by Allan Cole
Tornadoes rose up like disturbed nests of dragons, roaring from one end of the plain to the other, destroying everything in their path. The craters proved to be entrances to deep caverns and at night millions of bats swarmed out. They hovered in dense black clouds, then flew away to some distant promised land where plump insects abounded. The bats returned each dawn, descending into the craters in great swirling columns as if they were being sucked into the Hells.
Everyone became fearful, starting at the slightest sound, continually casting nervous glances over their shoulders, trembling hands never far from a weapon. Although surrounded by hundreds of fellow villagers, each person felt oddly alone and vulnerable to the vagaries of evil chance.
Then they began to run low on supplies, especially feed for the animals. In the long, sustained dash to Caluz there had been little chance for the animals to forage. Now the stores of fodder were dangerously scarce and there was no place to stop and let the beasts fill up on the bounty of the fields. Nothing grew in that bleak land where even a thorn could not take root.
The alarmists on the Council of Elders wanted to abandon some of the wagons, killing and butchering the oxen, then drying the meat so they'd be certain to have enough food to reach Caluz. Their reasoning was that the wagons and animals could be replaced when they reached their goal.
Safar successfully argued that it was too great a risk. "What if something happens in Caluz that prevents us from buying more?" he'd said. "Then we'd be caught in a trap of our own making."
Actually, he was fairly certain there'd be no chance at all of replacing the wagons and animals. But if he told them what he really knew about Caluz he'd be hard pressed to keep them from running like the Hells in the other direction.
If truth be known, it wouldn't have taken much for Safar to join them in mad flight. From the moment he stepped foot into the Black Lands his wizardly senses had been assaulted by sudden magical disturbances-a rippling of the surface of the otherworlds, that made him feel unsteady, sick to his stomach. On a few occasions he was hit by a feeling of the deepest foreboding that something quite terrible was going to happen if he continued and it was all he could do not to order an immediate retreat.
If it weren't for the memory of the mysterious and beautiful Spirit Rider who'd come to warn him in the vision, he might have succumbed. True, she'd said he faced grave danger in Caluz. However, she'd also confirmed the necessity of the visit. The two things combined to give form to the dangers they faced.
Thus strengthened, he was able to cast shields to protect the other Kyranians from the worst of the rogue spells that made all seem so hopeless.
Palimak didn't seem to be as affected. The boy's growing powers seemed to shield him from the worst.
Since they'd entered the black lands Palimak's eyes were a constant glowing yellow and Safar could feel currents of power flowing from him.
Most surprising of all, the boy had a fairly good idea about what was happening.
One night Safar rode in from a scouting mission and found Palimak lying awake waiting for him. When he entered the tent the boy held up a finger urging silence.
He pointed at the stone turtle, whispering, "I just got them to sleep." He put a pillow over the idol, made a magical gesture to soften sound, then said in a normal voice, "There. That ought to do it."
"What's wrong?" Safar asked.
Palimak shrugged. "Gundaree and Gundara don't like it here," he said. "I don't either, but what can you do? Like grandfather says, 'this is the way the road goes so you just have to put up with it.'"
Safar nearly pinched himself. The boy frequently sounded like a miniature adult, but this was beyond the wisdom of a good many of the full grown adults in the caravan.
"You seem to be learning a lot from your grandfather," he said.
"Oh, sure," Palimak replied. "I was surprised myself. I didn't know he knew so much, being kind of old and everything." He frowned. "I don't mean old is dumb, but sometimes it is pretty cranky. And cranky people don't seem to think very well. They just get mad for no reason and say 'get out of here,' instead of trying to find out what's happening."
Safar smiled. The child was plainly speaking of his grandmother, who tended to have less patience with the boy. How ironic. When Safar was a child it was his mother who was full of understanding and his father who, in Palimak's words, was "pretty cranky."
He held out his arms and Palimak scrambled into his lap and snuggled against him. He stayed there for a time, breathing deeply and Safar remembered the comfort he'd felt in his own father's arms many years ago.
