Allan Cole - Wolves of the Gods

The air became very cold and gulls shrilled warnings overhead. The breeze coming off the sea carried the sudden stink of sorcery. Ahead of him the Spirit Rider wheeled her horse and charged away. Instinctively he knew this was no tease, no game of seduction in a dark wood.

He dug his knees into Khysmet and the horse leaped after the black mare. Both of them knew the threat came from behind-not ahead. Snow started to fall, then Palimak cried out his warning-"We're inside the machine, father!" Putting words to the half-formed thoughts in his mind.

There was a loud crash! behind them-so heavy it shook the ground.

Safar glanced around and saw huge white jaws reaching for them. Khysmet surged forward just in time, the jaws clashing together on emptiness. Safar turned his head away, but the creature's huge eyes-burning with the blue fires of some icy hell-caught his. He felt numb, his strength drained away by sudden cold. It took all his will to force his eyes away from the creature's and his strength flooded back the moment he was facing forward again.

The creature roared. Palimak tried to turn and see, but Safar leaned forward, blocking him, telling him,

"Whatever you do-Don't look back!"

There was another crash-this one much closer. Khysmet stretched to his fullest, straining to gain more speed.

The snowstorm intensified and Safar lost sight of the Spirit Rider. All he could see was a snatch of the shoreline to the side and just ahead of him-chunks of ice hissing in and out of the mist on steely waves.

Again there was the sound of something heavy slamming down behind them. The ground quaked, but this time the beast didn't seem quite as close. At least he hoped so.

A large wave boomed in from the side and Khysmet veered from the shoreline to escape it. The mistake was evident within a few seconds. Without the shoreline to guide them visually, and the sound of the sea lost beneath Khysmet's pounding hooves, they quickly became lost in the blizzard.

Their enemy, however, had no such trouble. The crashing sound suddenly gained on them-coming closer than ever before.

Then a beacon flared well off to the left and Safar turned Khysmet toward the light.

He heard a marrow-freezing roar and a cold foul breath blasted across his back. Safar fumbled a small pouch from his belt, bit the drawstrings apart and hurled the pouch and its contents behind him-his shouted spell ripped from his lips by the storm:

"Fire to cold,

Cold to fire.

All hearts burn

On Winter's pyre!"

As he hurled the last words into the winds one of the beast's claws caught his cloak, pulling him back. He jerked forward against Palimak, feeling cloth and flesh tear.

There was a spellblast behind him, followed by the howl of some great beast in pain, and the claw was snatched away.

The beacon grew larger in his view and then he gradually began to make out the shadowy figure of the horsewoman racing ahead of him through the storm-a bright magical brand held aloft in one hand.

There was a violent crash behind him and he realized the ice creature had only been slowed momentarily by his attack spell and was pursuing him again. From the sound of its roaring-hate mingled with pain-it was back to full strength, more determined than ever to bring them down.

He heard waves crashing on both sides of them and realized they were now out on the narrow peninsula.

Now there was no way open but straight ahead. And when they reached the end they'd be trapped against the raging open seas.

To gain time he repeated his previous attack, hurling the spell blindly over his shoulder. The action had even less effect than before-the creature had evidently learned from the first experience. Safar groaned in disappointment when the spellblast went off and all he heard was a sharp yelp of pain as their pursuer dodged most of the impact.

"Let me help you, father!" Palimak cried and Safar plucked the last pouch from his belt-reaching for the boy's strength to add to his. But there wasn't much there-he could feel Palimak's weariness, sense his struggle to add to Safar's powers.

Still, it was just enough, and when he cast the spell he heard a satisfying shriek from the beast.

He saw the Spirit Rider reach land's end, but to his surprise, instead of turning about she kept going, riding straight out onto the water's surface.

Safar put all his trust in the woman, riding after her without hesitation. Even so, as Khysmet plunged ahead, he braced to be swallowed by icy waters. The expected shock never came and a moment later they were racing across the boiling sea as if it were the firmest ground.

Behind them he heard the beast roar in frustrated fury and with every stride Khysmet took the roars became fainter and fainter, until they faded altogether.

The snow fell harder until everything above and below was obscured from view. He felt as if he were riding through a strange world where only the color of white existed-except for the beacon of light bobbing ahead of them as the horsewoman led them onward.

They rode like that for a long time. How long Safar couldn't say, except to note that Palimak had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Safar might have slept himself-he'd find himself dozing off, eyes closing involuntarily, then being jogged awake and seeing the ever-present beacon still moving ahead of them.

Even Khysmet seemed to tire, his pace growing gradually slower as they went on.

Safar was shocked from his stupor by a loud rumbling sound. The sea heaved under them and Palimak snapped awake, crying out in fear-"Father! Father!" Safar was too busy holding on to answer as Khysmet shrilled surprise, leaping high into the air. Safar and Palimak were nearly hurled off when he landed-hooves skittering on what seemed to be a reef rising from the ocean floor. They were rocked from side to side, but still Khysmet managed to keep his footing.

For a moment all was still. Then a blast of wind sheered in from the side, sweeping the snow away.

They were presented with an incredible sight. Looming over the tiny, barren island they now found themselves on was the immense stone image of a demon. It had a long narrow face topped by heavy brows that arched over deep-set eyes. Whoever had designed the statue had given it a sad smile, which added to the effect of the deep-set eyes, making the demon seem incredibly wise.

Safar remembered the face very well. It had been carved on the coffin lid he'd seen in his vision long ago.

It was the face of the great Lord Asper.

As they rode toward the statue Safar saw the Spirit Rider had stopped. She was waiting in front of a wide stairway that led up to the statue's open mouth-beacon still held high.

Khysmet perked up, whinnying at the black mare, who whinnied greetings in return. Safar's pulse quickened as they drew near.

The woman was just as beautiful as he remembered back in that moonlit clearing so many miles and months ago. Her face and form were so perfect she looked as if she'd been carved by a master artist from some rare ebony wood and her bright smile of greeting warmed the frozen lump deep in his heart.

She called out to him, "Only a little farther, my friend. Only a little farther."

Then she whirled the mare about, shouting, "This way to Syrapis!" And plunged up the broken staircase to disappear into the mouth of the statue.

Safar didn't have to urge Khysmet to follow. The big stallion lunged up the staircase after the mare and a moment later they were leaping through the opening.

There was a flash of white light. Then darkness-marked only by the distant beacon carried by the Spirit Rider. The beacon light steadied, then stopped.

Palimak whispered, "There's no danger, father. Everything's fine, now."

The light grew stronger then wider, until Safar realized it was no longer a beacon, but natural light shining through a cave opening.