Allan Cole - Wolves of the Gods

Caught up in the drama, the crowd shouted a warning, pointing into the sky where thick black clouds had gathered just above the arena. But it was too late, as six figures with faces like snarling beasts swept out of the clouds, swinging down on trapeze bars to within a few feet from her, then letting go-turning once in the air-and landing like cats, instantly crouching, ready to pounce with their gleaming scimitars.

They charged and the crowd groaned as Leiria was forced to drop the banner to draw her sword and defend herself. Steel clashed in time to wild music as Leiria battled the beastmen. One of the black cloaked figures-short, but massive in girth-grabbed up the banner, roaring through his bear's mask. He displayed the flag to the audience, who hissed and booed and shouted threats as he waved the banner back and forth in victory. And, indeed, for a long, agonizing moment all seemed lost as the beastmen encircled Leiria, coming at her from every side. Magical lightning blasting in front of her each time she threatened to break free.

High above, obscured by the black cloud, Palimak peered anxiously through the gaps at the action going on below. Dressed in his soldier's costume, he was standing on a platform, anxiously awaiting his turn.

Safar was beside him, snapping a safety wire to his belt.

"I wish I didn't have to wear that, father," Palimak said. "It doesn't look right!"

Safar chuckled. "You're sounding like a star already," he said. "Don't worry. No one will see it. They'll be too busy following the action."

Palimak giggled. "More smoke and mirrors, father?"

"That's right, son. More smoke and mirrors. With a hefty dose of magic-applied frequently and liberally."

Safar rubbed the boy's shoulders. "Relax. You still have a little time before you get your cue."

Palimak licked his lips and nodded. Then, "Do you think she'll come, father?"

"I don't know. I hope so."

The boy became suddenly shy, ducking his head and mumbling. "Did you … you know … love her very much?"

"Yes, I did."

His voice dropped lower. "More than … well … you know … my mother."

"Nerisa?"

"Yes."

Safar shook his head. "I can't say," he replied. "I don't know any way to measure such a thing. I hope to never find one."

Palimak relaxed, smiling. "That's good," he said. "Thanks, father." Vague as Safar's answer was, it satisfied him. Now he could turn his full attention on the job ahead.

He patted the stone turtle in his pocket, alerting the Favorites. His father gave him a hug, saying, "It's time, son. Break a leg!"

Palimak laughed, feeling warm all over-because he was now part of the family of entertainers who knew this really meant extra special good luck. You weren't actually supposed to get your leg broken, which the boy thought was a wonderful joke.

Then Safar jerked a chain that shut off the flue of the smoke generator bolted to the top of the pole some seven feet above them. He jerked another chain, which operated a spark machine bolted just below the generator. Sparks showered through the widening gap in the cloud.

"Go!" Safar shouted, casting a spell that formed the sparks into a lighting bolt that crashed into the ground below.

Heart hammering, Palimak stepped out on the cable, which sloped to a lower platform some fifty feet away. He whispered to the Favorites, "Better get to work!"

Then he let go and slid down the wire, shouting a shrill war cry.

Safar was right, no one noticed the wires when he made his entrance. All they saw was a brave little figure in golden armor-a bow clutched in one hand-flying out of the clouds-shouting defiance at the beastmen, who had all but toppled Leiria from her horse.

When he reached the platform, he quickly drew a golden arrow from the quiver on his back, fixed it into his bow and posed his best and boldest pose-which he'd rehearsed for hours.

Palimak fired and the arrow sped toward the beastmen. It struck near the massive leader, who was still displaying the standard of Kyrania. Smoke exploded and the beastmen shrieked in anger, whirling to face Palimak. The boy fired again and this time the chieftain dropped the banner in his scramble to get away from the exploding smoke.

The tide was turned and the crowd roared in delight as Leiria recovered and attacked from the rear, knocking beastmen aside, then leaning down in an amazing feat of horsemanship and scooping up the fallen banner.

The crowd went insane, cheering their heroes on. But Safar wasn't done with them yet. Another lightning blast rocked the arena and a frightening figure dropped out of the sky. It was Arlain, dressed like an assassin in form-fitting black with a gold sash about her waist, breathing long tongues of fire at the scene below.

The Kyranians screamed warnings to their heroes but the assassin was too quick, snatching Palimak from the platform and swinging away with the boy clutched in her arms.

She dropped to the ground and held the boy high for all to see.

"Help!" Palimak shrieked. "Help me!"

Leiria saw his plight and spurred her horse forward, but Arlain froze her with a shout:

"Surrender! Or the boy dies!"

Leiria sagged, sword dropping, bowing to the inevitable.

And that's when Safar struck! A huge blast shook the arena, raising a huge bank of smoke swirling with every color. Khysmet came charging out of the smoke, horse armor picking up the colors and shattering them toward the beastmen. Another blast rocked the heavens and a great black hole opened like a gate in the cloud above. Safar, dressed in gleaming white armor and carrying a white shield emblazoned with the snake-headed sign of Asper, soared out of the cloud, roaring:

"FOR KYRANIA!"

A wire so slender it was invisible to the audience carried him down to meet Khysmet, who was circling the arena, taking his measure of the beastmen. Sparks showered out and at the same time Safar punched the release lever on his belt and dropped into Khysmet's saddle as smoothly as if he had vaulted from a sturdy fence.

And then came the organized chaos of what Biner called "The Big TBF, my lad!" Meaning, The Big Finish. It was fast, it was furious, but also quite stylized and elegant. There was none of the fake gore favored by other circus troupes. Methydia would have never permitted such a thing. "People have troubles enough," she always said, "without being reminded of the terrible things that are done. Give it art.

Give it drama. Give them a little sex, a little comedy, a clown chase. And then a nice bit of action, with a happy ending that will send them all home to sweeter dreams than they had before the circus came."

So that's what Safar did. He gave the Kyranians lots of action, but with no hidden pig's bladder of blood bursting when a sword stroke was made. The battle was one of daring acrobatics and high drama, with many illusions-some circus trickery, some magical spells cast by Safar-to tell the tale. In the end, Palimak was rescued. The three heroes regrouped. The villains were driven off. And the standard retrieved.

On horseback now, Safar, Palimak and Leiria turned to the crowd and in a flourish of trumpets announced victory over the forces of evil. Leiria waving the flag of Kyrania as fireworks shattered the black clouds away and the bright sun and sweet breezes swept through the arena again.

Any cheering that had gone before was nothing to what happened now. There were whistles and screams and shouts, hands imploding, feet stomping so hard the stands swayed and creaked. Then they all poured out of their seats and into the arena, surrounding the whole circus troupe which had come out to take its bows.

Someone shouted, "For Kyrania!"

And they all took it up as a chant-all thousand of them. Refugees, torn from a sweet land, standing in the center of the Hells, shouting: