them. The streets were buckled, pavement hurled up in every direction, making it difficult for the horse to walk, much less gallop at the pace she'd originally demanded.
By the time she reached the palace several others, including Khadji, Biner and Sergeant Dario, had caught up with her. They all paused at the open gates, fearful to look inside. Leiria spurred her horse forward. It whinnied in fear, eyes rolling wildly, mouth frothing, fighting her so hard that she finally gave up and dismounted. The horse bolted away as soon as she dropped the reins. Leiria braced herself and walked through the gates.
At first it seemed a peaceful scene. Hundreds upon hundreds of red-robed figures were lying on the ground- limbs and clothing all neatly arranged as if they had fallen asleep. Raised on a platform in the center of the courtyard was the Queen's ornate throne, presided over by the carved Asper snake.
Slumped at the foot of the throne was the still body of Hantilia.
'Dead!' she heard Dario growl. 'Ever' blessed one of 'em.'
Numb, Leiria stalked forward, stepping over the robed figures, until she came to the throne and mounted the steps. She looked down at Hantilia's corpse, feeling oddly removed, as if looking down from a great distance. The Queen's features were peaceful. Smiling.
'Where's Safar?' she heard Khadji demand. 'And Palimak! Where's little Palimak?'
Leiria glanced around the courtyard, picking over body after body, heart hammering at her ribs, expecting at any moment to discover Safar lying among them.
'I don't see him,' she mumbled. 'Or Palimak, either.' She kept looking, wits dull as old brass. 'And the horse,' she said. 'Khysmet. There's no way you could miss him!'
Someone caught her arm and she looked around and found Khadji staring at her, eyes desperate.
'Where are they?' he demanded, acting as if she were cruelly withholding information.
'I don't know,' she said.
Khadji gripped her arm harder. 'Do you think they're dead?'
'I don't know that either,' Leiria said.
One moment Safar and Palimak were falling toward a ghastly death and then there was a great clap of thunder and suddenly they were trotting along the rocky floor of a huge cave, dazzled by the sunlight streaming through the entrance. There was the sound of bursting waves and a shallow river of foamy water rushed into the cave, hissing around Khysmet's legs as he splashed toward the light.
The light broke across them as they exited the cave and they found themselves traversing a peaceful beach-a cool, salty breeze blowing, while overhead gulls wheeled in clear blue skies, crying for their supper.
Khysmet was the first to recover. He snorted in surprise, then shook his head in delight at still being alive and trotted through the foamy surf toward a distant spit of land jutting out into a rolling ocean.
Palimak came out of his shock, peering out at ocean. 'Is this real, father?' he said, voice croaking in wonder. 'Or are we still in the Black Lands?'
Safar laughed and gave him a hug. 'What a son you are!' he exclaimed. 'One minute we're facing certain death. The next, we appear to be safe. And the first words out of your mouth are-'is it
Palimak flushed happily at the compliment. But his eyes were drinking in the vision of the rolling seas and gently crashing waves. A child of the mountains, he'd never experienced the ocean before.
He shook himself-not unlike Khysmet. Still the vision of an endless rolling horizon persisted, beckoning to him, calling with the voice of the gulls.
Again he asked, 'Is it real, father?'
Safar threw back his cloak to catch the fresh breezes. 'Real as can be, son,' he said.
Palimak sighed relief. Then he frowned. 'But where are we, exactly?'
Safar studied their surroundings-the ocean was to their left and to the right was a vast range of green mountains hugging the coastline. He mentally correlated what he could see with his memory of the maps Coralean had given them.
He pointed south at the mountains. Two peaks commanded the center of the range. 'As near as I can tell,' he said, 'Caluz-and the Black Lands-are beyond those peaks.' He nodded at the vast ocean to their left. 'And that's the Great Sea,' he added. 'It could be nothing else. Near as I can tell, some magical way has been opened between Caluz and the sea.'
The boy was only mildly surprised. He was still young enough so it didn't seem so strange that they'd been transported hundreds of miles.
He studied the vast oceanic distances for a moment, then said, 'And Syrapis is somewhere out there?'
'Yes. I believe so.'
'But it must be very far. How do we get there?'
'The same way we got here, son,' Safar answered. 'Magic.'
Although his manner was sanguine, Safar was just as surprised as the boy. From the very beginning, he hadn't been sure what to expect. Even if he had let his imagination run free, he would never have dreamed such a thing could happen. He peered ahead, studying the small peninsula they were heading toward. A powerful wave of sorcery was emanating from that direction, pulling at them-urging them onward.
Safar was certain that the Oracle was waiting for them there.
Then Khysmet perked up his ears. He whinnied and quickened his pace. Up ahead, riding off the land spit, was a sight that made Safar's heart jump-a glorious woman with long ebony limbs and flowing hair trotted toward them on a spirited black mare.
The woman waved at them. Her laughter was sweet music floating on the ocean breezes and Safar forgot all caution.
'Do you know her, father?' Palimak asked.
'Yes,' he answered, voice husky. 'I know her.'
Khysmet broke into a gallop and they skimmed across the sandy beach toward the woman.
Palimak felt a scratching in his pocket. Then Gundara spoke up: 'Little Master! There's something you should know. I hate to contradict Lord Timura, but everything he's said about this place is wrong!'
'None of this is real, Little Master.' Gundaree added. 'Can't you feel it? We're inside the machine! And Lord Timura doesn't know it!'
At that moment the light suddenly dimmed and a freezing wind blasted off the seas.
And it began to snow.
Part Four
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
The first attempts on Caluz were a disaster.
Iraj sent one hundred hand-picked men and demons into the pass and not one returned. He sent a hundred more, setting up a throne post at the entrance-guarded by his toughest and most loyal troops-so he could closely observe everything that happened.
He saw nothing, but he heard more than enough to ice even his shape-changer's veins. There were trumpets and challenging shouts, the clash of weapons, screams from the wounded and a chorus of ghostly groans as his fighters breathed their last and shed their souls. Then all was silence.
There was movement at the mouth of the pass. Through narrowed eyes Iraj saw a lone figure stagger out.
