The Gods Awaken

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

King Rhodes and his mother were quite enjoying the battle for the Nepenthe.

Floating just above her golden-tiled table was an exact duplicate of the events taking place hundreds of miles from their own ship. Shimmering on her table was the night sea with the choppy waves, foam tinted pink by the Demon Moon.

A miniature of the Nepenthe boomed through those waves under full sail. Hovering over it was the airship, boarding lines dangling down to the deck. And all along the Nepenthe's deck were the tiny figures of the Kyranians struggling valiantly but hopelessly against the tree beasts.

They could even see Safar and Leiria, swords slashing this way and that, rage across the deck on the broad back of Khysmet.

"Oh, good show, good show!" Rhodes declared as one of the creatures swept Leiria off the stallion and onto the glistening boards.

Peering at the scene through the king's eyes, Kalasariz reacted with equal glee. Of all the many people and demons he hated, Leiria was quite high on his list.

He'd been unsure of the plan when Clayre had proposed it only a few days before. Now that it was coming to fruition-with the deaths of Safar and Palimak apparently imminent-he liked it so much he was beginning to become a little envious that it wasn't a plan of his own making.

As the battle for the Nepenthe raged, Kalasariz reflected back on the day Clayre had had her sudden inspiration.

Stealing the ships was his idea, of course. It was the kind of sneak attack Kalasariz had mastered many years before when he was one of the three rulers of Walaria.

The pursuit of Safar was also his idea and it had taken all his cunning to convince Rhodes and Clayre this was a goal superior to their own.

The king and his mother would have been content to use the ships to launch a new invasion of the Kyranian fortress in Syrapis. Life long island dwellers, their idea of empire fitted exactly the shoreline boundaries set by the Great Sea.

And so when Kalasariz offered them the world as their kingdom, they were at first hard put to stretch their imagination beyond the spit of sand and rock that was Syrapis.

Eventually his silky powers of persuasion had fired their ambitions. All they had to do was get their hands on Safar and Palimak-it didn't matter if they were dead or alive-and supreme power would be theirs.

Power that even the gods might envy.

The only worm in the apple-and this he hadn't mentioned-was that he also needed Iraj Protarus.

Kalasariz was only guessing that wherever Safar was, Iraj would be nearby.

One thing he was fairly sure of was that once he got his hands on Safar's corpse some sort of spell could be devised to locate his former king.

With Iraj in the spymaster's power, Kalasariz could rid himself of his two barbarian allies. And then he would rule absolutely. And alone. Once he had been content to share power, or even to manipulate from the shadows behind a throne.

But since he'd arrived in Syrapis to take up residence in Rhodes he'd undergone a spiritual transformation that quite excited him.

Kalasariz now truly understood that kings and allies could not be trusted-unless your boot was firmly planted on their throats. And the only way to assure himself of that happy state of affairs was to wear the royal mantle himself.

As for his plan, in the beginning the only trouble was that Safar would be difficult to catch. The Nepenthe had a head start of many days and it would require more luck than skill to corner the Kyranians. Once that was accomplished, however, defeating the Timuras would be simple. It would be three ships, all packed with crack troops, against the Nepenthe's puny forces.

Even the airship wouldn't give Safar much of an advantage, because Kalasariz fully intended to strike when all the Kyranians were on land, taking on supplies and water.

But to surprise Safar, they needed to catch him first. Kalasariz hadn't known how go about this, but thought it best to sail after the Nepenthe as fast as they could and hope for some storm or other accident to delay the Kyranians long enough to overtake them.

It was his experience that good fortune usually tended to favor the hunter rather than the hunted.

Clayre, however, had other ideas. Such as creating a delay through sorcery, rather than trusting to chance. Even with the newly-won magical powers that Kalasariz now possessed-thanks to the meal he'd made out of Fari and Luka-he didn't see how it could be done.

The distance was too great, he reasoned. Plus, they didn't know the exact position of the Nepenthe.

The beautiful Queen Witch solved that soon enough. First she dug out a roll of ancient parchment. It was a copy of Asper's hand-drawn map of the world, which the demon wizard had composed during his travels. She'd gotten it from Charize, the false guardian of Asper's tomb.

