Allan Cole: The Gods Awaken

Desperate, he cried out: "Palimak! Help me, Palimak!"

And everything vanished-except pain.

Palimak peered over the railing, clutching his cloak against the damp chill as the airship slowly descended through the clouds.

Behind him he could hear Biner cautioning the crew in his rumbling baritone, "Steady, now … Keep her steady, lads…"

The clouds thinned and he could see the forbidding north coast of Syrapis: jagged reefs rising out of a stone-gray sea; a narrow pebbled beach ending at black cliffs that ascended to forested mountain peaks.

There came a rattle of chain mail and a faint breath of perfume as the warrior woman moved up behind him. "Over there," she indicated. "On the easternmost peak. Do you see it?"

The moment she spoke, Palimak spotted the castle. It was a black stone crown sitting atop the lowest peak, with eight turrets strategically positioned around the thick walls.

Palimak grimaced. "I see it, Aunt Leiria," he said. "But it doesn't look like how I remember it."

Leiria patted his arm. "That was more than three years ago," she soothed. "And you were on horseback, sitting behind your father."

Palimak shrugged. "I hope you're right," he said. Then he turned to the airship's bridge, where Biner held forth, directing the crew.

"Can you maneuver around the castle, Uncle Biner?" he shouted.

"Sure thing, lad," Biner called back. He barked orders and the crewmen scrambled around the airship's deck. Some tended the magical furnaces that pumped hot air into the huge twin balloons. Others checked the lines that held the ship's body suspended beneath the balloons. Still others spilled ballast to help stabilize the airship when Biner made the turn.

As they sailed around the peak, Leiria studied the fortress with a professional eye. On two sides the castle was protected by steep, rock-littered slopes. Obviously the rocks had all been piled up by the castle's human defenders.

One small stone hurled into the right place would set off an avalanche that would pour down on any ground troops foolish enough to climb the slopes.

The castle's front was just as steep and the road winding up to the gates was edged with low walls and a series of stone guard shacks, with slits for arrow holes.

The rear of the castle came right up to the edge of a sheer cliff shooting down to the hissing seas that beat against the little beach.

In the center-about twenty feet below the castle walls-a waterfall spilled out of a wide cave mouth. It fell hundreds of feet before it thundered into waves that crashed over the beach and against the base of the cliff.

"On the whole," Leiria said at last, "I'd rather defend it than attack it."

Palimak touched the hilt of his sheathed sword, eyes flickering demon-yellow. "I don't want a fight," he said. "We have more important things to do. But if that's what King Rhodes wants…" he grinned, displaying surprisingly sharp teeth … "That's what he'll get."

Leiria nodded approval. "I'm sick and tired of all these little Syrapian despots and their game playing,"

she replied. "They think the only purpose of a truce is to give them time to get behind you and stab you in the back."

Palimak shrugged-what would be, would be-and returned his attention to the castle.

The airship sank lower and he could make out the crowd waiting for them in the center courtyard. All eyes were turned upward to see the airship's approach.

He could imagine the amazement on their faces. The airship was a wondrous sight to behold, with the tattooed face of a beautiful woman on the front balloon. And the words "Methydia's Flying Circus"

emblazoned on the other.

Methydia, dead for many years now, had been his father's lover and mentor. She'd rescued Safar from the desert and had let him join her troupe of circus performers while he had hidden from the Walarian spymaster, Lord Kalasariz.

The circus lived on in Biner, the muscular dwarf; Arlain, half fire-breathing dragon, half fabulous woman; Elgy and Rabix, the intelligent snake and the mindless flute player; and, finally, Kairo, the strange acrobat who could detach his head from his shoulders, tossing it about on the tether of his ropy neck.

In normal times, Palimak thought, they'd be preparing for a royal performance at the castle. Biner would've been stirring up excitement with his traditional bellow of: "Come one, come all! Lads and maids of All ages! I now present to you-Methydia's Flying Circus of Miracles! The Greatest Show On Syrapis!"

Palimak grimaced. The airship and circus troupe had spent more time than they liked acting as a military force, rather than entertaining. He was as sorry about that as Biner and the others. But what could be done about it?

From the moment Palimak and his fellow Kyranians had landed on Syrapis they'd been at constant odds with the violence-loving inhabitants of the island. How so many warring factions could be packed onto an island one hundred and twenty miles long and thirty miles across at its widest was a continuing and unpleasant amazement to Palimak when he was at his most depressed.

As if reading his thoughts, Leiria said, "Honestly, sometimes I think the Syrapians have got some sort of congenital war disease." She shook her head. "Remember how they greeted us at the beach that day?

Olive branch in one hand, dagger up the other sleeve!"

Palimak sighed. "Poor father thought Syrapis would be a paradise for us all," he said. "A new home-maybe even a better home-than the one we left behind."

The yellow demon flecks faded from his eyes, leaving them sad and all too human. "Instead we landed right in the middle of about twenty wars all going on at the same time. Everybody in Syrapis hates each other. But now that we're here they finally have something in common-which is to hate us."

His eyes misted slightly. "I guess things don't always work out the way you want," he said. "Even if you're someone as great as my father was."

Leiria wished she could give Palimak a comforting hug. But that would only make the boy feel awkward.

Actually, he was a "boy" only in human reckoning.

The product of a romance between a demon princess and a human soldier, Palimak's demon side made him mature at a much faster rate than was normal for humans. At thirteen he was nearly six feet tall, although he hadn't filled out yet and was quite slender. Still, his shoulders were wider than those of most boys of his age and his broad-palmed hands had long, supple fingers. When he was angry or upset, sharp talons lanced from his finger tips like a cat's claws: a phenomenon so disconcerting that even Leiria, who'd known him since he was a babe, had never become used to it.

He also didn't act like a boy-except in rare moments when he allowed himself to relax enough to be playful. Or, blushingly so, when he was in the presence of a flirtatious maiden. Thank the Gods, Leiria thought, this part of his nature hasn't matured at the same rate as the rest of him. He had enough problems without adding sex to the equation.

Despite his youth, Palimak was the undisputed leader of the more than one thousand Kyranian villagers he and Leiria had led across the Great Sea to Syrapis and supposed safety. He had the strength of will and the charisma of his adoptive father. Backed by demon magic nearly as powerful as Safar's-who'd been the greatest wizard, demon or human, that Esmir had ever known.

During the three years since Safar's death and the Kyraniansa€™ flight from Esmir in a fleet of hired ships, Palimak had used all these attributes, plus a sometimes chilling ability for calculation, to keep the Kyranians from being overwhelmed by the fierce natives of Syrapis.

Palimak suddenly shifted. "There's the king," he said. Then he grinned. "Maybe Rhodes is going to keep his side of the bargain after all."