occurrence.'
Just then they heard a rooster crow. Surprised, for it was midday, they turned their eyes to the window.
Another cock joined in. Then another. Somewhere a donkey brayed and horses whinnied. Then all the dogs started to bark.
They looked at each other, wondering what was happening. Palimak opened his mouth to speak.
At that moment the earthquake struck!
There was no warning. The floor heaved under them. Coralean was flung against the window and nearly toppled out. Leiria snatched at him, pulling him back.
The floor heaved again. Leiria was hurled backward, still holding on to Coralean. They fell heavily to the ground. The massive stone fortress swayed like a fragile sailboat in a storm.
Palimak found himself lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling as an enormous crack shot from one side of the room to the other. Stone shattered into sand and rained down on him, but he couldn't rise. It was as if a gigantic weight was holding him down. All he could do was shut his eyes against the falling debris.
He heard screams from the market place. Rock grinding against rock. Glass and clay jars bursting. Large objects hurled to the ground from great heights. Animals bawling in pain and fear.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the earthquake ended.
Silence hung like thick velvet drapes. The atmosphere was filled with dust, sparkling in a wide burst of sunlight streaming through the enormous hole in the wall where the window had been.
Then the silence was broken by the sound of movement from across the room. Palimak and the others turned and gaped at the sagging door, which had been half-torn from its hinges.
A wild-eyed figure staggered through the doorway. It was Safar.
'It's Hadin!' he cried. 'It wants me back!'
And he collapsed to the floor.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kalasariz floated above the golden-tiled plain, which stretched away from him on all sides for what seemed like an enormous distance.
For the first time in what seemed like eons, the spymaster was without pain. He felt strong and confident- mind as sharp and clear as it had ever been.
He knew that he was still quite small; that the plain was actually a table, with a tiled center. And that the enormous face bent over him was that of a normal-sized human woman. A witch, actually. Who at this moment was mumbling the spell that would break the last link of the magical chains that had imprisoned him for so long.
Beside him, Luka and Fari were whispering to one another. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he had no doubt that they were conspiring against him. Prince Luka and the Lord Fari disliked one another intensely. But as demons they were united in their hatred of all humans-especially Kalasariz, who had been their rival from the beginning.
The moment the witch cast her spell, they would attack him. If Kalasariz had possessed a face, he would have smiled that thin cold smile that tens of thousands had feared for so many years.
For the spymaster had plans of his own. Plans that included Luka and Fari only in a small, but possibly delicious, sort of way.
It was a pity things had to be as they were, Kalasariz thought. Although he loathed the two demons, it wouldn't have prevented him from working with them as an equal. Unlike Luka, he'd never envied Iraj Protarus his throne. Nor had he ever shared Fari's jealousy of Safar's former title of Grand Wazier to the king.
All his adult life the spymaster had been content to remain in the background. Letting others wear the trappings of power, while he steered the course. The only person who'd ever aroused the green-eyed beast in his bosom had been Safar Timura. And that was because Safar had quite different ideas on how Iraj should rule his kingdom. Nor did Safar's plans include Kalasariz in any role-especially not that of the power behind the throne.
Complicating Kalasariza€™ enmity for his rival was the strange hate/love relationship between Safar and Iraj. Before they fell out the two had been boyhood friends. Blood-oath brothers. But so what? What was a blood oath when a grand kingdom was at stake?
As the spymaster thought about these things it suddenly came to him that perhaps the reason he'd failed in his fight against Timura was because of Kalasariza€™ own lack of ambition. Maybe he'd been a fool all those years being content to be the power behind the throne.
Perhaps by relying on kings to do his work, instead of acting directly on his own behalf, he'd sown the seeds of his own failure.
The spymaster started getting excited. What a new and interesting way of looking at things!
Above him, the witch shifted position and Kalasariz put these thoughts aside to be examined more fully later. He had to keep his wits about him for what was coming next.
Although the spy master's smallness prevented him from clearly making out what the witch was up to-all things were so enormous that he couldn't see past the immediate details in front of his face-he smelled burning incense and guessed she was moving to the next part of her spell.
Beside him, Luka and Fari stirred restlessly. They were silent now. Conspiracy completed, he suspected.
Waiting their moment.
Kalasariz had no idea how he and the others had come to this place. When Iraj had grabbed onto Safar's magical robe-tails, Kalasariz had instinctively followed. Leaping into the trough of his sorcerous wake, carrying Luka and Fari with him.
Then Iraj and Safar had disappeared and Kalasariz had found himself hovering between darkness and light, Fari and Luka mere specks of existence floating nearby. For some reason they were even smaller than he was and quite weak. And so when they heard the witch's voice summoning them, it was Kalasariz who had answered. And it was Kalasariz who had negotiated with the witch.
She would give them substance. A place in this world. In return, they would join her in her struggle against her deadliest enemy-Palimak Timura. The three agreed most enthusiastically. For wherever Palimak was, they'd find Safar. And wherever Safar was, they'd find Iraj-their errant brother of the Spell of Four.
Iraj had broken the spell's link, condemning them to puny existences that the most insignificant insect would not envy. Their only hope was to find Iraj again and bring him under their power.
Fari, who had been a master wizard in his previous existence, had explained that this time the bond could be reformed differently. Since Iraj had violated the Spell of Four, it was no longer necessary to make him the kingly center.
'All we require is his essence,' Fari had said.
'His essence?' Kalasariz had puzzled, not certain what he meant. 'How do we accomplish that?'
If Fari had owned lips, he would have smacked them. He answered, 'We eat him!'
This answer had inspired the glimmerings of what Kalasariz now believed was turning out to be the greatest plan in his career.
The witch's indistinct mumbling ended. The huge head drew back, long hair stirring like a great forest in a summer storm.
'Make yourselves ready,' she commanded.
She gestured, mountain of a hand slicing downward.
But as it descended, Kalasariz whipped around to confront Luka and Fari. He had time to see them coming forward, then there was a white-hot flash that blinded him. Even so, he didn't hesitate but surged forward.
There was a slight sting, then another, as he engulfed first Luka, then Fari.
Thunder boomed and he felt an enormous weight crushing downward. The weight eased. Became …
normal? He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the glittering eyes of the witch. They were at his level.
The spymaster looked down and saw he was kneeling on the table. The golden-tiled center almost
