He stretched the moment to the fullest, then whipped out his silver dagger and jabbed its point at the jumble of bones. 'Speak, O great spirits!' he commanded. 'What is your answer?'
He waved the dagger and the bones floated off the platform. He motioned again and they reformed themselves, shifting from one pattern to the next, until finally they formed the skeletal head of a giant wolf.
'Speak!' Safar again commanded. 'Speak!'
There were wild shrieks of alarm as fire burst from the wolfhead's empty sockets. The big jaws grated open, unleashing a blood-chilling howl! Suddenly, the head flew forward-straight at Masura! Howling and snapping its jaws.
Masura ran away, screaming, 'Help me! Help me!' But everyone fled from his path, crying out in fear. At just the right moment Safar jabbed his dagger at the head and an explosion ripped the bones apart and they vanished into nothingness.
'There is your answer, my friends!' Safar shouted. 'Iraj will come! The Fates have decreed it!'
Masura realized he was safe and fell to his knees, babbling, 'Save us, Lord Timura! Save us!'
First Masura allies joined in, then the rest of the crowd, all shouting, 'Save us, Lord Timura! Save us!'
Safar had won. The victory disgusted him.
Another sin to add to his ledger.
It was a warm night, a night that drew roiling mists off the lake. Under the Demon Moon the mists made ominous shadows, deep oranges and reds bleeding through fantastic black figures that spilled over hollow and hill and got caught up in the branches of trees where owls waited to hoot at darkening skies.
In the village all the homes were shuttered and dark. The chimneys were cold, the cobbled streets empty and the only sound was the belly rumble of a llama and the long soft tramp of its feet.
Renor was leading the llama, an old thing who had seen more of life than she liked but pressed on anyway from habit. She was carrying a heavy load of thorny brush that shifted painfully from side to side as she walked. The llama groaned and Renor dodged just in time as she tried her best to step on his foot.
'Don't bother complaining, Granny,' Renor said. 'I won't feel sorry for you no matter what you do.' He shook his head at the swaying burden on her back. 'I did my best to tie it down tight. But you blew yourself up like an old horse and now all the knots are loose. It's your fault, not mine.'
The llama swung its head to the side, there was a rumble in its guts, and then it coughed up a good spit.
Once again Renor dodged to the side and a stream of smelly stuff splattered against an alley wall.
'Threats won't do you any good either, Granny,' Renor said, brushing away the few drops that had spattered onto his cloak. 'You'll still have to carry this load all the way to the fort. And if there's time you'll have to go back and fetch another.'
The llama grumbled in protest, but Renor was unmoved. 'I don't know why Lord Timura wants all this wood,' he said, 'but if he says to fetch it, and the more the better, then we'd
They rounded the corner and Renor saw the dark shape of the fort looming out of the gathering gloom.
The llama stopped its complaining and quickened its pace.
'Ho! So you go quickly now, do you?' Renor said. 'You think your day's work is over. Lazy old thing.'
He looked up at the Demon Moon, growing deeper red as night rushed in. 'I sure hope you're right,' he grudged. 'I don't want to go back out into this again.'
He thought of the huge mound of brush and timber already piled in the center of the fort. When he'd delivered his last load Captain Leiria had been directing people to spread the wood out into some kind of design. No one seemed to know its purpose. Only that Lord Timura had ordered it done and so they were doing it. Just like Renor and a score of other village lads were unquestioningly scouring the countryside for wood. Lord Timura had said it was to protect them from Protarus and after seeing the magical wolfhead chase after Masura, nobody was going to argue.
Personally, Renor hadn't needed any convincing. After what had happened to Tio and his adventure by Lord Timura's side in the meadow, he was burning for revenge. He imagined himself advancing on a cowering devil wolf, spear raised to strike.
Just then the llama bawled and Renor almost jumped out of his skin. The animal surged forward, breaking into a fast lope. Renor shouted at it and ran to grab the load, which was tilting dangerously to the side. As he reached for it he heard an ungodsly howl.
The young man whirled and his breath froze in his chest when he saw the four huge gray shapes bounding toward him.
Renor turned and ran, scrabbling his sharp work knife from his belt. Behind him the four creatures shattered the night with their howls. He ran faster, catching up to the llama. Renor slashed at the ropes and the load fell away. The animal stumbled, bawling in terror, but he yanked on its halter, helping it keep to its feet.
'Run, Granny, run!' he shouted and the llama leaped away.
Heavy bodies, moving at a frightening speed, were closing on him.
Renor was only twenty feet from the fort entrance, but the beasts were coming on so fast it might as well have been a thousand.
Then he saw a figure leap from the ruined walls. It was Lord Timura! Safar landed in front of the entrance.
'Get down!' he shouted.
Renor dropped to the ground, bracing for the scything claws he was sure would follow.
Then there was a sound like the wind and a hot breath whooshed! over his body. Behind him the howls turned into yips of pain.
Renor looked up and saw Lord Timura beckoning him.
'Come on!' he shouted. 'I can't hold them for long!'
Renor scrambled up and ran for it. He turned his head and saw a wall of hot light. Just beyond the four wolf shapes howled in pain and rage.
Then he was sprinting past Lord Timura into the safety of the fort.
People rushed to him, shouting what was wrong and was he all right and other such nonsense. Struggling for breath, Renor pushed them away and turned to see what was happening.
Just as he did he saw the wall of light-some sort of magical shield-vanish and the four wolf figures crashed through.
Lord Timura backed up quickly and at the same time Renor saw Captain Leiria and some men pushing a big cart of wood into the entrance.
'Now!' Lord Timura shouted and someone threw a burning torch onto the wood.
The wood caught and there was a great blast of white light, blinding Renor. Then his vision cleared and he saw the wagon was engulfed in eerie flames that sparked and shot off long tongues of fire.
Beyond the flames, which seemed to have sealed the entrance, Renor could no longer hear the howling.
A small hand tugged at his cloak and Renor looked down to see little Palimak standing beside him, his toy soldier armor glittering in the fire.
'We're safe now,' he said. Still, he had a worried look on his face. 'But I think they'll come back pretty quick.'
It was like an omen, because as he spoke the howling resumed.
Safar crouched in the little tent, assembling his magical arsenal by candlelight. He was mixing herbs and votive powders in a strange little pot with a five-sided mouth, working quickly and expertly in the near dark. He was used to such difficulties. When he'd been a young acolyte in Walaria he'd often lacked the price of lamp oil and so he'd had to practice his spell making under similar conditions. Although it had been much more pleasant to hear the watchman call the hour, rather than listen to the incessant howling outside the fort.
Never mind he was fairly certain Iraj and his friends were merely waging a war of nerves while they gathered their strength for the next attack. If that were the intent, by the gods it was working. The awful sound of the howling had everyone's nerves stretched taut. Safar had the village busy with a myriad of tasks, trying to keep their minds off the four savage creatures bounding and baying about the walls. The Kyranians went about their duties
