Queen Charize stirred on her throne, examining the source of the sound. She was practically blind, but that made no difference here, since sight would have been useless in her underground kingdom of eternal night. Her senses of smell and hearing, however, were so acute that she could make out Palimak and the Favorites through solid stone.
Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
The hammering produced the image of a tall, wingless creature, with two legs and two arms.
Tap, tap.
And little Gundaree and Gundara were displayed in her greedy mind. They were perched on the wingless creature's shoulders. Her nostril openings widened, sniffing the chamber's hot air. The scent carried through the pores of the stone, drifting like steam wafting through from the cold Other Side.
'I smell a human, sisters,' she said.
There was a low, hungry muttering from the others. 'Human! Human! Human!'
Queen Charize sniffed again. 'And demon as well.'
More muttering. Puzzled, instead of hungry: 'Human
The presence of both races together was astounding. Could it be the two beings on the creature's shoulders?
The answer came from the spoor rising through the pores of the stone. And all her highly-tuned senses told her the two beings were clearly magical. With no real form. They were creations, not true living things. Strange spirits whose origins were very ancient indeed. Charize smiled to herself. She could almost taste the presence of the long-ago sister witch who had made them.
Again she tested the air. Separating the human and demon scents. Tap, tap, tap. Form radiating an image on her brain. And then the scent was traced back to a single source-laid over the sound image of the wingless creature.
'A feast, sisters!' she chortled. 'Let him in!'
There was a hungry muttering. Broken by one voice:
'Pardon, Majesty. But what if it's Safar Timura?'
The question was a hot dagger to the huge organ that served Charize as both heart and lungs. It had been a long time since she'd truly fed on a human's spirit and her intense hunger had interfered with her memory.
'How dare you speak the name of Safar Timura?' she rasped. 'It is forbidden here!'
'Just the same, sister,' came the voice. It was that of Tarla, her royal rival. 'I must speak it for the good of us all. It was Safar Timura who nearly destroyed us, if you recall.'
Queen Charize remembered very well.
Again came the sound from the Other Side: Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
And there was a slip in awareness and she found herself back at that moment-some ten sheddings ago-when her most grievous enemy, the mighty wizard Lord Timura, had confronted her. Except, in this vision, she found herself in Timura's mind. Cloaked in darkness. Danger all around. She experienced both his emotions and her own at the same time.
Charize choked in disgust as her mind merged into the filthy body of the remembered other: She
The beast towered above him, enormous corpse-colored wings unfolded like a bat's. It had the stretched-out torso of a woman with long thin arms and legs that ended in taloned claws. There was no hair on its skull-like head and instead of a nose there were only nostril holes on a flat face shaped like a shovel.
Safar nearly jumped away, but then he realized the creature was too busy screaming in pain and clawing at its eyes to be a threat. He was in an enormous vaulted room, filled with blazing colors. Great columns, red and blue and green, climbed toward glaring light then disappeared beyond. The room was filled with hundreds of death-white creatures, some crouched on the floor howling pain, others hanging bat-like from long stanchions coming out of the columns. They twisted and screamed, horrid flags of misery blowing in a devil wind of conjured light.
Safar paced forward, moving through the writhing bodies until he came to the throne. It looked like a great pile of bones-arms and legs and torsos and skulls stacked in the shape of an enormous winged chair. As he came closer he saw the a€?bonesa€™ were carved from white stone. The creature who commanded that grisly throne was like the others, except much larger. A red metal band encircled her bony skull to make a crown. Unlike the others, however, the creature was silent and although she was hunched over, claws covering her eyes, she made no outward show of pain.
Safar stopped at the throne and said loudly, for all to hear: 'Are you queen to this mewling lot?'
'Yes, I am queen. Queen Charize.' As she answered she couldn't help but raise her royal head, carefully keeping her eyes shielded. 'I command here.'
'You command nothing,' Safar replied, voice echoing throughout the chamber, 'except what I, Lord Timura of Kyrania, might permit.'
Queen Charize said nothing.
'Do you understand me?' Safar demanded.
He made a motion and the light became brighter still. The creatures shrieked as their pain intensified.
Even the queen could not stop a low moan escaping through her clenched lips.
'Yes,' she gasped, 'I understand.'
'Yes, Master,' Safar corrected her. 'You will address me as a€?Master.a€™'
Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
The sound brought Charize back to awareness. It was just in time, because as her great head jerked upward she sensed danger.
Not from without, but from only a few feet away where Tarla was sidling closer. Charize could smell the hate musk on her rival's breath. Hear the faint clatter of talons reaching for her throat.
The queen slashed with her mighty claws. There was a cry, the sound of a falling body; then the heady scent of death filled the chamber. And Tarla was no more.
Excited whispers came from her subjects as word was passed on what had happened.
'Are there any others, my sisters,' came Charize's deadly voice, 'who wish to challenge me?'
The whispers died.
Silence.
Except for the
And then the remembered humiliation of the incident with Timura combined with the shock of Tarla's recent bold attempt at regicide to force a decision. Charize had to show them who ruled here. A raw display of power was required to silence those who had favored Tarla.
'Let him in, sisters,' she said. 'And we will feast!'
Palimak pressed an ear against the wall, listening as he tapped with the haft of his dagger.