Wolves of the Gods

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Coralean paced the docks, rumbling, "We must go, my friends! Hurry, hurry!"

And Leiria shouted, "By the gods, Coralean, you'll wait! Or I'll cut out your greedy innards to feed the fish."

Palimak listened to them argue, feeling cold and apart from the scene. He already knew the answer, but was too frightened to voice it. He turned away, looking out over the Caspan harbor where the hired ships were sagging under the weight of all the Kyranians and their goods. The airship hovered over the refugee fleet, engines fired up and ready to go.

Only three tarried on the shore, Coralean and Leiria, pacing and arguing and waving their hands, while Palimak listened, gathering his nerve to speak.

"We must wait for Safar!" Leiria said. Then she pleaded. "Just a little bit more, Coralean. Give him a chance."

She pointed at the distant mountains that ringed the port city of Caspan. A thick column of yellow smoke rose up from the lands beyond. "You only have to look at that," she said, "to know that he destroyed the machine."

Coralean nodded. "Granted," he said. "And we also have the word of several wise priests to support what our eyes want to believe."

"Then Safar must live!" Leiria said.

Coralean shook his shaggy head. "Alas, my good Captain Leiria," he said, "that does not necessarily follow. In fact, those same priests said when the machine was destroyed it was impossible for anyone to have survived the holocaust that resulted."

"Safar said he had a way," Leiria insisted. "He was sure he would live."

The caravan master sighed. "This quarrel grieves me deeply, Captain Leiria," he said. "Safar was my friend as well. And he was not so certain of success as he apparently led you to believe. Perhaps he was trying to spare you, which would be so like him. However-and this is a most important however-Safar and I agreed that I would wait for three days. Those three days have now passed. And so, tragic as this realization is to one so tender as I, we must assume that our good friend, our most beloved friend, Safar Timura, is dead. And we must carry on for him."

"To hells with your agreement," Leiria said. "Safar could be riding to us now." She gestured at a hill overlooking the harbor. "Any moment now he could appear over that rise."

Palimak's eyes went to the hill, praying with all his strength that what Leiria had said would suddenly be so. And his father would appear, sitting tall and proud on a prancing Khysmet. Both man and horse eager to face whatever the Fates had in store for them.

Then Gundara said, "He's not coming, Little Master."

"That's definitely true," Gundaree added. "No sign of him at all."

Palimak gulped back tears. Then he hardened himself. Squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin.

"That's enough!" he said to Leiria and Coralean.

The two turned to him, surprised at his sudden interruption.

Palimak said, "My father told us not to wait." He shrugged. "So I guess we'd better not wait."

He turned and started walking toward a skiff tied up at the shore. Leiria caught up to him, grabbing his arm.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded. "We're speaking of your own father!"

Palimak looked up at her, smiling gently. Demon eyes glowing yellow as he cast the spell.

"I love you, Aunt Leiria," he said. "But we have to go to Syrapis."

And so they flew away on bully winds blowing all the way from far Kyrania.

Where up, up in the mountains the stars are setting and the High Caravans greet the Dawn of Nothing.

Up to where the eagle cries over a ruined land that was once a paradise.

Oh, make haste!