Now Felino was completely covered with the beautiful but deadly butterflies. Thrusting their abdomens forward to deliver their poison. Then fluttering away to let another take their place. Felino collapsed to the ground, moaning and barely able to move.
When he was certain the lionman was completely helpless, Palimak waved his hand and the butterflies vanished.
'I don't know what just happened,' Leiria said 'Except I think you saved my life.'
Ashamed, Palimak blushed. 'I'm sorry, Aunt Leiria,' he said. 'Actually, I almost got you killed. I shouldn't have shouted at you like that.'
Leiria clapped him on the shoulders and said, 'Never mind.' Then she directed him to the main battle, where Safar was dealing the last blow to the last opponent. His sword cut through a jackalman's throat, sending the barking head flying across the arena. The rest of the beastmen were either all dead or dying.
'I've never seen Safar fight like that before,' Leiria said in her cool professional manner. 'If he practices a bit more he'll be good enough to give me trouble.'
'I was thinking the same thing,' Palimak said. 'Maybe he's got some new kind of magic.'
Leiria frowned. 'I don't know,' she said. She started to say more, but then broke off as Safar approached them, wiping blood from his blade and returning it to its sheath. He looked down at King Felino, eyes hard and blue as newly-forged steel.
'Now let's see what this fellow has to say for himself,' he said.
Safar plucked out his silver dagger and gestured. Flames burst out all around them. And the blood-stained arena, along with its silent audience, vanished. And they were suddenly back on the jungle trail again. The softly moaning lionman shivering on the path before them.
There came a series of soft popping sounds, like a child making bubbles in his cup of goat's milk, and Palimak saw Hamyr and the other Kyranian soldiers appear.
They all breathed sighs of relief and collapsed on the ground. But they only stayed like that for a few moments. After the men caught their breaths they started rummaging through their packs to dig out rations and wine to stoke up their energies in case danger should once again rear its head.
Palimak didn't see where Jooli came from. She was just suddenly there, walking up to the stricken lionman.
'If it's of any help to you,' she said to Safar, 'he seems to favor the number six. Maybe it has something to do with his magic. Maybe it's coincidental. Either way, I thought I'd better mention it.'
Safar nodded, stroking his chin. With some surprise, Palimak noted the stubble of a golden beard sprouting from his face. Their ordeal had gone on so long Safar hadn't had a chance to shave.
And once again Palimak wondered about the changed color of his father's hair. Previously, he'd attributed it to bleaching by the sun. Now he wondered why a normally dark-haired person would grow a light-colored beard. It didn't make sense. He glanced at Safar's head and saw that what had once been dark hair, albeit streaked with gold, was now entirely blond.
Like the sudden improvement in Safar's fighting ability, something seemed wrong here. On the other hand, maybe it was only his imagination.
Then his father spoke and the doubts were forgotten. 'Let's get His Highness aboard the airship,' Safar said. 'And we can question him at our leisure.'
Everyone agreed with his thinking and so he sent up a green flare to signal Biner.
A half-hour passed and there was no sign of the airship. Frowning, Safar shot off another magical flare.
Again, there was a long, fruitless wait.
Finally, Leiria said, 'We'd better get back to the beach the best way we can. Biner's either asleep or in big trouble.'
'Biner
'I know,' Leiria replied grimly.
A few minutes later they had the barely conscious King Felino tied to a litter and were dragging him along the trail as they retraced their steps through the jungle.
CHAPTER FORTY
Queen Clayre paced her cabin, waiting for news from the Hells that her secret plot against Safar and Palimak Timura had succeeded.
From the cabin adjoining hers she heard the muffled sounds of a man moaning in pain. She smiled in pleasure, thinking that in her case the news didn't have to travel very far. Only the door to her suite separated her from one small, particularly nasty corner of the nether world.
Above her came a flurry of barked orders and the slap of bare feet as the sailors raced across the vessel's deck to do the bidding of their officers.
Safar's ship had been spotted and even now her son and his minions were beating windward to catch the Timuras by surprise.
Clayre snorted derisively. She had little faith in her son's ability to bring the Timuras down. Even though the stolen fleet was packed with more than enough soldiers to overwhelm the Kyranians, in her mind Rhodes had failed before when he'd held even better odds.
And then he'd been engaged against the boy wizard, Palimak. Not a sorcerer of Safar Timura's enormous strength and cunning.
Clayre heard more sounds of pain and moved to the cabin door. It was open a crack and she could peek inside. Spreadeagled across her table was a half-naked sailor, his loins covered by cut-off canvas breeches. Bound and gagged, blood streaked his bare torso and legs as if he'd been lashed.
Some invisible force seemed to be tormenting him and he twisted against his bonds, causing the table to shift a few inches. Then he gave a strangled cry and went inert as he fell unconscious.
Excellent, Clayre thought. The spell is working. She turned away from the door and resumed her pacing, reviewing her plan.
After Clayre's first effort with the tree-beasts had failed she'd decided to seek help from a higher power.
By this, she did not mean the Heavenly gods. In her decidedly less than humble opinion the gods were useless things noted for not sticking to their bargain no matter how rich the sacrifice. The deities who ruled the Hells were much more trustworthy.
Charize, her mentor in sorcery, had speculated that the Heavenly gods were asleep and paying no mind to worldly affairs. Charize had postulated that this was the era for monsters and devils like herself.
Moreover, she'd said, there was an excellent opportunity to replace the gods in the minds of humans and demons with more realistic objects of worship.
'The worlds we reside in are quite cruel,' Charize had observed. 'Pain is the destiny of all living things.
And this pain is not even relieved by death. Note the poor miserable ghosts who wander everywhere, bemoaning their fates.
'As if Fate had ever truly offered anything better. It would be kinder-and more delicious to us-if mortal creatures understood that everlasting pain and disappointment make up their eternal future.
'As I tell all my sisters, your prey's submission is such lovely sauce to be served up with a good, suffering marrow bone.'
During Clayre's sessions with the monster queen she'd learned-and gloried in the learning-that during this period of inattentive deities, helpmates such as herself were not only spared misery but also got to feast at the wondrous table of hopelessness.
'And even if Asper is correct and things do eventually change,' Charize had said, 'and the gods should ever awaken, they have no loyalty to mortals. After all, corporeal beings are mere playthings to be tormented for the personal enrichment and enjoyment of the gods.
