'We've tried that sort of thing before. But Timura's shields are too strong to get past.'
'That's true, Lord Fari,' Protarus said, mildly amused. He was thinking of various torments he could apply to the old demon after he failed. 'It's never worked before. Why now?'
Fari raised a talon, looking a bit like an old demon school master. 'In a moment, Majesty,' he said, 'all will be clear.'
He busied himself with the heads, taking jars of magical oils and powders from the stand beside him and sprinkling the heads.
'For most of this hunt, Majesty,' he said, 'Lord Timura has been dashing all over the landscape. Going in first one direction, then another, then back again. It made it more difficult to find him, because we couldn't determine his eventual goal.'
'He had no goal,' Luka snorted. 'Except to live another day. He's running, that's all.'
'Do you think that's true, Majesty?' Fari asked, daubing a bit of ointment on the woman's head. 'Does this sound like Lord Timura? You know him best.'
Protarus frowned. 'Not one damn bit,' he said, surprising himself a little by his answer. 'Safar always has a goal. A direction.'
Luka was alarmed. 'Well, of course he has some eventual goal, Your Majesty. But that's only to find some place of permanent safety for his people.'
Kalasariz thought it time to insert a neutral comment. 'He has been moving generally toward the northwest,' he said. 'Taking in all miles traveled, that is.'
'That's most likely accidental,' Luka protested. 'We're the ones doing the driving. He's fleeing in the only direction left open to him. Which just so happens to be northwest.'
But to the Prince's dismay, Protarus had already gone past that point. 'I wonder what he's looking for?'
he mused. 'What's in that region?'
Fari pretended to be busy, hiding a smile as he poured golden oil over each head.
Kalasariz thought it was safe for another neutral answer. 'Eventually, Majesty,' he said, 'there is only the Port of Caspan. And then the Great Sea.'
Luka took heart, smacking one taloned fist into the other. 'Exactly!' he said. 'In the end, there's nothing but the sea. And if we keep going like we are we'll have him pinned against it. With nowhere to go.'
Protarus shook his head, his scarred smile making Luka's heart jump. 'Not likely,' he said.
'There's one thing we've all overlooked, Majesty,' Fari said. 'I blame myself for not seeing it before.'
'What's that?' the king prodded.
'Until a few months ago everything Prince Luka just said appeared true. Lord Timura was behaving exactly as described. Dashing this way and that with no other apparent purpose than to escape us.
'Then everything changed. Just before the, uh…' he gave Protarus a sympathetic look, '…the uh … most unfortunate attack on Your Majesty … he leaped onto one road. And then stayed on that road, never varying his direction or using his usual tricks.'
Kalasariz cleared his throat. 'Actually,' he said, 'it happened after Naadan. We tracked him to the ravine. He tried to escape, but we had the, uh … the uh…' he glanced at Protarus 'the, uh … Lady Sheesan to help us. Then he got on this road and went like the hells.'
'He must have made some kind of decision in Naadan,' Protarus said. Then he grimaced, remembering the magical stallion. 'Or maybe even before. Perhaps he meant to go to Naadan all along. And then …
and then…' He shrugged. 'My logic takes me no further. So he travels through the Black Lands. What does that tell us? Nothing.'
He sighed, adding, 'Except that Safar is as brave as ever. We have two hundred wizards with us. He has only himself. And yet he dashes across the Black Lands while we stand here afraid to set our toes in it.'
'It's the machine, Majesty,' Luka pointed out. 'We know that somewhere out there a great magical machine has gone wild. We have to be sure we have the right spells before we proceed. It's the prudent thing to do, isn't that right, Lord Fari?'
The old demon brushed away Luka's desperate clutch to rejoin him on the side of safety. 'I don't think our esteemed Majesty wants to hear about prudence right now, My Lord,' he said.
Kalasariz, the most cautious of men, agreed. 'Bold action is the only course,' he said, aligning himself with Fari. Thinking, you cunning old foul-breathed devil. I just know you have something up your sleeve.
Now, let's see it.
He was startled when the king, as if reading his thoughts, said, 'Let's see it, Fari! What are you leading up to?'
'Why, the heads, Your Majesty,' Fari said, 'The heads.' He gestured at the completed pair. 'Beautiful, aren't they?' He said this as if they were the greatest works of art, instead of two ghastly things with dead eyes and slack mouths.
Luka found reason to murmur appreciatively, as did Kalasariz. The king only frowned, impatient.
'It's like this, Your Majesty,' Fari said. 'The Black Lands have confounded us for a few days, no doubt about it. But they also give us an opportunity. With all the magical insanity raging out there, it's highly unlikely that Lord Timura could maintain his usual shields. Why, all my wizards together couldn't do it and as great as Lord Timura's reputation might be, I suspect he's met his match with that machine.
'So he'll be going naked, as it were. Using all his powers just to throw up a small ring of protection around his people. There's nearly a thousand of them, if you recall, Majesty. That is an enormous amount of people for one wizard to shield, especially in the Black Lands.'
He gestured at the heads. 'These people were captives from a nearby village. They were born and raised next to this region, continually bathed in all the sorcery leaking out. They had no magic of their own, of course, but when I saw our soldiers making sport with them, it came to me that they would be very sensitive to it.' He shrugged, 'That was my guess, at any rate. Subsequent experiments proved my theory.'
'Now I understand,' Kalasariz said, smiling, feeling pleased he'd jumped in the right direction. To seal his position he hastened to explain, whether anyone needed the explanation or not.
'Lord Timura is not only vulnerable to a casting,' he said, 'but those are the ideal devices for the casting spell.'
'As always, My Lord,' Fari said, 'you are most astute even in matters that aren't your expertise.'
'You are too kind, My Lord,' Kalasariz murmured.
Luka said nothing.
'Enough!' Protarus barked. 'You're mooning over each other like a pair of harem girls. Do the casting, dammit! Let's see what Safar's up to!'
Safar goggled at the scene, not sure which was real and which the apparition. The threatening horde of warriors, or Leiria and Dario laughing and waving in greeting.
Then he had even more reason to goggle as a large figure rose from the table, saying, 'Welcome to Caluz, Safar Timura. We have been waiting many a year for your visit.'
The speaker was female-a demon female. And as she spoke she made a motion and the ghostly soldiers vanished.
She was a spectacular sight. Even taller than a large male demon, she was dressed entirely in red-a red gown of the finest Sampitay silk; red shoes beneath that gown with the sheen of a rare jewel. Her talons were painted red, as were her lips curling up in a red painted demon smile above fangs like spears. A ruby crown was set upon her jutting forehead-just above her ivory white demon horn, which was decorated with red magical symbols.
Big as she was, demon as she was, none of these things were the true reasons for Safar's amazement.
What had his complete attention was her gown, which was embroidered with a startlingly familiar decoration. The winged, two-headed snake that was the sign of Asper.
She came toward him and Safar whispered assurances to Khysmet, who was still uneasy, then swung off the saddle to greet her.
Safar had never been aboard a ship, but in his imagination the demon queen-for her bearing left no doubt she was a queen-looked like a ship as she came to him, red gown billowing like great sails.
Despite her size she was incredibly graceful, moving with smooth and sweet femininity. An odd side of him, a
