But Kalasariz could have no idea that it now had even deeper meaning.
'It's true,' Iraj murmured. 'The horse really exists.'
'Pardon, Majesty?' Kalasariz asked.
Iraj shook his head. 'Leave me.'
'But what about Naadan, Majesty?' the spy master asked. 'Shall we spare them?'
Iraj snarled, 'Yes, dammit! Now get out of my sight!'
Kalasariz left, vastly pleased with himself. He cared nothing about Naadan's fate. However, he'd just won a major victory over Luka by having his orders reversed.
When he was gone, Iraj hung the amulet about his neck. He felt the warm glow of its magic against his chest. Once again he was astride the great horse running free with the winds. The reverie ended with a crash and he shouted for his officers.
They came running and he issued orders to break camp immediately. He would march within the hour, never mind there wasn't time to rouse the whole army. 'They can catch up to us later,' he said, dismissing the men.
The furnace in his belly was burning full force. He knew exactly where to go to pick up Safar's trail.
Somewhere outside Naadan there was a canyon where Safar had lain in wait for his soldiers.
Iraj had no doubt he'd recognize the spot the moment he saw it.
Palimak felt like he was swimming in camel curds, which he hated more than anything, especially if the milk camel had grazed in an onion field and then it was really awful because all the onion juice seemed to concentrate in the curds. Grandmother Timura said it was good for him and made him eat it anyway, but why was she making him swim in the stuff? It was thick and slimy and hard to swim in and he kept on bumping into big pieces of curd and then he'd sink down and down and get it in his nose and mouth.
Then he thought he heard voices. He wasn't sure whose voices they were but he heard his name so he turned over on his back and floated on the curds to listen.
'Palimak's been sick since the storm,' he heard his grandmother say. He knew she wasn't really his grandmother, although she acted like one and talked like one and cuddled like one, and scolded like one, so that's what he called her.
The same with Grandfather Timura and that's who he heard talking now. He heard him say, 'We've been scared to death. First it was a fever, which seemed to hit when the rain stopped.'
'I got the fever down just fine,' his grandmother said. Her voice quavered. 'Then he went to sleep and we haven't been able to wake him up.' She sniffled, trying to hold back tears. 'It's been more than a week, now.'
Someone answered but Palimak couldn't tell who because he sank under those stupid curds again and he was swimming and swimming and then he was whirling around and around in all that onion tasting stuff and then … Nothing. A long, long time of nothing. Then he smelled incense, except not just one kind because there were so many layers of scent-rose and sage and lemon and cinnamon-that it was like he was smelling a rainbow … if only you could break off a rainbow hunk and put it in an incense burner.
Then he sensed light and he heard someone chanting, but they were whispering so he couldn't make out what the chant was all about.
He thought, talk louder, please! and just like that someone said, 'Wake up, Palimak!'
The boy opened his eyes to find his father bending over him. His threw his arms around his Safar's neck, crying, 'Oh, father, I'm so glad to see you!'
Safar hugged him back and told him what a good boy he was, and brave too, and other things like that until the world was whole again.
Then Palimak remembered and became alarmed. 'What about Gundara and Gundaree?' he asked, fumbling around his bedclothes for the turtle idol. 'They've been sick too!'
'Don't worry,' his father said, slipping the turtle from his sleeve. 'I had to take care of you first.' He laid it on Palimak's chest. 'Just leave it there for awhile,' he said. 'Before you know it they'll be out here driving us crazy again.'
Palimak giggled. 'They will, won't they,' he said. 'Saying 'shut up, shut up' all the time.' Then he remembered something else and the giggle turned into a full-bodied laugh. 'You sure looked funny in all that mud, father,' he chortled. 'Falling down, splat! And that big wrestler, boom, splat!'
'So you were the one who made it rain,' his father said, laughing with him.
'Sure,' Palimak said. 'Well, not just me alone. Gundara and Gundaree helped too. It was pretty hard to do. You have to sort of catch clouds and keep squeezing them to get all the water out.' He made wringing motions with his hands. 'And then you have to blow real hard to make a wind.' He puckered his lips to demonstrate. 'At first it was fun. Then we had to keep going and going until you got out of that dungeon and it wasn't fun anymore.'
He shrugged. 'I guess that's why we got so sick,' he said. 'But it was worth it. You escaped, right?'
More giggling. 'All those mosquitoes!' he said. 'That was really, really
'Soon as we can find some mosquitoes,' his father promised. Then, 'When you're well again,' he said,
'perhaps we'd better talk about doing great big spells, like making it rain. You can see for yourself that it can be very dangerous.'
'It was the only way I could help,' Palimak said.
'I know, son, and I thank you for it. You were very brave and very smart and you might even have saved my life.'
Palimak squirmed with pleasure. 'Did I really save your life, father?'
'Absolutely,' Safar said. 'And I wasn't criticizing you for doing it. I was only saying that you have to learn how to be careful about that sort of magic. We have to go slowly, son. Sometimes you'll even have to help me keep up with you. Even though you're still a boy, there's things you can do that I can't.' He smiled. 'Like making such a big rainstorm!'
'Oh, sure you could, father,' Palimak said, feeling quite manly in his reply. 'You're much stronger than me!'
'Only because I'm older, son,' his father said. 'And I've studied very hard all my life. You'll catch up to me one of these days. Plus more. Much more.'
'That's because I'm half demon,' Palimak said with much satisfaction. 'It's better than just being one or the other, right?'
'That's right, son,' his father said.
Palimak had a sudden thought. 'What about the horse?' he asked, worried. 'Khysmet, right?'
His father looked surprised. 'Yes, that's his name.'
'Is he here? Did you bring him back?'
'He's outside the tent eating a big basket of corn and rye.'
'That's good,' Palimak said, quite solemn. 'He deserves it after riding around all over the place.'
His father frowned, then, 'Did you see that too, son? Me on Khysmet and the soldiers chasing us?'
Palimak hesitated, then, 'I guess I did, but not the same way I saw you in Naadan. It was after I got sick and I had these strange dreams. One of them was you and Khysmet.'
'That was a vision, son,' his father said. 'Not a dream. I was wondering when you'd start having them.'
Palimak wasn't listening. He was thinking of something else. 'The really, real strange thing was that you weren't always on Khysmet,' he said. 'Sometimes somebody else was riding him.'
His father's blue eyes narrowed. 'Who, son? Who else did you see.'
Palimak remembered and his heart gave a bump. 'It was Iraj Protarus, father!'
'I'm no wizard,' Leiria said, 'but that sounds worrisome to me.'
Safar nodded. 'Exactly why I wanted to talk to you before the meeting,' he said. 'There's no sense getting everyone alarmed when I don't know what it means myself. I'm sure Palimak had a vision. And in that vision he definitely saw me playing my little game with Iraj's scouts. But I don't know what to make of him seeing Iraj as well. Hells, that might not even have been part of the vision. Perhaps it was a dream attached to the vision. It happens sometimes. It's the magical equivalent of the tail on a kite.'
'We'd be safer assuming the worst,' Leiria said. 'Although only you know what that could be.'
Safar thought a moment, jumping from worst case logic point to the next and so on, face growing grimmer
