Allan COLE - Wizard of the winds

"This is indeed disturbing news, Fari, the king said. You were right to report it to me. Does anyone know what these things mean? Could it have anything to do with our attempt to defy the curse?"

Fari jolted in surprise. He thought a moment, tapping his bone cane against the floor. Then he said, I don't know, Excellency. It's a thought that hadn't occurred to me."

"But it is possible, the king said.

"Yes, Majesty. I suppose it is."

"What would you advise? the king asked.

Fari saw the danger at once and sadly shook his head. I'm ashamed to admit, Excellency, Fari said, that I am at loss. Not enough is known to form an opinion."

"We must find out, the king said. It might be dangerous to begin my experiments until we do."

Fari nodded. I can see how that could be so, Majesty, he said. This is a most unfortunate situation. Your Excellency's plans for invading the human lands will most certainly suffer a delay."

"It can't be helped, Fari, the king said. Curses have a way of spreading beyond their original intent. There are so many links, some not even known to the original spell casters, that it's impossible to account for all the effects a curse might trigger. That's why I first sent bandits instead of our own soldiers across the Forbidden Desert.

"As much as it grieves me to say this, Fari, it would be wise for us to proceed cautiously. But I want you to spare no expense. I want all my stargazers working on this. All my dreamcatchers. And I want daily sacrifices to the gods at the main temple, with weekly ones for the lesser houses of worship."

"Yes, Excellency, Fari said, bobbing his head and rapping his cane. Without delay. He hurried off, relieved that he'd once again shifted all possible blame and responsibility onto the backs of others, while still being assured of winning praise and honors for any successes.

For a change, however, he did not leave a happy king in his wake. Manacia was deeply troubled as he turned back to examine the head. The old fear of a rival oozed up to torment him. A shiver ran up his long bony spine.

Manacia suddenly wondered if even now his enemy was thinking of him.

If so, did that enemy have a human face?

And if he did, was it possible he had already discovered the way through the Gods Divide.

Had he found Kyrania?

Not long after Manacia's eve of disappointment, Safar and Iraj said farewell. They made a ceremony of it, returning to Alisarrian's Cave and the snowy pass where they'd battled the demons. Storms had further buried the evidence of the carnage and as they pushed across the snows on rough wooden skis there was nothing to hint of the events that had occurred there.

"Maybe it was just a dream, Safar said. Maybe it never happened at all and any moment now we'll wake up to an ordinary day in ordinary two ordinary lives."

Iraj barked laughter. I've never been ordinary, Safar, he said. And, admit it or not, neither have you. You'd save yourself a lot of bother if you just accepted it. He grinned. If you dreamed Astarias, he said, then you have the greatest imagination of any man in Esmira courtesan, young, beautiful, virginal and trained in all the arts to please a man. That was no dream, my friend. To make her one would be the greatest sin any god could imagine. When you're an old man it'll be memories of women like Astarias that will make your life seem well spent."

Safar made a sour face. I'd just as soon forget about it, he said. I'm afraid I embarrassed myself with Astarias."

Iraj clapped him on the back. Don't be ridiculous, he said. So you fell in love with a courtesan. You're not the first man. Nor will you be the last. So you professed undying love. So you promised her the moon and the stars and all the heavens contain, if only she'd remain in your arms. I said that to both of my twins. Separately. And together."

"You didn't mean it, Safar said. I did, I'm ashamed to say."

"Of course I meant it, Iraj replied. At the time, anyway. Especially when I had one curled up in my left arm, the other my right."

"That was lust talking, Safar said.

Iraj snickered, then wrapped his arms around himself in a comic embrace. And yours was undying Love, right? A Love that could not be denied. Come, my friend!"

"She laughed at me, Safar confessed, blushing.

"What of it? Iraj answered. You rode her all night and half the next morning. And then, in a moment of weakness, you asked her to be your wife. She tells you, charmingly, I imagine, and with a few tricks to arouse you some more, that she has no intention of making bread and babies for a village boy the rest of her life. She's a courtesan with as much beauty as ambition. You persist. Climbing between those lovely thighs once again, I expect. Another blush from Safar told Iraj he'd guessed right. And then she laughed. You should be the one laughing. You got what you wanted. I saw to that. And now you're done with her and she's the loser for spurning you. You are Safar Timura! A man meant for great things. The very sort of man she prays every day is in her future."

"I can't look at things as coldly as you, Safar said.

"Don't then, Iraj said, shrugging. But I suspect you'll come around to my view soon enough. Bed your women when you can, whenever you can. A courtesan's scornful laughafter the deed is doneis no price at all. The truth is the next man who rides Astarias will be old and fat and it'll be your memory she'll cleave to when she's forced to pretend her fat old master is a handsome god."

Iraj's callous words of comfort, although spoken in friendship, did little to soothe Safar's wounded spirit. So he was grateful when Iraj gave a sudden shout of discovery.

"Look at this! he cried, dropping to his knees and digging in the snow.

Safar crowded close to see. A demon's face emerged beneath Iraj's scraping fingers. The corpse's features were a pale, bluish green. Dagger-size fangs hooked out from the grimacing mouth. Although Safar and Iraj had no way of knowing it, the demon was Giff and the look on his face was as surprised in death as it had been when Iraj had drawn his blade across his throat. Safar turned away.

"This is the demon I killed! Iraj said. I can tell from the wounds. With a finger he traced the gaping red gash beneath Giff's pointed chin.

"Cover him up, Safar urged.

"I will, Iraj said, but first he unsheathed his knife.

Safar glanced over and was horrified when he saw his friend digging out the fangs with the blade point. What are you doing?"

"Taking his teeth, Iraj said. I want to make a necklace of them."

Safar, who had never become used to his friend's plains savage ways, kept his eyes averted. I thought we'd agreed to keep the whole thing a secret, he said. So people don't become unnecessarily alarmed."

Iraj snorted. I'll keep my promise to Coralean, he said. But in my own way."

He held up the bloody fangs and Safar couldn't help but look. I'll make a chain of these to wear around my neck when I greet my enemies. They'll won't know what they are, exactly. But they'll be dripping green slime from their arses wondering what kind of a beast it was I killed."

Despite his revulsion, Safar understood. Iraj's kinsman had just arrived in Kyrania to inform the young prince it was safe to return home. Apparently Iraj's turncoat uncleLord Fulainhad fallen ill. His soldiers had become dispirited and his ally, Koralia Kan, had been forced to sue for peace. As part of that peace Iraj was permitted to return and take his place as hereditary leader of the clan. There were provisos, of course, intended to keep him weakleader in name only. But Iraj was already planning how to get around them.

Iraj put the teeth in a leather pouch and tucked it into his belt. Then he covered up Giff's corpse, smoothing the snow until all looked as before.