"I never thought I'd have any use for this," she said. "However, there are some faint traces of magic in it left over from Asper. Enough to cure a wart, perhaps, but no more. Regardless, I make a habit of never throwing anything magical away, so I put it aside just in case."

She also had another surprise up her sleeve. "Bring me the gold Palimak Timura gave you," she commanded her son.

This stung Rhodesa€™ most vulnerable part-his greedy heart.

"That gold is mine," he said. "If you want to buy something, use your own funds. I give you a large enough allowance, the gods and my treasurer know. Besides, I earned that gold the hard way."

His face darkened at the memory of Palimak and Leiria standing before him, gloating at his defeat.

"It was the most humiliating thing that's ever happened in my life," he said. "And there isn't gold enough in the world to make me forget it."

This, of course, was a gross exaggeration. Rhodes would do anything for money and power.

As witness his eager willingness to sacrifice his own daughter, Jooli.

However, Kalasariz quite understood his point. Although gold itself had never been that important to him-except for the power it contained-he was equally avaricious in other ways.

Kalasariz also knew what it was like to suffer humiliation at the hands of a Timura. He had several scores to settle with Safar on that account.

Even so, Kalasariz suspected there was more to Clayre's request than a need to buy magical supplies.

She'd been quite specific, as a matter of fact. It was Palimak's gold she wanted. Not just a random purse of the stuff from the king's treasury.

He stirred in his nest, signaling Rhodes that he was about to communicate. When he had the king's attention, he said, I know she's a greedy bitch, Majesty, but perhaps there's more to her requestthan meets the eye.

Rhodesa€™ frown deepened, but Kalasariz felt the king's nerve cords relax and knew he'd gotten through. But first Rhodes had to hear his mother out.

"Why do you always insist on arguing with me about ever little detail, son?" she said. "Your father was of the same quarrelsome nature and look what it got him."

"Dead," Rhodes replied, a little nastily.

"That's right, dead," Clayre agreed.

She sighed, thinking about her former husband. "I swear," she continued, "no matter what I said, your father had an argument against it. Why, we could have been talking about a haunch of venison and if I said it was gamy, he'd claim it was sweet. And he never listened to me. Never! It was as if he had his ears plugged with wax every time I came into his presence."

Clayre smiled in gentle reflection. "But in the end, I certainly unstopped his ears, didn't I? Unfortunately, a corpse can't hear. Still, I made my point clear to his ghost."

Rhodes barely suppressed a shudder. Curious, Kalasariz tapped into his memories. He caught an image of Clayre pouring hot poisoned oil into the ears of her sleeping husband. Immediately, his admiration for Clayre increased.

A difficult woman she might be, but one couldn't deny she had a sense of humor.

Clayre gazed on her stubborn son. "So, I ask you again, my son," she said, "to kindly bring me Palimak Timura's gold. Hmm?"

Rhodes bristled at the implied threat. "Or what?" he asked.

And Clayre replied, "Or I can't help you find the ship, that's all. What else did you think I meant?"

"Never mind," Rhodes said. "I'll get the gold."

When he returned with the purse, Clayre dumped the gold out on her magical table. She sorted through the coins, eyes narrowed in concentration. Finally, she held one up.

"This will do," she said. Then she dismissed the others with a wave. "You can have these back."

Puzzled, but relieved, Rhodes quickly scooped up the coins and returned them to the purse. One fell to the floor so he got down on his hands and knees and crawled about until he found it.

Kalasariz was irritated to the extreme. This was not proper behavior for a king. But he said nothing. His object was to make Rhodes think of him as his dearest friend and he had to be careful not to appear judgmental. Ah, well, he thought. Living inside another person certainly had its burdens-even though the host did do all the physical work.

"Why did you choose just that one coin, mother?" Rhodes asked after he'd tucked the purse away.

"Because it carries the strongest scent," she replied. "Apparently young Palimak held it more than the others. Perhaps he even bit the coin when he first received it to make sure it was pure gold. In any event, he's left very heavy traces of his aura behind for us to make use of."

Then, with no further explanation, she unrolled the parchment map and placed it across the golden tiles.

