through the gates.

At first it seemed a peaceful scene. Hundreds upon hundreds of red-robed figures were lying on the ground-limbs and clothing all neatly arranged as if they had fallen asleep. Raised on a platform in the center of the courtyard was the Queen's ornate throne, presided over by the carved Asper snake.

Slumped at the foot of the throne was the still body of Hantilia.

"Dead!" she heard Dario growl. "Ever' blessed one of 'em."

Numb, Leiria stalked forward, stepping over the robed figures, until she came to the throne and mounted the steps. She looked down at Hantilia's corpse, feeling oddly removed, as if looking down from a great distance. The Queen's features were peaceful. Smiling.

"Where's Safar?" she heard Khadji demand. "And Palimak! Where's little Palimak?"

Leiria glanced around the courtyard, picking over body after body, heart hammering at her ribs, expecting at any moment to discover Safar lying among them.

"I don't see him," she mumbled. "Or Palimak, either." She kept looking, wits dull as old brass. "And the horse," she said. "Khysmet. There's no way you could miss him!"

Someone caught her arm and she looked around and found Khadji staring at her, eyes desperate.

"Where are they?" he demanded, acting as if she were cruelly withholding information.

"I don't know," she said.

Khadji gripped her arm harder. "Do you think they're dead?"

"I don't know that either," Leiria said.

One moment Safar and Palimak were falling toward a ghastly death and then there was a great clap of thunder and suddenly they were trotting along the rocky floor of a huge cave, dazzled by the sunlight streaming through the entrance. There was the sound of bursting waves and a shallow river of foamy water rushed into the cave, hissing around Khysmet's legs as he splashed toward the light.

The light broke across them as they exited the cave and they found themselves traversing a peaceful beach-a cool, salty breeze blowing, while overhead gulls wheeled in clear blue skies, crying for their supper.

Khysmet was the first to recover. He snorted in surprise, then shook his head in delight at still being alive and trotted through the foamy surf toward a distant spit of land jutting out into a rolling ocean.

Palimak came out of his shock, peering out at ocean. "Is this real, father?" he said, voice croaking in wonder. "Or are we still in the Black Lands?"

Safar laughed and gave him a hug. "What a son you are!" he exclaimed. "One minute we're facing certain death. The next, we appear to be safe. And the first words out of your mouth are-'is it real?'"

Palimak flushed happily at the compliment. But his eyes were drinking in the vision of the rolling seas and gently crashing waves. A child of the mountains, he'd never experienced the ocean before.

He shook himself-not unlike Khysmet. Still the vision of an endless rolling horizon persisted, beckoning to him, calling with the voice of the gulls.

Again he asked, "Is it real, father?"

Safar threw back his cloak to catch the fresh breezes. "Real as can be, son," he said.

Palimak sighed relief. Then he frowned. "But where are we, exactly?"

Safar studied their surroundings-the ocean was to their left and to the right was a vast range of green mountains hugging the coastline. He mentally correlated what he could see with his memory of the maps Coralean had given them.

He pointed south at the mountains. Two peaks commanded the center of the range. "As near as I can tell," he said, "Caluz-and the Black Lands-are beyond those peaks." He nodded at the vast ocean to their left. "And that's the Great Sea," he added. "It could be nothing else. Near as I can tell, some magical way has been opened between Caluz and the sea."

The boy was only mildly surprised. He was still young enough so it didn't seem so strange that they'd been transported hundreds of miles.

He studied the vast oceanic distances for a moment, then said, "And Syrapis is somewhere out there?"

"Yes. I believe so."

"But it must be very far. How do we get there?"

"The same way we got here, son," Safar answered. "Magic."

Although his manner was sanguine, Safar was just as surprised as the boy. From the very beginning, he hadn't been sure what to expect. Even if he had let his imagination run free, he would never have dreamed such a thing could happen. He peered ahead, studying the small peninsula they were heading toward. A powerful wave of sorcery was emanating from that direction, pulling at them-urging them onward.

Safar was certain that the Oracle was waiting for them there.

Then Khysmet perked up his ears. He whinnied and quickened his pace. Up ahead, riding off the land spit, was a sight that made Safar's heart jump-a glorious woman with long ebony limbs and flowing hair trotted toward them on a spirited black mare.

The woman waved at them. Her laughter was sweet music floating on the ocean breezes and Safar forgot all caution.

"Do you know her, father?" Palimak asked.

"Yes," he answered, voice husky. "I know her."

Khysmet broke into a gallop and they skimmed across the sandy beach toward the woman.

Palimak felt a scratching in his pocket. Then Gundara spoke up: "Little Master! There's something you should know. I hate to contradict Lord Timura, but everything he's said about this place is wrong!"

"None of this is real, Little Master." Gundaree added. "Can't you feel it? We're inside the machine! And Lord Timura doesn't know it!"

At that moment the light suddenly dimmed and a freezing wind blasted off the seas.

And it began to snow.