prophecy sprang to mind: 'The Dragon of the West and the Stallion of the East shall meet, and the dust of their fury shall eclipse the skies.'
Star was dragged up and backward by her friends. The trio plunged into the panicked crowd, and the men shielded Star from falling under stampeding sandals. Up until now, Amenstar had been too enthralled and too stunned to feel fear, but as she saw the dragon clearly terror chilled her heart.
Dragons had plagued Calimshan for centuries, but this grotesque flying giant might have been specially conjured to ravage Cursrah. The dragon was plated with scales of a deep shining black-blue, but the largest scales on its back and haunches were curiously edged in white, as if painted with half-moons. Its tail had been sharpened into a sickle, and even the major horn on the dragon's nose recalled a white crescent moon.
'It's a moon dragon,' Star cried. 'Surely the gods must curse our moonstruck city! Cursrah is doomed!'
Gheqet and Tafir shouldered through the crowd to seek shelter between tall buildings. Behind came a tremendous crunching and shattering as the Temple of Shar was stove in by an errant tail. New shrieks made them look up.
Bathed in moonlight, glowing blue and silver as the moon itself, the dragon scooped air with its ragged wings. The sacrificial white ox dangled from curved fore claws. Steadily, the dragon dwindled into the distance.
'I'm glad to see that thing go,' breathed Tafir.
'It'll be back,' Gheqet panted. 'That's the first dragon attack since the Great Arrival. Jassan, our invisible air guardian, must have deserted us too. All the genies have left Cursrah to its fate!'
'What fate?' demanded Tafir.
'Our fates are to separate, for now.' Numb to horror, Amenstar straightened her clothes and hair. Forcing calm, the samira announced, 'I must return to the palace. My family will need me in these trials. You should return home too, and see what your parents plan. They may wish to-to leave Cursrah.' Her voice faltered on the last.
'Is that wise?' asked Gheqet. 'Your family might be, uh-'
'Uh, miffed that you ran off,' finished Tafir.
'When are they not?' breezed Amenstar. 'They're an unsmiling bunch. I'll just talk quickly, pile on apologies, and be forgiven. There is no time to punish me now.'
In the moon-striped shadows of the alley, Amenstar spoke lightly, but fear gnawed her belly. For the first time she faced the mind-numbing notion that Cursrah might really fall, cease to exist, and be swept from history. The princess couldn't imagine Cursrah ending any more than the sun winking out, yet it might.
She remembered the last time she'd rebelled by spoiling her coming-out ball. Her parents' punishment had been heavy and painful. She shuddered to think of drowning, then shook it off with regal poise.
'Never fear. We'll meet again soon. Here, hold still.' Star surprised both men by catching their faces and pecking their lips. She'd never kissed them before, had barely touched them. Gheqet and Tafir were too stunned to respond, and the lovely young lady laughed at their confusion.
'Take care, please. You're my best friends, my only friends.' Her voice broke. Before they could see her tears, Star dashed off.
Panicked citizens ran in all directions, mindless as chickens in the shadow of a hawk. Aloof, Star strode up a short street toward a bridge that gave access to the Palace of the Phoenix. Four glowering guards barred the way. Around the palace, torches glittered redly on the dome's gold roof, and flickered in reflection in the moat, which had sunk so low slimy rocks jutted from the bottom.
Almost a peaceful scene, Amenstar thought, but the sparse water spoke of tragedy to come. The princess took a deep breath as she marched up to the guards. Emotions swirled and welled so large in her breast she thought she might choke. If her world ended, what could take its place?
A spear-wielding sergeant raised a hand and called, 'Halt, citizen, no one is-oh! Your Majesty…'
Star had dropped her scarf. Immediately the guards snapped to attention, but then, as if confused, stamped forward like automatons to surround the small woman.
Puzzled, Star looked at her human prison and asked, 'Sergeant, what's the meaning-'
'Samira Amenstar,' interrupted the sergeant, 'in the name of the bakkal, I place you under arrest.'
The royal family's compound proved as tumultuous as the streets. In wing after sprawling wing, candlelight was as brilliant as the outside night was black. Star trotted to keep up, for the guards evidently had orders to rush her once found. Clerks and maids and junior officials and vizars hurried hither and thither, aimless as Cursrah's citizens.
At a corridor intersection, a tall vase had crashed in porcelain splinters, and no servants cleaned it up, so shards crunched underfoot. Somehow this simple, messy lapse worried Star, for all her life the royal mansions had been immaculate. Her heart began to thump so hard her breath came short.
Rounding a corridor, two guards almost overran Tunkeb. Star's second sister was a younger but taller edition of their mother. Tunkeb's head jerked when she beheld the prisoner, then she trotted alongside, happy to needle her worst rival.
'You're in terrible trouble, Star!' twittered Tunkeb. 'Papa and Mama are furious. They blame you for all our troubles. Vrinda is gone. She's been the royal administrator since forever, but as soon as a cook reported the water had run out, Vrinda clapped her hands and disappeared in a puff of red smoke that set fire to a tapestry in the west wing-and our elder brothers are dead! They were assassinated by the Hatori, and all your bodyguards are dead. They were-'
'My bodyguards?' Star skidded to a halt, but the guards simply shoved along, so she trotted again asking, 'Why?'
'They were executed,' Tunkeb, both shocked and gleeful, reported, 'because you sneaked away. Father's strongest soldiers chopped off their heads in your courtyard. They had to kneel and offer their necks-even M'saba, your rhinaur. They had to stand on a pedestal to chop off her head, and it took four blows. Captain Anhur-they made her watch her troop die, then she was trussed up and flogged to death. They threw all the bodies into your fishpond and the water turned red with blood. You're in dire straits…'
Tears spilling down her cheeks, head roaring, Amen-star heard no more as her escort whisked her into an opulent waiting room adjacent to her parents' wing. Tunkeb was stopped at the door. Amenstar's father and mother were in conference with the wizened grand vizar in her heavy turban. The vizar-in-waiting and other clerics stood nearby like a flock of vultures, all in dark brown robes with shaven, branded skulls.
Star was announced. The bakkal and first sama turned, and their daughter trembled to see their deep-cut frowns.
The bakkal barked, 'Kneel!'
Before Star could comply, two guards mashed her down so fast her knees smacked the marble floor. More than the shooting pains, Star was frightened by her father's speaking to her, an unprecedented event. Always Star's mother had relayed his wishes, for the bakkal communed mainly with gods and ancient ancestors. Perhaps, Amenstar shuddered, she were already counted among the dead.
'Samira Amenstar, you are exposed as a harbinger of chaos.' The bakkal's voice was ancient, though he was not an old man, and deep, as if issuing from a tomb. 'Calim's charges have deserted Cursrah. Even now a dragon, unseen for centuries, ravages the marketplace. Our water is cut off and cannot be restored, so our city dies. The grand vizar has ordered the temples shut, for even the gods have abandoned us… even our Mistress of the Moon, who has smiled on Cursrah for eons. Now only Shar will receive us to her bosom, in the unplumbed bowels of the Underdark-'
'I am sorry-' Star began, but her hair was wrenched from behind, so she shut up.
'The end of the end has come,' continued the bakkal. 'Cursrah embraces death. So too will Cursrah's royal family, for we are the city's heart and soul. All of us will die, to one day live again. All but you.'
In the ominous pause, Star's teeth chattered. She couldn't have spoken a word to save her life.
'For you, Star of Cursrah, Daughter of Disaster, the vizars ready a fate worse than death…'
13
The Year of the Gauntlet