Then the boy rose up, saying, "Is it a machine that's doing it father?" he asked. "Making everything feel so bad, I mean?"
Safar was mildly surprised. "How did you guess?"
"Oh, it wasn't so hard," Palimak said. "I was just thinking about what could be causing all that bad magic and I couldn't see a person doing it. You know, like a wizard or a witch. Even a whole lot of them together couldn't keep on making so much magic all the time. So then I thought, maybe a machine could do it. A great big machine."
He shook his head. "The only thing is, why's it doing it? It's just sort of shooting off lots and lots of power and a whole lot of spells that don't seem to do anything for any special reason. Except make people feel really bad. Why would a machine want to do that, father?"
Safar hesitated, then said, "I suppose I'd better tell you, so you know what's ahead. But first you have to promise to keep it a secret."
Palimak was excited. "I'm good at secrets," he said. "Ask anybody. Ask Grandfather, even. He'll say I never, ever tell." Then he frowned. "Except I guess you can't ask him or anybody else," he said. "'Cause they'd know there was a secret, which would spoil the whole thing."
"Don't worry," Safar said, smiling. "I'll take your word for it."
"Does Leiria know?" Palimak asked.
"Some of it. But she's the only one. I didn't want to frighten people."
"Is Caluz a bad place, father?" the boy asked.
"I'm afraid so, son," he said. "You've seen how everything looks around here. I honestly didn't know it would be like this. So I have to think that Caluz might be worse."
"Is that where the machine is?"
"Yes."
"And that's what's causing all this?"
"There's other things involved, but yes, it's mainly the machine."
"But if Caluz so is so awful, why are we going there?"
"There's an oracle we need to visit," he said. "For reasons so important that I think it's worth the risk we're taking."
"Will it help us with Iraj?"
"I'm not sure. Possibly. But that's not my sole purpose."
He saw the boy's puzzled look. Safar knew he was wondering what could be more important than escaping Iraj Protarus.
"I'll tell you the story," Safar said, "and then maybe you'll understand."
He settled back, remembering when he'd first heard of Caluz and its oracle. "It started long before you and your mother came to Zanzair looking for me," he said. "I had just been appointed Iraj's Grand Wazier…"
…Day was fading to night and from his hilltop home Safar could see the oil lamps blooming all over the ancient city of Zanzair. The dying rays of the sun danced on the gold demon-head towers of the Grand Palace, where Iraj had been recently crowned king of all Esmir. He had made his main court in the old demon seat of power to symbolize that he was king of demons and humans alike. Even so, with an influx of humans seeking opportunity in the capital of the young and progressive king, Zanzair remained stubbornly demon. It was a place of mystery and secrets that were already swirling about the throne just as they had in the days of the demon kings. Safar had learned quickly to trust no one and always to mind his back. So when one of his gate guards became ill and was replaced by a stranger from the royal barracks, Safar decided to keep an eye on him to see if there was some hidden purpose behind the illness and the replacement.
He noticed right away the fellow was erratic ab
out who he would admit to see Safar and who he wouldn't. Safar's duties were wide and in this climate of constant double dealing he need to keep his door open to anyone with legitimate business. He'd admonished the man the night before, so he was particularly watchful that day, peering out his study window whenever he heard someone approach.
At first everyone seemed to be properly handled, then Safar saw a man approach riding a little donkey.
He was a tall man, with an unkempt beard and dusty, much-patched robes. He made a comical figure as he approached, sitting crossways on the donkey's back, sandals dragging across the cobbles. The guard barred his way and although the man argued strongly, Safar could see his employee's mind had been made up and nothing the visitor could say would sway him.
An argument ensued. Safar couldn't hear the details at first, but then the visitor lost his temper, shouting,
"How dare you treat me in this manner! I am a priest, I tell you! Here to see Lord Timura on important business!"
