Tarn whined. Mika turned his head and commanded him to leave, but the wolf ignored him, as did the princess and RedTail, all of them staying out of reach of the guards' spears. They continued to follow.
In spite of desperate ploys, none of which worked, they came at last to the very peak of the pyramid. It was not pointed at the top as Mika had thought, but flat, with enough room for a large, white, stone altar.
The altar had a deep groove cut in one side, and it was darkly stained. Blood, thought Mika. My blood soon.
The guards wrestled him forward, holding Hornsbuck and Lotus Blossom one level lower. Hornsbuck was only just regaining consciousness. A trickle of blood coursed down his face, and he wobbled unsteadily between his captors. Lotus Blossom still struggled against the four guards who held her, throwing one, then another off balance, but they managed to hold her. The wolves circled behind, growling and snapping at the backs of legs, drawing blood and causing distraction.
Mika fought as best he could, struggling to stay away from the awful altar for as long as possible. He believed for the first time that there was nothing and no one to save him.
The sun was rising, more than half of the blood-red orb visible above the mountainous horizon. Dark, flat clouds streaked its surface, coloring the sky around it a sickly, ominous shade of sulfurous yellow.
The guards dragged Mika to the edge of the altar and ripped his doeskin tunic from his body, revealing the gemstone suspended from its gold chain, glittering blue and then green in the sullen glare of the rising sun.
The priest reached up and, though Mika twisted and turned and nearly hurled himsc'f and the two guards off the platform, he attempted to rip the gem- stone from Mika's neck. As his hand closed around the stone, Mika felt a surge of power course through his body. The priest stiffened, his back arching, hair standing out all around his head, eyes and tongue protruding. He stood poised on the tips of his toes for an endless heartbeat and Mika dared to hope that he was dead, but the priest's hand opened and he dropped the gemstone. Mika himself was unharmed and equally stunned at the strange occurrence.
At that moment,'with the priest still groggy, Mika sensed the princess crouching to spring. He cried out, 'No, stop! They'll just kill you!' The guards were still alert, spears held at the ready for such a maneuver. The wolf hunkered at the edge of the step, her leg muscles quivering, dewlaps twitching.
At the priest's command, the guards wrestled Mika face-up onto the altar, spread-eagled, holding his arms and legs down at all four edges of the altar. Mika pulled and strained against them, but they were strong and had performed this duty many times before. His muscles creaked with the strain, but he knew in his heart that it was hopeless.
The sun had cleared the horizon now, larger and redder than ever he had seen it. It rose above them until it seemed to Mika that it would surely strike the pyramid as it passed overhead. Mika stared at it, nearly hypnotized with the immensity of it.
Suddenly, he thought he saw a face!
Yes! There it was, an eye, no, two eyes like glowing carnelian, a nose wrapped in flames, and a mouth like a seething cauldron, opening, opening wide to eat him whole! Mika shrieked, struggling against the bonds as the mouth opened to consume him!
And then, seemingly out of nowhere, a ghostly apparition drifted toward the angry crimson orb, closer and closer with every heartbeat. It was the moon, wrapped in shimmering, gossamer, ethereal streamers that softened its outline and made its familiar shape somehow strange and otherworldly.
The raucous laughter and cheerful screams of those in the city below mingled with the rumble of falling buildings and rose to underscore the desperate scene.
'Great She-Wolf, mother of us all, help me. I promise to marry and be a better person if you'll only help me now. Please!' Mika prayed between gritted teeth.
'It is nearly time,' intoned the priest as he watched the shrouded moon approach the swollen sun. He turned to the edge of the altar and palmed something that Mika could not see; then he turned to face Mika, placing himself on Mika's left side and waited. His eyes glittered coldly, and he permitted himself a thin smile as he looked down on his victim.
The moon had begun to encroach upon the sun, seeming at first too small to affect it in any way, like a gnat nibbling on the toe of a giant. But it was relentless in its progress and soon, almost unbelievably, the sun was but a gibbous protuberance at the edge of the darkened moon.
The red glow faded, dulled bit by bit, until the air around them grew gray. Silence fell, along with the darkness, as even those in the crumbling city below became aware of the awful advent. Only the words of the priest were heard, unknown words, a litany of death in an unknown language. Raising his hand above his head, the priest chanted aloud, his words ringing harsh and clear in the gray, murky air, an offering-an appeasement-to the conflict above them.
As the moon continued to engulf the sun, driving the world into greater darkness, the priest's words rose to a shriek howled out against the wind, which had sprung up with no warning. The turbulence beat against the priest, threatening to topple him from his precarious perch, but he held fast, screaming the words into the dark wind. Now, now it came! As the moon moved into its final phase, devouring the slim sickle that remained of the sun, the priest's arm began to descend.
And then, magically, like winged saviors, the same strange figures Mika had seen from the window of the prison began to circle above them. But there was something familiar about them. He strained his eyes to watch them, avoiding looking at the movement of the priest's arm.
'Harpies,' yelled one of the guards who held Hornsbuck, following Mika's gaze. 'They take what is left of the offerings to Exag, the hollow bodies after the heart is gone. They cannot help you, my friend. Harpies help no one but themselves.'
The priest's hand continued to slice downward as the moon ate its way into the sun. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. As the priest's arm descended, Mika saw the flash of something bright, something metallic held in the man's hand.
But Mika was barely watching the priest, even though the nearness of his death could be measured in handspans. All of his attention was focused on the harpies, for now he was almost certain of something. The lead harpy was accompanied by a much smaller figure, and suddenly Mika knew that he was right.
He closed his eyes and concentrated as never before, his mind striving to remember the words to the mind- meld. In a burst of inspiration he added the charm spell, one he had used often on wavering maidens.
He forced his lips to utter the words, and then it was there, the blinding white flash, the link, the magic connection, and he was looking down at himself spread-eagled on the altar. Part of him saw himself through his own thoughts; the other part viewed the world through the thin, nictitating membrane of the circling harpy, felt the rush of cold, thin air through widespread feathered wings. A cold mind, harsh thoughts. Greed. Blood. Death. Thoughts of ripping flesh from bones. His flesh. His bones.
Then the charm spell struck and there was a second blinding, silvery flash filled with other thoughts, cartwheeling together in a melange of sexual ecstacy. Mika recoiled, shrieking 'no!' in his mind. But the other half of him cried 'yes!' and spiraled downward in a frenzy of anticipation.
The priest's hand was drawing closer, still gripped in the strange distortion of time.
'Save me!' Mika cried, all but screaming the message into the cold mind of the harpy. 'Save me, as I saved you and yours when no one else would help! Save me and mine! This I ask you in the name of honor and all that is fair!'
He felt the harpy hover undecided; then, as the priest's hand began its final plunge toward his heart, the harpy dived, too, plummeting like a rock, straight for the altar.
The knife point actually scored Mika's chest before the harpy struck, knocking the priest sideways, striking him full on the back of the neck. Mika heard the spine crack, saw the man's head fall to one side, still alive, but unable to control the body which no longer responded to his mental commands.
The guards were thrown into confusion and fell back from the huge, flailing wings and evil gaze. The harpy sliced Mika's bonds with her razor-sharp talons and then, gripping him by the shoulders, rose almost as quickly as she had descended.
The harpy rose vertically into the gray darkness, the sun now completely engulfed by the dark, viscous moon.
Mika writhed in the painful grip of the harpy's claws. His heart quailed, although still inside his breast, for which he was immensely thankful. As he watched all those who were dear to him shrink in the distance, he
