But the warriors now entered the palace and did not emerge. They remained there, prisoners of the invader, Cordell. The captain-general had loudly proclaimed that sacrifice was now forbidden, and none knew why he gathered the warriors to himself.
Gultec could not make himself rise. He sat in the garden until night fell, and then waited throughout the long hours of darkness for the soldiers to come and take him. When he resisted, they would kill him.
Inside the warrior, a great, caged feline paced angrily back and forth, growling and snarling at the confining bars. But outwardly Gultec showed no expression, moved no muscle for the many hours of night. The pacing became a restless obsession, though still with no outward display.
And with the passing of hours, he knew that even his enemies had forgotten him. His destiny had been destroyed on the battlefield, crushed by the might of his enemy. Now that enemy would not even grant him the dignity of a warrior's death.
His life finished, Gultec rose and left the garden under the rosy glow of dawn. He did not turn toward the palace. Instead, he went south, out of the city and through the cleared fringe of fields. At full daylight, he reached the jungle's edge.
Now a great spotted cat sprang into the middle branches of the trees, above the choking growth along the ground. Supple muscles rippled under the smooth pelt, and bright yellow eyes probed the greenery for the sight of game. The great cat was hungry.
And Gultec was free.
Footprints marched steadily down the beach, appearing one after another to mark the track of the invisible stalker. Helmstooth, Halloran's silver longsword, swung about three feet above the ground, just as if a human warrior held the weapon at the ready. Like the needle of a compass, it swung tentatively for a bit, then quickly steadied in the direction of its quarry.
The stalker possessed inhuman patience and tenacity. It could only be drawn to a physical world such as this one by the command of a powerful wizard. The stalker was compelled by the summoning spell to perform the task assigned, and so it searched for the man named Halloran. Not until it found him and completed the command would it be free of the wizard's will.
It had searched the battlefield of Ulatos for hours before finally locating the spoor. The man had mounted a horse, and the steed had thwarted the stalker's previous efforts at detection.
But now it followed that horse along the beach, and the footprints and sword made steady progress. Suddenly they stopped as the stalker sought a spoor invisible and undetectable to mortal senses.
Then the footprints turned from the beach and entered the jungle. Leaves rustled, as if to mark the passage of a short burst of wind, and soon the sword danced toward the entrance of a rocky grotto. Within, it sensed the dying coals of a fire.
And its quarry.
Cordell pried the gold nugget from the belly of the delicately carved turquoise statue. He freed the metal and let the statue drop and smash on the hard stone of the plaza. Placing the heavy nugget between two of his molars, he grinned as the pliable metal conformed slightly to the pressure of his bite.
Though the time was past midnight, great bonfires lit the plaza and the men of the legion showed no weariness as they watched more and more gold brought before them. Like Cordell, they tore the golden elements from artwork, compressed wiry statues into compact lumps of metal, and pulled the feathers and shells from delicate pictures embroidered with gold.
Long into the night, the captain-general toiled at his enjoyable task, until finally fatigue claimed him. He would meet with the assessor in the morning, and for once he looked forward to the meeting.
Halloran sat up in alarm, his magical dream forgotten even though the soft light still washed through the grotto. Corporal stood nearby, growling softly. The legionnaire listened to the distant howling, carried by the night breeze, and the sound sent an uncontrolled shiver down his spine.
'Erix?' he called softly. 'Wake up.'
She sat up quickly, and he sensed that she had already been awake for a little while. 'Do you recognize that sound?' he asked.
'No…' She looked at him, and he had never seen her so frightened. 'Is that more of your monsters?'
He shook his head and cast a glance at Corporal. 'Greyhounds don't bay when they follow a trail. When they do bark, it doesn't sound anything like that.' The musical, mournful cry again ululated through the night, still distant but intensely menacing.
'But you made this light, did you not?'
'Yes… that's one of the magic spells I told you about. I don't know if I could do it again. I was having a dream, and when I woke I cast it.'
Erix looked around, her expression a mixture of fear and wonder. The cool white light filled the narrow niche, reflecting softly off the rocky walls. They had slept comfortably in the sheltered grotto, Hal wrapped in the blanket and Erix in her plain cotton mantle. But now neither of them wanted to rest.
The howling came again, noticeably nearer. Hal recalled the various powers and enchantments available to the Bishou or Darien, wondering if this might be the work of one of the spellcasters. 'I think we'd better move on,' he suggested. Erix was already up, rolling her mantle into a tight bundle.
Halloran lashed his backpack, blanket, and other supplies to Storm while Erix quickly splashed some water on herself. She joined him beside the horse as he was examining something from his pack.
'What is that? Water?' Erix asked, seeing a large vial in Hal's hand. He held two smaller bottles in his other hand.
'No. They're magic potions of some kind. I took them when I escaped from the ship. I don't know why I did. Magic gives me the willies.'
Erix's brows knitted. 'What do they do?'
The howling echoed again, still distant. Corporal paced nervously while Hal thought about his answer.
'I don't know for sure. You drink them, and something magic happens. The labels explain it all, I'm sure, but I've never seen writing like this.'
'Perhaps you should throw them away,' urged the woman quietly. 'We don't need them, and what if they're dangerous?'
'Oh, I don't know,' Halloran said airily. 'They might come in handy.' He set the two small bottles back in the pack and unstoppered the large one. Squinting into the bottle first, he raised it and took a short sip.
'Halloran!'
When Erix screamed, Hal quickly dropped the bottle and spat. He fumbled to push the cork back in, wondering why he couldn't see the bottle. Come to think of it, he couldn't see his hands, either. He was invisible!
'Halloran? Where are you?' Erix whirled around, panicking.
'It's — it's all right. I'm right here.' Already his form began to grow visible, and in moments, he looked normal again. 'This is a potion of invisibility! I didn't take enough to do more than fade for a second, but if we need to, we can drink a dose and disappear!'
'Forever?' Erix was clearly dubious.
'No… for an hour or two, I suppose. I know they're only temporary, but I haven't had much experience with potions.' He reached for one of the small bottles.
'Wait!' urged Erix. 'It does seem that they may be useful, but let's leave the others for a later time. We should be moving on now.'
The howling abruptly faded, changing in pitch and volume. They could still hear it, but it did not seem so imminent.
Corporal suddenly growled and sprang to his feet. A gust of wind swirled through the grotto, rippling the stream water and rustling the grass along the bank. Hal looked up but saw nothing, even though light still washed their camp. Once more the howling echoed in the distance. Then Corporal barked loudly.
The sound saved Halloran's life. He whirled to look behind him just in time to see a silver sword driving toward his throat. Twisting away, he leaped to his feet. A sudden wind blazed the dull coals of the fire back to