The guard responded by shoving the man toward his donkey and ordering him to leave. At that moment Safar decided if the guard were a spy, he was not only an incompetent one but rude to boot, so he sent his majordomo to intervene. A few minutes later the guard was summarily dismissed and the visitor was brought to Safar's chambers.
"Please accept my apologies, kind sir," Safar said, "as well as the hospitality of my house. Anything you desire is yours. Food. Drink. A bath and a place to sleep. Whatever you require."
"I require nothing, My Lord," the man said, "other than to beg your attention on a matter of utmost importance."
Nevertheless, Safar sent for refreshments and a servant with hot towels and perfumed water and waited until the trail grime had been wiped away and the man was sitting in a comfortable chair with a glass of brandy in his hand.
"Now, speak to me," Safar said after the man had taken his first drink and he'd seen color flood his cheeks. "Tell me of this urgent business."
"I am called Talane, my lord. A priest in the temple of Caluz. The High Priest has sent me all this way to tell you of the calamity that has befallen us and to plead for your assistance."
He gestured at his raggedy robes, which when examined closer still retained the faint symbols of a priest's robes. "You would never know to look at me, lord, but I started out for Zanzair over a year ago with an entourage of scholars and soldiers and wagons loaded with rich gifts to place at your feet. Alas, after many misadventures on those bandit-infested roads I now possess only these robes. The wagons are gone, the soldiers dead or vanished like the cowards many of them were. As for the rest of my priestly colleagues, only I survived to complete the journey."
Immensely interested, Safar urged him to continue. Not long before he'd encountered a reference to Caluz in Asper's book. The demon wizard had speculated that the area was a source of much natural magical activity. Word had come from the human lands that a fabulous temple had been erected at a place in the Black Lands where two rivers joined. It was said to be near a small village named Caluz. The temple, Asper said, was shaped like an immense turtle and it rose out of the place where the two rivers became one. Water rushed through the center of the turtle, he said, rotating a huge wheel which in turn operated magical machinery inside the temple, sending out a constant stream of spells that nourished the spirit as well as the land.
There was one other thing Asper had said about the temple.
"Forgive my ignorance, holy one," Safar said, "but wasn't Caluz once known for its famous oracle?"
Talane nodded. "It still is, my lord," he said. "It's called The Oracle of Hadin."
Safar felt something move in his pocket, then a little voice whispered, "Ask him about the turtle." It was Gundara, stirred from his home by the mention of Hadin.
"What did you say, my lord?" Talane asked. "Something about a turtle?" He sighed and took a sip of his brandy. "I fear my ordeal has affected my hearing. All of a sudden your voice became quite faint."
Safar pretended to cough. "My fault," he said. "A chill coming on, I think. But, yes, I did use the word turtle. I was referring to your temple, where the Oracle keeps her home. Isn't it in the shape of a turtle."
"Yes, my lord. It's in honor of the turtle god who carries Hadin on its back. That's on the other side of the world, you know."
"That's my information as well," Safar said dryly.
"Sorry. Of course you would know that. I'm told you are a great scholar. A learned man as well as a master wizard."
Gundara snorted. "If he only knew!" the little Favorite whispered.
Talane gave Safar a look of sympathy. "The chill again, my lord?"
Another cough. "Yes. Forgive me." Safar gave his pocket a warning tap. Once more and Gundara was in for it.
"I'm sure you also know of the old tale that there is a holy force-you would probably call it magical-that runs between Hadin and Caluz. Like a river running straight through the world."
"I've heard that tale before," Safar said. "Although never in detail." Actually he had only just guessed it.
The priest's comments, plus Safar's years of studying Asper had led him to the conclusion. Talane told him about the temple and the great wheel inside that had churned out magical spells for many centuries.
"Our land was once a poor place," he said, "a bleak place of wild storms and mountains that spat fire.
But then a holy man, whose name is lost to us, found the magical springs running under the place where the rivers join. No one knows what he did there, but somehow word got out and other holy men came.
