powerful of wizards cannot bend to his will.' The laughter boomed again, this time more forceful, echoing from the stone walls and filling the room with sound.
'The riddle of the ultimate precept.' Alodar forced his voice through the din. 'Ask him if it is no more than a cleverly worded ruse on the part of Elezar the prince to seek again control of the realm of men?'
'Elezar, the one who is golden, is but a few time-ticks away from being but a memory,' the voice answered through the flame. 'His domain is gone, dissipated into a fine dust that slowly drifts in the realm. Only one dark node remains his to command and soon it too will be found. I will record in my domain his many exploits; but, except for that, he will soon be forgotten like the rest. His only hope lies in looking elsewhere-elsewhere in a realm for which I alone have calculated the identity.'
'Then where is this place?' Alodar persisted.
'Will you agree to bring back to me the pollen of the giant harebell flower in exchange for what I will tell?'
'I will make no-' Alodar began.
'Yes,' Phoebe interrupted. 'Yes, tell us and we will go.'
'No, you have no authority,' Alodar cut back in. 'Wait, Palodad. Only I am-'
This time the words of the archimage were put off by a second blast of radiation from the hearth. A billowing ball of orange flame rolled into the room, pushing Kestrel backward and to the side. A heavy black smoke coursed along the stone floor and an acrid smell stung Kestrel's nose. He saw a large brown djinn stoop to enter the room from the fireplace, thick scales covering limbs that pulsed with tight muscles. The tips of leathery wings scraped against the slope of the ceiling, the fire behind shining through between a network of blackened veins. A single row of coarse hair sat atop eyes deep-set in rugged and angular bone. Tiny nostrils flared with each breath above a mouth distorted to the side in a permanent sneer.
'I am Camonel.' The demon's deep voice rumbled much louder than it had on the other side of the flame. 'Palodad instructs me to transport whomever you have selected into the realm of the fey.'
'The fey,' Alodar said. 'What manner of place is that?'
Camonel's deep laugh again filled the room with sound. 'You men know of it in your fantasies. Underhill kingdoms, trilling pipes with melancholy airs, creatures you think no larger than the smallest imps.'
'Not the realm of the fey,' Astron interrupted. 'They are all wizards, every one. It is no place for a cataloguer who is merely striving to serve his prince. Why can it not be someplace gentle, as is the realm of men?'
'I am ready,' Phoebe said. With her chin thrust high, she stepped forward to where the djinn stood in front of the hearth.
'Wait,' Kestrel heard himself shout. 'Wait, Phoebe, this is madness. Think of what you are doing. You cannot follow that monster, aided by no more than the likes of Astron.'
'Why, I did not intend to.' Phoebe looked back. 'It is to be the three of us, just as from the beginning.'
Kestrel lunged to a halt and stared. This indeed was madness. The affairs of archimage and demon prince might be of great importance to some, but they were no concern of his. Let some other so-called hero step forth for the honor and the glory. In the end, the rewards would turn to bitter ashes. The one who jumped through the hoops would find that he had been manipulated merely for the benefit of others who would not take the risks themselves. This was no role for Kestrel the woodcutter. There was nothing whatever in the bargain for him.
Kestrel looked at Phoebe as she slowly drew closer to the waiting djinn, her nose clamped shut to hold out the pungent odor. His thoughts tumbled in confusion. He was here only to clear his name and perhaps win a few pieces of gold from the archimage so he could boast of it in the tavern.
But there was Phoebe as well. Her life probably was forfeit as soon as the leathery wings closed around her willing frame. He thought of his rescue from the foundry of the alchemist, the pleasure when she had pressed against his side, and her insistence in seeing good in him when there was none to be found.
While Kestrel hesitated, there was a sudden commotion at the door. Four wizards in sweat-dampened robes burst into the room. 'There they are,' the first one shouted. 'The very ones who conspired to cheat the august council of Brythia. Come forward, Maspanar and the rest. We have caught them at last.'
Alodar looked sharply at the intrusion, but before he could speak, the high windows along the wall above the doorway shattered in a spray of tiny shards. Two demons almost as large as the one in the hearth plunged into the room, circling overhead with crackles of blue flame pulsing from their fingertips.
One of the wizards who rushed in added his voice to the commotion. 'Please forgive the interruption, master archimage. Forgive the interruption, but we come to rectify a great wrong to our craft.'
'Yes, and since I have had time to ponder it,' another one said, 'I recognize the one bearing the rucksack from before-some five years ago in Laudia to the south.' He pointed at Kestrel, his face beet-red with anger. 'A swindle then of my hard-won gold, just as it was at her cabin. Do not be deceived, archimage. Their words are smooth, but carry not a word of truth, not even the ones of the demons that they command.'
One of the wizards raced up to Phoebe and tugged at her robe from behind. Kestrel slapped his arm away. He looked into her eyes and saw her bold composure begin to falter in the confusion. Stepping to the side, he barely missed a searing bolt of blue that crackled from above and sputtered the hard stone at his feet into a bubbly slag.
He saw Alodar move toward Phoebe as well and made up his mind. 'It is because of her and no one else,' he yelled above the noise of the others. 'For her alone, do you understand. Not for the sake of great princes or the well-being of mankind. Only for Phoebe am I doing this. The rest of you matter no more than you did before.'
He grabbed Phoebe firmly about the waist. Desperately, he put the thoughts of what might be even worse than smacking lips and soaring lithons out of his mind. Closing his eyes, he pushed her forward toward Camonel's chest. He felt a smothering heaviness on his back as the wings closed around them and Astron's elbow pressed painfully into his side. Almost absently, he grasped the book the demon thrust at him and shoved it over his shoulder into his rucksack. He reeled from the dizziness. Reality seemed to spin. The last thing he remembered was the words of the archimage:
'If they escape, I want the word broadcast even across the sea. Apprehend them at all costs and bring them back. There is to be no place in the realm of men where safety will be theirs.'
PART THREE
CHAPTER TWELVE
ASTRON watched the djinn vanish back into the flame. He glanced at Kestrel and Phoebe and saw what he more or less expected. Both stood transfixed in wide-eyed wonder. He remembered how his own stembrain had seized control on his first visit and how he had barely hid in time.
The trio stood next to one of three small fires, beside a stream that flowed between the gently rising slope of a rustic glade. The hillsides were covered with a carpet of thick grass, each blade the size of Astron's legs. Scattered here and there were huge flowers of red and gold, towering into the sky on giant stems from clumps of thick foliage. The proportions were all wrong, but in the realm of men they would be called foxglove, white-thorne, primrose, and thyme. A ring of mushrooms, each as big as a small hut, circled the hillsides in a single precise line halfway up the slopes. On the crests, the flowering bushes merged into a thick forest of glistening leaves.
No one else appeared to be present, but behind them on the bank stood a large granite-gray boulder with what looked like a wooden door in the side. The trilling of distant pipes blended with the sigh of a gentle breeze.
Astron pointed to the hillcrest. Gently, he guided the other two upward and into the shadowy cover. They moved perhaps fifty steps and then ducked beneath a low-lying leaf that was easily the size of the largest djinn.