Four stubby black candles were stuck at each corner to hold it down. The gold coin went in the center.

"Now, help me with this," she said.

Rhodes obediently approached the table. While she concentrated, Kalasariz stoked up his own magical fires, lashing the imps that were Fari and Luka with red-hot whips until their sorcerous energies boiled over and flowed into his own.

This was Kalasariz favorite part of his new-found skills at performing the business of magic. The two demons were hateful creatures who had worked long and hard to bring him down. Their agonies gave him pleasure of such extremes that it bordered on the sexual. Which in his present form was the best he could do, since the only way he could enjoy the mating act these days was through Rhodesa€™

activities.

And the king was such a rutting brute, with no style at all, that his amorous exploits only whetted Kalasariza€™ appetite.

As he focused his powers, adding them to Clayre's considerable strength, he saw the coin begin to move.

The movement was hesitant at first-a barely perceptible tremble. Then it shifted left a few inches, then right, then to the center again.

Another trembling hesitation, then it shot below the center point and came to rest.

Clayre waved a hand at the coin and it slowly transformed in shape, size and color until it became an exact duplicate of the Nepenthe, sails billowing in a spirit-world wind.

Then she broke the sorcerous connection and Kalasariz relaxed.

Rhodes leaned over the table to get a closer look, and through the king's eyes Kalasariz could see that the ship sat a little south of a large land mass, with small tree-like squiggles inked in.

"They're just off Aroborus," Clayre said. "The land of the forests."

"Now that we know where they are," Rhodes asked, "how do we delay them?"

"Never fear, my son," Clayre said with supreme confidence. "I'll think of something."

Kalasariz gazed fondly at the tiny figures of the tree beasts as they ravaged the Kyranian forces, driving them across the deck of the Nepenthe.

Clayre had been as good as her word and then some. Drawing on the Land of the Forests for inspiration, she'd created a unique and cunning enemy to delay and perhaps even destroy Safar Timura and his allies.

Kalasariz noted that Leiria was still down, barely holding off one creature, while Safar-seated on his white stallion-fought desperately but futilely to reach her.

Suddenly, he saw Jooli burst onto the scene, armed with a spear. She set the butt onto the deck and vaulted over several beasts to land at Leiria's side.

Then she jabbed at the beast that was attacking the Kyranian warrior, driving it back long enough for Leiria to come up and hack it down with her blade.

"You have to admit," Rhodes rumbled in fatherly admiration, "that my daughter is one hells of a soldier.

Too bad the bitch whelp turned traitor and joined the other side."

But Clayre did not share his pride, grudging though it might have been. She became furious at the sight of her granddaughter.

"I'll fix her," she snarled.

She drew a long, sharp pin from her hair and rubbed it vigorously on the sleeve of her silken witch's gown. Kalasariz could feel the energy growing until magical sparks shot off.

Then Clayre jabbed the pin down at the tiny figure of Jooli.

But as the needle point descended, Kalasariz, whose attention had been fixed on his old enemy, saw Safar sheathe his sword. He pulled an object from his cloak that the spymaster couldn't quite make out.

When he raised it to his lips, however, Kalasariz realized it was some sort of horn.

And just as Clayre thrust the needle at Jooli, Safar blew through the horn. The sound blasted through Clayre's cabin as if it were made by some gigantic trumpet.

The Queen Witch gasped in shock as she saw two strange apparitions rise up through the golden tiles.

The figures were vaguely familiar, but she didn't have time to think where she'd seen them before.

Then something was lofted up at her.

Instinctively, she ducked.

And then a great white light flared, blinding everyone in the cabin.

A moment later, when their vision cleared, the living seascape had vanished.

Only a dark smudge on the golden tiles remained to mark the spot where the battle for the Nepenthe had raged.

Rhodes whirled to face the witch. His features were swollen and red with anger. He'd seen exactly who those two magical creatures were.

"Dammit, mother," he roared. "I told you so! Maybe it's about time you started listening to me!"

Clayre was astounded. "Why, whatever are you talking about, son?" she asked.

"The mural, mother!" he snarled. "You said not to worry about it. But by the gods who torment us, it's come back to haunt us again!"