One night Safar rode in from a scouting mission and found Palimak lying awake waiting for him. When he entered the tent the boy held up a finger urging silence.
He pointed at the stone turtle, whispering, 'I just got them to sleep.' He put a pillow over the idol, made a magical gesture to soften sound, then said in a normal voice, 'There. That ought to do it.'
'What's wrong?' Safar asked.
Palimak shrugged. 'Gundaree and Gundara don't like it here,' he said. 'I don't either, but what can you do? Like grandfather says, 'this is the way the road goes so you just have to put up with it.''
Safar nearly pinched himself. The boy frequently sounded like a miniature adult, but this was beyond the wisdom of a good many of the full grown adults in the caravan.
'You seem to be learning a lot from your grandfather,' he said.
'Oh, sure,' Palimak replied. 'I was surprised myself. I didn't know he knew so much, being kind of old and everything.' He frowned. 'I don't mean old is dumb, but sometimes it is pretty cranky. And cranky people don't seem to think very well. They just get mad for no reason and say 'get out of here,' instead of trying to find out what's happening.'
Safar smiled. The child was plainly speaking of his grandmother, who tended to have less patience with the boy. How ironic. When Safar was a child it was his mother who was full of understanding and his father who, in Palimak's words, was 'pretty cranky.'
He held out his arms and Palimak scrambled into his lap and snuggled against him. He stayed there for a time, breathing deeply and Safar remembered the comfort he'd felt in his own father's arms many years ago.
Then the boy rose up, saying, 'Is it a machine that's doing it father?' he asked. 'Making everything feel so bad, I mean?'
Safar was mildly surprised. 'How did you guess?'
'Oh, it wasn't so hard,' Palimak said. 'I was just thinking about what could be causing all that bad magic and I couldn't see a person doing it. You know, like a wizard or a witch. Even a whole lot of them together couldn't keep on making so much magic all the time. So then I thought, maybe a machine could do it. A great big machine.'
He shook his head. 'The only thing is, why's it doing it? It's just sort of shooting off lots and lots of power and a whole lot of spells that don't seem to do anything for any special reason. Except make people feel really bad. Why would a machine want to do that, father?'
Safar hesitated, then said, 'I suppose I'd better tell you, so you know what's ahead. But first you have to promise to keep it a secret.'
Palimak was excited. 'I'm good at secrets,' he said. 'Ask anybody. Ask Grandfather, even. He'll say I never, ever tell.' Then he frowned. 'Except I guess you can't ask him or anybody else,' he said. ''Cause they'd know there was a secret, which would spoil the whole thing.'
'Don't worry,' Safar said, smiling. 'I'll take your word for it.'
'Does Leiria know?' Palimak asked.
'Some of it. But she's the only one. I didn't want to frighten people.'
'Is Caluz a bad place, father?' the boy asked.
'I'm afraid so, son,' he said. 'You've seen how everything looks around here. I honestly didn't know it would be like this. So I have to think that Caluz might be worse.'
'Is that where the machine is?'
'Yes.'
'And that's what's causing all this?'
'There's other things involved, but yes, it's mainly the machine.'
'But if Caluz so is so awful, why are we going there?'
'There's an oracle we need to visit,' he said. 'For reasons so important that I think it's worth the risk we're taking.'
'Will it help us with Iraj?'
'I'm not sure. Possibly. But that's not my sole purpose.'
He saw the boy's puzzled look. Safar knew he was wondering what could be more important than escaping Iraj Protarus.
'I'll tell you the story,' Safar said, 'and then maybe you'll understand.'
He settled back, remembering when he'd first heard of Caluz and its oracle. 'It started long before you and your mother came to Zanzair looking for me,' he said. 'I had just been appointed Iraj's Grand Wazier…'
…Day was fading to night and from his hilltop home Safar could see the oil lamps blooming all over the ancient city of Zanzair. The dying rays of the sun danced on the gold demon-head towers of the Grand Palace, where Iraj had been recently crowned king of all Esmir. He had made his main court in the old demon seat of power to symbolize that he was king of demons and humans alike. Even so, with an influx of humans seeking opportunity in the capital of the young and progressive king, Zanzair remained stubbornly demon. It was a place of mystery and secrets that were already swirling about the throne just as they had in the days of the demon kings. Safar had learned quickly to trust no one and always to mind his back. So when one of his gate guards became ill and was replaced by a stranger from the royal barracks, Safar decided to keep an eye on him to see if there was some hidden purpose behind the illness and the replacement.
He noticed right away the fellow was erratic about who he would admit to see Safar and who he wouldn't. Safar's duties were wide and in this climate of constant double dealing he need to keep his door open to anyone with legitimate business. He'd admonished the man the night before, so he was particularly watchful that day, peering out his study window whenever he heard someone approach.
At first everyone seemed to be properly handled, then Safar saw a man approach riding a little donkey.
He was a tall man, with an unkempt beard and dusty, much-patched robes. He made a comical figure as he approached, sitting crossways on the donkey's back, sandals dragging across the cobbles. The guard barred his way and although the man argued strongly, Safar could see his employee's mind had been made up and nothing the visitor could say would sway him.
An argument ensued. Safar couldn't hear the details at first, but then the visitor lost his temper, shouting,
'How dare you treat me in this manner! I am a priest, I tell you! Here to see Lord Timura on important business!'
The guard responded by shoving the man toward his donkey and ordering him to leave. At that moment Safar decided if the guard were a spy, he was not only an incompetent one but rude to boot, so he sent his majordomo to intervene. A few minutes later the guard was summarily dismissed and the visitor was brought to Safar's chambers.
'Please accept my apologies, kind sir,' Safar said, 'as well as the hospitality of my house. Anything you desire is yours. Food. Drink. A bath and a place to sleep. Whatever you require.'
'I require nothing, My Lord,' the man said, 'other than to beg your attention on a matter of utmost importance.'
Nevertheless, Safar sent for refreshments and a servant with hot towels and perfumed water and waited until the trail grime had been wiped away and the man was sitting in a comfortable chair with a glass of brandy in his hand.
'Now, speak to me,' Safar said after the man had taken his first drink and he'd seen color flood his cheeks. 'Tell me of this urgent business.'
'I am called Talane, my lord. A priest in the temple of Caluz. The High Priest has sent me all this way to tell you of the calamity that has befallen us and to plead for your assistance.'
He gestured at his raggedy robes, which when examined closer still retained the faint symbols of a priest's robes. 'You would never know to look at me, lord, but I started out for Zanzair over a year ago with an entourage of scholars and soldiers and wagons loaded with rich gifts to place at your feet. Alas, after many misadventures on those bandit-infested roads I now possess only these robes. The wagons are gone, the soldiers dead or vanished like the cowards many of them were. As for the rest of my priestly colleagues, only I survived to complete the journey.'
Immensely interested, Safar urged him to continue. Not long before he'd encountered a reference to Caluz in Asper's book. The demon wizard had speculated that the area was a source of much natural magical activity. Word
