grove of trees below them was too dense for them to make out what it hid. Skin prickling, eyes shifting back and forth, Safar guided Khysmet down the trail.
There was no warning. They came around a bend, the path dipped, and suddenly they were trotting into the grove. A gentle sun streamed down through the tree, giving the light a holy cast. A musical fountain played in the center of the grove, mist rising from the playing waters to glow in the sunlight. The fountain itself was a scene out of the Book of Felakia-the goddess revealed in all her beauty as she bathed in a stream, dipping up a cup of water to pour over her marble tresses.
Other than the life-sized statue of the goddess there were no structures in the grove, only a few stone benches set about the fountain. It was the sort of place one might expect to find in a temple garden-certainly never in the middle of a forbidding wilderness.
Just then Safar spotted someone waiting for them by the fountain. His heart jumped in amazement.
'It's the Queen, father!' Palimak blurted. 'Queen Hantilia!'
The Demon Queen, graceful and royal as ever in her flowing red Asper robes, raised a claw of welcome.
'Greetings, Safar Timura,' she said. 'I have waited long for this meeting.'
Safar goggled at her. What in the hells was she talking about? Where was the Oracle? Most important of all- how did she get here? Meanwhile, the Queen was eyeing him, looking him over as if she'd never seen him before.
'I didn't know you'd be so handsome,' she said. 'For a human, that is.' She turned to Palimak.
'And you, young Palimak Timura,' she said in her musical voice, 'I mustn't neglect you. You are quite handsome as well. Handsomer than your father, if I may be so bold. It's the demon in you that makes the difference.'
Safar slid out of the saddle. 'Pardon me for sounding rude, Majesty,' he said. 'But you're talking nonsense. And before anything else is said, I'd appreciate it greatly if you answered a few questions. To start with, could you please explain how in the hells you got here!'
Hantilia laughed. 'Be patient, my lord,' she said. 'And all will be revealed to the best of my ability.'
She waved at a bench across from hers. 'Come sit and rest,' she said. 'And take a little refreshment, please. You must be hungry and tired after your long journey.' Another wave and the small table in front of the bench was suddenly filled with plates of delicacies and mugs of drink.
Safar started to object. He was tired of the Queen's constant evasions and pleas for patience. He wanted answers, by the gods! Safar took half step forward, then paused. For the first time he noticed how insubstantial Hantilia seemed to be. In fact, if he turned his head slightly he could see right through her to the other side of the grotto where the trees moved gently in the breeze in a shadow play scene tinted red by her robes.
'She's not a ghost, father,' Palimak said. 'Gundara says she isn't real. But Gundaree says she's sort of real.' He shook his head. 'They're not being very helpful today.'
'What do you say, Safar Timura?' Hantilia said, again indicating the bench and the table of food.
'Will you take a chance with me? You've taken so many just to get here, what could be the harm?'
Safar sighed, accepting whatever fate had in store for them. Palimak took the sigh as a signal and scrambled off Khysmet. They quickly unsaddled the horse and set him free to graze on the tender grasses fed by the playing fountain.
As soon as they sat down in front the table of food they became famished and fell to. Hantilia sat quietly while they ate and drank. To Safar's surprise the magical food was delicious-in his experience such things always tasted like paper forgotten in some musty nook of a old library. There was never any substance or nourishment to that kind of food-when you finished eating you realized there had been no meal at all and you were left feeling just as empty as before. The drink she provided was equally as marvelous. Safar's cup proved to contain a never-ending supply of a rich, earthy wine, while Palimak's was an ever flowing container of what he said was a delicious fruit punch.
When they were done and the world seemed much brighter than before, Hantilia said, 'Ask your questions, Safar Timura. I've been waiting for many a day to answer them.'
Safar eyed her. Things were beginning to make a glimmer of sense.
'You're the Oracle of Hadin,' he said-a statement, not a question.
Hantilia chuckled. 'What did you expect? Some sort of great, goddess-like figure descending from the heavens? If so, I fear you must be very much disappointed. To begin with, if you are a student of Asper, you'll realize there are no gods or goddesses about. They're all asleep, you know. Slumbering away in their celestial beds while the world is turned to ashes.'
'I'll try again,' Safar said. 'Are you the Oracle I seek?'
Hantilia shrugged. 'I'll have to do,' she said. 'The original Oracle is … dead, isn't quite the word for such a being. Dissolved, I suppose, is more descriptive. However you put it, she was destroyed when the Caluzians failed to halt the machine.' She touched claw to breast. 'I am her replacement, so to speak.'
Palimak snorted. 'Why didn't you just say so right away?' he piped up.
'Good question, son,' Safar said. Then to Hantilia, 'Do you have an answer?'
'A simple one, actually,' she replied. 'If I'd have spoken then it would have ruined the spell.'
'What spell?' Palimak broke in. 'I didn't sense any spell. Neither did Gundara or Gundaree.'
'That, my dearest, is because the spell was cast after you left the palace,' Hantilia said.
Her form suddenly wavered, weakening, until she seemed about to vanish. Then it firmed. Safar saw moistness in her deep-set demon eyes.
'Forgive me,' she said, wiping away an escaped tear. 'But I was thinking of what must have happened after you departed.'
She paused to compose herself, then said, 'The Hantilia you see before you, as you've no doubt guessed, is not a living creature. I suppose you couldn't call me a creature of any kind, living or otherwise. I am merely part of the overall spell-the Great Sacrifice, is what we named it. In reality-if there is such a thing-I and all my followers are dead.'
Safar and Palimak were rocked by this statement. They also had no doubt but that it was true. Safar remembered when they left the courtyard Palimak said he felt sorry for Hantilia and the others. The boy must have sensed the tragedy about to unfold.
'It was necessary for us to sacrifice ourselves,' Hantilia said, 'for the final part of the spell to be cast.
Otherwise there wouldn't have been enough power.'
Safar reflected on their perilous journey and realized they never would have made it this far without some outside help. An enormous amount of help, at that, considering the magical snowstorm-which he now realized had been for their benefit.
'To be frank,' the Queen continued, 'I'm a little surprised my people and I had the will to act when the moment came.' She sighed. 'At times I wondered if we had all become insanely religious, like those strange cults you hear about in the wilder areas of Esmir.'
'You said before that it began with a vision,' Safar said. 'Of the Lady Felakia appearing before you.'
'I lied,' Hantilia said. 'Or at least my other self lied. I suppose there's not much difference. I'm truly sorry, but it was the easiest way to avoid uncomfortable questions I was forbidden to answer.'
'Then what is the truth, Majesty?' Safar asked.
Hantilia indicated a large stone at Safar's feet. 'Lift up the rock,' she said.
He did as she directed and the stone came up like a lid. Beneath the stone, in a brick-lined hollow, was a packet wrapped in oil cloth.
Safar fumbled the package open, gasping when saw what it contained-an old, leather bound book emblazoned with the sign of Asper.
He leafed through the book with numb fingers. It was a much larger and fuller version of the battered little volume he'd carried with him for so many years. Like the other, it was annotated in the master wizard's hand.
An even greater surprise awaited him in what Hantilia said next.
'I am kin to Lord Asper,' she announced. 'A direct descendant, to be exact. His great, great-oh, I can't count how many greats you'd put before it-granddaughter. That book has been in my family for many centuries. It was handed down with specific instructions for its use when a certain day came-the doom Lord Asper predicted for the world. It was my misfortune to be the one chosen by the Fates to carry those instructions out.'
Safar frowned-he believed her, but some of what she said didn't quite make sense. 'How could Asper know of
