Safar smiled as the shard sailed over the lead demon's head.
Then, in midflight it exploded into a ball of flame. The back-blasting heat was so intense it scorched his face. But he didn't shrink away. Instead he watched the fiery ball loft upward toward the big snowy brow that frowned over the mouth of the ravine. It sailed farther than he normally had strength to fling any object. He noted this with casual interest, not amazement.
Safar felt as if he were standing several feet away from his own body, calmly studying his own reactions as well as the course of the flaming missile. His separate self found it oddly amusing to see the ball of magical fire slam into the frozen ridge. It was even more amusing to note the wild joy in the boy's eyes who had made it.
A explosion shook the ridge and with calculated interest Safar pondered whether the force of the blast would be enough.
As the frozen mass began peel off, he thought, Hmm. Yes, it was… But will it have the effect I desire?
The mass crashed down onto still another ridge below.
And Safar thought, The snow and ice will shatter. But what of the shale? And if so, will the weight of the whole create a still larger force?
An avalanche was his answer.
Shale and ice and snow thundered down on the demons, moving so fast it overtook them in midcharge.
The boiling wave of snow and ice and rock swallowed them from behind, gobbling them up with an awful hunger. Then all was obscured by an immense white cloud.
Safar stood there, waiting. Then the avalanche ended and a silence as thick as the cold blinding cloud settled over him.
The mist cleared and the only thing Safar could see in the sun's sudden bright light was a broad white expanse running to the edge of a blank-faced cliff that had once been cut by a deep ravine.
Safar nodded, satisfied. The experiment had gone quite well, he thought. Then, still in his mode of the cold observer, he began to wonder about himself. The boy who'd just killed all those living beings. They were demons, of course, and deserved to die. Still.
Still.
Then someone was pounding his back and he turned to find Iraj, pounding, and was babbling congratulations of some sort. The first emotion that thawed Safar's numb interior was annoyance.
He pushed at Iraj's arm. Quit that, he said. It hurts.'
Iraj stopped. Safar was surprised to see awe as well as joy on his friend's face.
'You did it, Safar! Iraj shouted. You killed them all!'
The numbness thawed more and Safar was suddenly frightened. Quiet, he said. Someone will hear.'
'Who cares? Iraj said. Everyone should hear!'
Safar clutched Iraj's arm. Promise you will say nothing, he pleaded.
Iraj shook his head, bewildered by the request.
'Promise me, Safar insisted. Please!'
After a long moment Iraj nodded. I promise, he said. You're insane to ask it, but I promise just the same.'
Then Safar was struck by a wall of weariness that seemed as great as the avalanche. Iraj caught him as he collapsed and then darkness sucked him down and he knew nothing more.
Terrible nightmares inhabited that darkness.
Safar dreamed he was pursued by demon riders across a rocky plain. He ran as fast as he could, leaping ravines and even canyons, dodging falling boulders, bounding over thundering avalanches. The sky was aboil with storm clouds and the sun dripped on the landscape, turning it blood red. And no matter how fast he ran the demon riders were faster.
Suddenly he was naked. He was still running, but now shame mingled with his fright. The demon riders converged on him, cutting in from the sides. Their shrill ululations drove every thought from his head until only fear remained. The demons hurled their spears and Safar saw they were spears of crackling lightning. They struck, burning and jolting his body with awful, painful shocks.
Then the demons were gone and Safar was running on soft grass and the sun was a cheery yellow, the breeze gentle on his naked flesh. He came to a hollow where Naya and the other goats gamboled and drank from the sweet waters of a spring. His mouth was suddenly dry and he knelt among the goats to quench a burning thirst.
And Naya said to him, What have you done, boy?'
'Nothing Little Mother, Safar answered.
But she stuck a lightning bolt in his heart and the lie hurt almost more than he could bear.
The other goats gathered around, baying accusations.
'He's been out killing, one said.
'Our Safar? another asked.
'Yes, said another. Our Safar has been killing.'
'Is this true, boy? Naya asked, disgust in her tones.
'They were only demons, Little Mother, he answered.
'Shocking, the other goats said.
'But they were attacking the caravan, he protested.
'Oh, Safar, Naya said. I'm so ashamed of you. She butted him, knocking him down. Sharp stones jabbed into his buttocks. I suppose you used magic, Naya said.
'I couldn't help it, Little Mother, he confessed. Honestly I couldn't.'
Then Naya rose on her hind legs and became Quetera, his pregnant sister. She was wearing a long white gown, swollen at the belly with new life.
'Naya says you've been out killing, his sister said. And using magic to do it.'
He didn't answer.
'Look at me, Safar, his sister said.
'I can't, he said. I'm ashamed.'
He pointed down. There was a demon's body at her feet.
'Did you do this, Safar? she asked.
'I had no choice, Quetera! he cried. They were killing people. He pointed at the demon. He was going to kill the girl.'
Quetera's face suddenly turned kindly. Poor Safar, she said. Such a gentle lad. But now violence and death have found you. And they may never let you go.'
Safar groaned and collapsed on the ground. He heard his sister come closer.
He smelled her perfume as she knelt down to comfort him. Let me take you home, Safar, she said.
He tried to get up but he couldn't rise. His limbs were numb and all he could do was groan.
Then cool water touched his temples. A soft wet cloth wiped his face and he felt as if all his sins were being sponged away.
And he was thirsty. By the gods he was thirsty! He opened his mouth. Not water, but cool milk dribbled in and he lapped it like a hungry kitten.
'Safar, a voice said. It was gentle and as soothing as that milk. Safar, it said again.
He floated out of the blackness to find a lovely face peering down at him. Dark, almond-shaped eyes full of sweet concern. Long black hair tumbling down like a silken scarf. Lips red and ripe, smoothed into a smile displaying teeth as white as the Snow Moon.
'Who are you? he mumbled, weak.
The smile became sweeter still. I'm Astarias, she said.
'Do I know you? he asked.
She laughed. It sounded like distant music. You do, now, she said. I'm the girl whose life you saved.'
