caused the tip to broaden and become killing sharp. He caused the weapon he'd made to fly straight and true. And he caused the spear to pierce the leather armor and thick demon skin and then burst that demon's heart.
The demon fell, releasing the girl. His mount veered wide but the force of the charge carried her body forward and she slammed into Safar. His breath whooshed out. As the two tumbled into the snow together the girl flung her arms around him, fastening him in a grip made strong by fear.
Safar's breath returned and he tore away from her grasp and leaped up. The scene was madness. Demons were hewing left and right, killing men and animals without discrimination. But in that madness Safar saw the caravan master had managed to rally a small group that was beginning to fight back. His immense body weaved this way and that as he dodged blows and kicked his horse toward one of the demons. Safar gasped as another demon charged in from the side, bearing down on the caravan master with a battle ax. Before the demon could strike Safar saw a tall figure leap from a felled wagon.
It was Iraj!
His legs scissored open as he vaulted onto the saddle behind the demon, then closed to grip the mount's flanks with the ease of a practiced plains rider.
Iraj flung one arm around the demon's head, heaving to draw it backand he plunged a dagger into the exposed throat.
It was then Safar learned that demons die hard.
The creature gouted bright red blood, but reached for Iraj, talons scything out. Iraj somersaulted off the saddle just in time, landing on his feet and drawing his scimitar as he came up. The wounded demon rolled off and rushed at Iraj, fouling the snow with his bloodspray.
Iraj stepped forward to meet him but his foot slipped and he fell face forward. The demon was on him, raising his ax to kill his fallen enemy before his own life drained away.
Once again all time slowed for Safar. This time it wasn't only magic that came to his aid. His sling was suddenly in one hand. With the other he was withdrawing a heavy clay ball from his shot pouch.
Then time jumped and the demon's ax was descending.
Time froze again as Safar loaded his sling and swung it about his head.
He let loose just before the demon's blade struck. The ball caught the beast full in the mouth and Safar cursed, for he'd aimed at the killing spot between the demon's eyes. His fingers suddenly turned numb, betraying him as he fumbled for another clay ball. But it wasn't necessary.
The monster sagged back… slowly, so slowly… then toppled over into the snow.
The demon tried to struggle up on one elbow. Safar drew his knife and raced over to finish him off.
But then the demon looked at him, freezing him with his strange yellow eyes.
'I should have killed the human myself, the demon said. Bad luck all around.'
Then blood burst from his mouth and he fell back, dead.
Too fired by the battle to wonder what the creature meant, Safar rushed over to Iraj to help him to his feet. As he bent down, back unprotected, a huge shadow fell over him. He looked up, thinking he'd see the face of death. Relief flooded in when he saw a bearded human face peering at him instead of a demon's. And it was an ordinary horse the man sat upon, not a monster with fangs and claws.
The caravan master's gaze went from Safar to Iraj.
'Thank you for my life, young fellow, he said to Iraj. If the gods are kind and Coralean survives this day you will learn just how much I value my skin.'
Then he spurred his mount back into the action. But now the winds of fortune had shifted and it was the demons who were being routed and slain.
Safar's relief lasted only the length of time it took for Iraj to leap to his feet.
'There's more, Safar! he cried. It's not over yet!'
And Safar remembered the othermuch largerforce waiting in the ravine.
No sooner had memory wormed its cold way through the mud of his confusion then he heard the shrill ululation announcing the second attack. His head shot up and he saw the demons beginning to pour out of the mouth of the ravine.
'Stop them! Iraj shouted.
Safar gaped. Had his friend gone mad? How was he supposed to accomplish that?
'You can do it! Iraj said. I know you can!'
Then all questions and fear dissolved and he saw quite clearly that Iraj was right. He could stop them.
Once again he gripped his sling. Once again he reached into his pouch. But instead of a heavy ball his fingers touched the pot shard he'd taken from the cave. The shard that bore the picture of Hadin, the land of fire. A shock of magic clamped his fingers closed.
Instinctively letting the moment rule, Safar didn't fight the magic. He drew the shard out and carefully inserted it into his sling. He swung the weapon about his head, eyes searching for a target. He saw an immense demon leading the charge out of the ravine. But it wasn't that demon he wanted. One death would accomplish nothing.
He had to kill them all.
His eyes were drawn up and once again he noted the heavy snow clinging to the sides of the ravine. In his mind he also saw the rotten slate beneath that snow. And then the mass of boulders hanging above the frozen incline the ravine bisected. He knew what to do.
Whirling the sling, Safar pictured the pottery shard in his mind, chanting:
You were made in fire And within you fire Yet remains. It grows from spark To finger flame To kiln fire. And now I release you… Fly free! Fly free!
And he let loose the missile.
When Sarn led his demons out to fight he knew he'd already failed.
Moments after Giff had attacked a sudden blast of sorcery had seared the air. It wasn't directed toward him, but it was so strong it rasped his senses. Fear iced his heart and he thought, there must be a wizard with the caravan. How could I have missed him?
Then he'd seen Giff go down and a humana mere stripling at thatstanding over him. Sarn goggled. This was the wizard?
But there was no mistaking the aura of raw power radiating from the stripling. It was so strong it had swept away Sarn's spell of cowardice and the human soldiers were already rallying. One part of him insisted this was impossible. No human was capable of such magic. The other part took stock, recognized that impossible or not there the boy stood with all the magic he needed at his command.
Sarn saw instantly his only hope was to strike while an element of surprise still remained. Any moment now the caravan master and his soldiers would realize a threat still remained in the ravine. With the young wizard's help Sarn and his demons would be trapped in this all-too-perfect ambush.
If he were lucky he'd merely be killed. If not, he'd be captured. And he'd be damned if let himself fall into the foul hands of a human.
So he made the signal. Heard his fiends shrill their battle song. And he booted his mount forward into the attack.
As he charged from the ravine Sarn saw that the stripling wizard was already in action, whirling a loaded sling about his head and searching for a target. Just then the boy looked directly at Sarn. A chill scuttled up the demon's spine. It was as if he were being measured for the grave.
Then the human let lose and Sarn laughed because he saw immediately that the human was off his mark. The missile was arcing high into the air instead of towards him. Wizard or not, he thought, the boy was a coward. Fear had spoiled his aim.
Then the missile sailed over his head, a strong current of sorcery rippling the air, and his laughter was choked off.
The boy was no coward. His aim had been true.
Sarn's last thought was that Giff had been right. The king had lied.
Now that lie was about to cost Sarn his life.
