Now there was no way open but straight ahead. And when they reached the end they'd be trapped against the raging open seas.
To gain time he repeated his previous attack, hurling the spell blindly over his shoulder. The action had even less effect than before-the creature had evidently learned from the first experience. Safar groaned in disappointment when the spellblast went off and all he heard was a sharp yelp of pain as their pursuer dodged most of the impact.
'Let me help you, father!' Palimak cried and Safar plucked the last pouch from his belt-reaching for the boy's strength to add to his. But there wasn't much there-he could feel Palimak's weariness, sense his struggle to add to Safar's powers.
Still, it was just enough, and when he cast the spell he heard a satisfying shriek from the beast.
He saw the Spirit Rider reach land's end, but to his surprise, instead of turning about she kept going, riding straight out onto the water's surface.
Safar put all his trust in the woman, riding after her without hesitation. Even so, as Khysmet plunged ahead, he braced to be swallowed by icy waters. The expected shock never came and a moment later they were racing across the boiling sea as if it were the firmest ground.
Behind them he heard the beast roar in frustrated fury and with every stride Khysmet took the roars became fainter and fainter, until they faded altogether.
The snow fell harder until everything above and below was obscured from view. He felt as if he were riding through a strange world where only the color of white existed-except for the beacon of light bobbing ahead of them as the horsewoman led them onward.
They rode like that for a long time. How long Safar couldn't say, except to note that Palimak had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Safar might have slept himself-he'd find himself dozing off, eyes closing involuntarily, then being jogged awake and seeing the ever-present beacon still moving ahead of them.
Even Khysmet seemed to tire, his pace growing gradually slower as they went on.
Safar was shocked from his stupor by a loud rumbling sound. The sea heaved under them and Palimak snapped awake, crying out in fear-'Father! Father!' Safar was too busy holding on to answer as Khysmet shrilled surprise, leaping high into the air. Safar and Palimak were nearly hurled off when he landed-hooves skittering on what seemed to be a reef rising from the ocean floor. They were rocked from side to side, but still Khysmet managed to keep his footing.
For a moment all was still. Then a blast of wind sheered in from the side, sweeping the snow away.
They were presented with an incredible sight. Looming over the tiny, barren island they now found themselves on was the immense stone image of a demon. It had a long narrow face topped by heavy brows that arched over deep-set eyes. Whoever had designed the statue had given it a sad smile, which added to the effect of the deep-set eyes, making the demon seem incredibly wise.
Safar remembered the face very well. It had been carved on the coffin lid he'd seen in his vision long ago.
It was the face of the great Lord Asper.
As they rode toward the statue Safar saw the Spirit Rider had stopped. She was waiting in front of a wide stairway that led up to the statue's open mouth-beacon still held high.
Khysmet perked up, whinnying at the black mare, who whinnied greetings in return. Safar's pulse quickened as they drew near.
The woman was just as beautiful as he remembered back in that moonlit clearing so many miles and months ago. Her face and form were so perfect she looked as if she'd been carved by a master artist from some rare ebony wood and her bright smile of greeting warmed the frozen lump deep in his heart.
She called out to him, 'Only a little farther, my friend. Only a little farther.'
Then she whirled the mare about, shouting, 'This way to Syrapis!' And plunged up the broken staircase to disappear into the mouth of the statue.
Safar didn't have to urge Khysmet to follow. The big stallion lunged up the staircase after the mare and a moment later they were leaping through the opening.
There was a flash of white light. Then darkness-marked only by the distant beacon carried by the Spirit Rider. The beacon light steadied, then stopped.
Palimak whispered, 'There's no danger, father. Everything's fine, now.'
The light grew stronger then wider, until Safar realized it was no longer a beacon, but natural light shining through a cave opening.
A moment later they cantered out into soft sunlight. Safar blinked. The woman was gone! His heart wrenched in dismay. Under him he could feel Khysmet's sides heaving and knew the animal was just as deeply affected by the disappearance of the mare.
'We're not in the machine anymore, father,' Palimak announced.
'What?' Safar was so dazed he barely heard.
'Gundara and Gundaree say we're out of the machine,' Palimak said.
Safar glanced about. Gradually his surroundings sunk in. There was no island. No raging seas. No blinding snowstorm. All had vanished.
Instead, they were riding along a narrow mountain ridge, breathtaking vistas stretching out in every direction. To the south was a snow-dappled range of low mountains, marked by two familiar peaks.
Caluz was beyond those mountains-and not so very distant. Safar could see a yellow tinge lying low on the horizon and knew it was from the poisonous atmosphere of the Black Lands. Further evidence were puffs of smoke from all the active volcanoes. He looked closely at the mountains the Kyranians needed to cross when he went back to fetch them. To his joy he saw the faint scar of a caravan track running between the peaks.
Even brighter news beckoned from the north. Not many miles beyond the ridge they were riding along was a shining sea. He could even make out a few dots of white that were sailing craft skimming across the peaceful waters. There was no sign of the snow storm he'd just experienced. The fields were green and summery. Far off he saw the curving slash of a road running along the shoreline. Beyond that was a dazzling city of the purest white.
Hovering over the city was a vast field of golden clouds-flattened so they looked like fabulous islands in the sky.
Caspan!
The last jumping off point to Syrapis.
Palimak's voice jolted him out his reverie. 'There's someone waiting for us, father,' he said, pointing to a little deer trail leading off the ridge and down to a little grove of trees. 'Down there.'
Safar tensed. 'Is it dangerous?' he asked.
Palimak hesitated while he conferred in whispers with the Favorites. Then, 'They're not sure,' he said, scratching his head. 'They go back and forth. It's all pretty confusing. The only thing they agree on is that we have to go there-no matter what.'
Safar loosened his sword. 'Let's assume the worst, son,' he said. 'Then we won't have any reason to be sorry later.'
Palimak nodded, arranging his cloak and belt so he could reach anything that might be needed. Young as he was, the boy was now quite trail wise-speaking only when necessary. He quietly got himself a drink of water and a handful of dried dates to munch on.
Safar was pleased the boy seemed so alert, all signs of exhaustion gone. As for himself-well, he felt as if he'd been through the hells and back. Which, now that he thought of it, he
He glanced up at the sun to mark the time. To his surprise he saw it was barely mid-afternoon. Which meant only a few hours had passed since they'd left Hantilia's palace. If he had been asked, Safar would have sworn at least a week had gone by. This was very powerful magic, indeed.
There was no time to ponder such mysteries. He needed a clear mind for whatever faced them down that trail. Taking a lesson from Palimak, he got himself a drink and something to eat. Except he chose a palmful of jerky and a hefty slug of wine from the flask at his hip. Refreshed, he turned Khysmet down the narrow deer trail.
The path was steep and deeply curved so it was impossible for the riders to see very far ahead. Also, the