The first man vanished, the others stayed and built the first temple-the one standing now is much larger and more powerful. They cast spells to bless the land and when the wheel began to turn a miracle resulted. The land became rich, the weather tame, the mountains silent."
"And the oracle?" Safar asked.
"Yes, the Oracle of Hadin came into being during that time. People came from all over Esmir to consult it.
Even Alisarrian made a pilgrimage on his way to conquer all of Esmir."
"She gave him a glowing forecast I take it?" Safar asked with a touch of sarcasm. Methydia had taught him that there were notorious frauds in the oracle profession.
"Actually, my lord," Talane said, "it is written that the Oracle warned Alisarrian he would someday be betrayed by those closest to him."
Which is exactly what had happened to Alisarrian-betrayal, death and the eventual destruction of his kingdom. At that moment Safar began to take the Oracle seriously.
"What do you require of me?" he asked. "As the Grand Wazier I can authorize many things to assist our priests. Construction funds, increased temple subsidies, scholastic endowments. That sort of thing."
Talane lowered his head as if in shame. "What we need, my lord," he said, "is a means to make the wheel stop!"
Safar was surprised. "But why would you want to stop something so wondrous?" he asked. "The very source of all your happiness and wealth."
"It is now the source of the greatest misery, lord," Talane said bitterly. "Something terrible has happened.
Only bad spells, malicious spells, are being churned up now. Our fields are barren, our newborn deformed and one of the mountains has even begun to spit fire."
"I'm desolate to hear of your people's misfortune, holy one," Safar said, "but what's the difficulty? Why can't you stop the wheel on your own?"
"Perhaps we could have done it once," Talane said. "But now anyone who approaches with such an intent is killed the moment he touches the wheel."
"What does your oracle say?" Safar asked.
Talane sighed. "Only that she warned us this would happen and we didn't listen."
"Perhaps you'd better tell me exactly what happened," Safar said.
The tale was a simple one of human greed's many victories over common sense. It happened some years back-about the time, Safar guessed, he'd had his youthful epiphany in the mountains above Kyrania.
Talane said one day the Oracle summ
oned all the priests. When she appeared she was weeping, which frightened everyone. She said a great disaster had occurred in Hadin. And that tragedy would have so great an affect on the world that she couldn't see the future after a point not many decades hence. What she did foresee was that Caluz would be among the first to suffer. Their only hope, she said, was to prepare for the worst. Store food and drink and carefully husband all their resources in hopes they could weather the bad times to come. But most of all, she urged them to stop the wheel. Her final warning came as a great shock to everyone. Oh, they'd been frightened by her dire predictions and mysterious remarks about the disaster in Hadin. But in reality those things seemed so distant, so surreal, they couldn't imagine them.
The wheel was a different matter. All they could see was that the moment it was halted all the good things that made Caluz so rich would stop as well. Fortunes were at stake and important men were not pleased when the priests brought them the news. A great argument ensued, settled when the king ordered a royal commission to meet and study the Oracle's remarks closely. Perhaps the priests had misinterpreted her.
Maybe she meant some other wheel. All kinds of alternatives were suggested, each one more foolish than the others. Years passed, the commission continued to meet, but nothing was ever done. Early on a young priest was so scandalized by the blasphemy against the Oracle that he attacked the wheel with an ax. He'd chipped a large hunk of one blade off before they stopped him and carried him away to the dungeons.
"That's how we know it was once possible to destroy the machine," Talane said. "But when a team of engineers tried the same thing two years ago, every man was blasted on the spot by some mysterious force. All seven were killed, may their ghosts be at rest."
Safar thought a moment, then said, "I can't see how I can help you find a solution from such a distance, holy one. I'd need to visit Caluz and consult with your High Priest and best scholars. I'm not opposed to making such a journey, mind you. Even if I were so unfeeling that I didn't sympathize with your plight, I have personal reasons to come. Unfortunately, it will be several months before I can take leave from my king."