by John White
The followers of Gaal surged toward the cliff. Arms jabbed up from the crowd. They pointed to the sky over the lake. Their mingled shouts formed into one word repeated over and over: "Gaal!"
Hazilon ran to the back edge of the crowd. He looked above their milling, bobbing heads to the place where their hands pointed. White heaps of clouds, tinged with the red of sunset, hung high above the water. Among them rode another white form that was not cloud. It had the shape of a man in a long robe. He stretched out his arms in welcome. His feet stood on the air. His face-Hazilon grimaced. Was that the best the Dark Lord could do? At least the face contorted into something like a stiff smile.
The crowd moved closer to the cliff's edge. They cheered. They wept. Koach howled long, unearthly cries. Soldiers of Queen Hisschi fell on one knee or covered their faces. Hazilon watched in awe. Never had he witnessed such emotion. He was almost afraid of it.
Charaban found himself dangerously near the edge of the cliff when the crowd surged forward. He was furious! The false Gaal had fooled him for only a few seconds. As a soldier in Kardia's army, he had seen Gaal more than once. The queen had to be behind this! With the force of very old habit, Charaban reached for a sword at his side. Of course, there was none. The crowd shoved him and threw him off balance. He tried to limp to a safer spot. His leg buckled beneath him. As he fell, strong hands caught him and helped him away from the cliffs edge. He looked up into the concerned face of the young official from the hall of inquiry.
When Charaban was steady on his feet again, the official asked, "Is that truly Gaal? I have never seen him."
"That is no more Gaal than I am!" Charaban roared. The young official drew back in surprise. He sputtered, "Then what-why-"
"They released me from prison with no explanation. Then I heard that Gaal had appeared and told us to come here. If I had seen that mockery there, I would gladly have stayed in prison! Ali well, perhaps it was further away and more convincing." He looked around at the crowd with pity. "It deceives most of them. Help me warn them that danger is here. Though I cannot guess what the Dark Lord hopes to gain by this charade."
The answer came quickly. Hazilon, near the woods, first felt the distant vibration. It rose to a hum, then a roar. Terrified birds shot out of the woods. Trees shook. The weaver bee swarm burst from the forest and rolled over the priest's head in a raging mass. It was far larger than the swarm that had attacked Betty and the Friesens when they first arrived in Anthropos. Thousands of bees flooded onto the grounds of the royal lodge.
Hazilon crouched low and hoped Lunacy spoke the truth when he promised to protect him. Aloud he said, "I am a fool! Lord Lunacy-speak the truth? He lured these people to their deaths with false promises!"
In seconds the crowd noise altered. Happy shouts changed to screams. Cries of "Gaal! Gaal!" became shrieks of "Bees!" Frantic trampling of feet jumbled with the roar of the swarm. The bees halted, circled briefly and fanned out in a semicircle to cut off the crowd from escape into the woods. Regenskind and Matmon screamed, "Gaal, help us!" and raised their hands to the image. Koach sent up spine-tingling howls. The robed man in the sky continued to smile benignly. His arms were still extended, but he offered no help. With a heightened roar, the bees advanced. The soldiers and followers of Gaal could flee in only one directionthe high cliff above Lake Nachash.
Hazilon turned away. Bad enough to watch the monsters at work. But to watch them kill hundreds of innocents while they screamed for mercy! He shook the idea from his mind. This mob did not matter. He could spare no sympathy for them. They were only bait to lure the Enemy here. Then the real work would begin, when Hazilon joined all Lunacy's forces to battle the real Gaal.
He listened harder. The crowd no longer screamed. They cheered! Had they truly lost their minds? He straightened from his protective crouch and looked toward the cliff. His eyes grew wide. He fell on his knees on the soft ground of the field.
A white pigeon descended along a column of'brilliant blue light. The blue column was like a shaft of sunlight from high up, though the sun itself was about to set. Neither did the column come from anywhere near the false Gaal. The pigeon fluttered rapidly downward to a point above the heads of the tallest people in the crowd. It hovered there between Gaal's followers and the bees. Its wings worked constantly. The bees stopped their advance. They zipped around in tight little circles. A few bees darted at the pigeon and ricocheted away as though they had hit a glass wall. The Gaal followers took a few cautious steps toward the bees. Smiles lit their faces.
Hazilon watched the scene in disbelief: a line of vicious weaver bees spinning in little circles, a single hovering white bird, hundreds of amused faces, and a white-robed man who stood in the sky and smiled a vacant smile.
The crowd began to laugh, joke and shove each other in glee. Small clusters of weaver bees darted away into the forest. More and more flew off until the few remaining bees gathered in a tight little swarm. The pigeon fluttered its wings a bit faster. The swarm took off into the trees. Above Lake Nachash, the false image began to fade, exactly as haze burns off in the sun. It was still smiling and holding out stiff arms when it disappeared.
The crowd cheered and stamped their feet. The shaft of blue light narrowed to nothing and was gone. The pigeon flew to the ruined cottage and settled onto its roof as the sun slid below the horizon. Chilly breezes began to blow up from the lake. Several Marmon dragged dead limbs from the woods and started a line of bonfires along the cliff top. Gaal's followers and the royal soldiers sat or stood around the fires and talked about what these strange events could mean.
On the Island of Geburah the Lord of Darkness watched from the southern wall of the fortress. He picked up a loose chunk of stone and hurled it far into Lake Nachash. Everything had gone wrong! The Enemy had sent that detestable bit of fluff to do his work. Was he too cowardly to show up and rescue his followers? Lunacy's thin lips compressed into a hard angry line. Perhaps the Hated One did not think the weaver bees were worthy opponents. Perhaps he would not come unless he had more challenging foes. Lunacy would be glad to provide them.
Night came on fast. The Dark Lord loved this time. Night was when he could unleash his most wicked and effective forces.
When the pigeon came clown, Emmy the serving girl and her two friends were toward the back of the crowd, dangerously near the bees. They clapped and cheered as the bees left and the Gaal image faded from the sky.
"It weren't Gaal at all!" Emmy said to the others. "I had a funny feeling about it. The eyes weren't right, you know. I've never seen him, but I hear lie's got wonderful eyes. This one had the eyes of a dead fish."
One of the other girls pointed to the cottage. "Look, Emmy, the bird's gone over to that wreck of a house. It's twisting its head this way and that. Think it wants us to go over there?"
The three girls walked over to the ruined cottage. The pigeon darted around to the front door and fluttered in. A moment later it came back out, looked at the girls, cocked its head and disappeared inside once more. Cautious but not afraid, the girls pushed the door open wider and went in.
A few minutes later they emerged with armloads of bread, cheese and fruits. "Fresh as from the palace kitchens!" they marveled. Emmy said, "Too bad there isn't enough to go around. We'll feed the little ones first." They carried the food to the first bonfire and began to hand it out. Gaal's followers ate and kept eating. They (lid not run out of food until everyone in the crowd had eaten their fill. Even Hazilon ate, though he stayed in the shadows. The only ones with it trace of a complaint were the Koach, who would have liked a bone or two to chew on.
They had barely finished their food when screams split the night air. They looked up to see streaks of flame shooting across the sky.
"Where do we go now?" asked Lisa. "Back to where we got the raft?" The four of them had made their escape from the island, and fortunately no one seemed to be following them.
"I don't know," said Kurt between heavy breaths brought on by his forceful paddling
. "I haven't seen the pigeon since it went back through the door in the Garden Room. Maybe we should go south instead to the lodge."
"But look at those flames!" said Wes. "What is that all about?" The Friesens peered at the fires on the far shore.
"I don't think it's a forest fire," Lisa said. "There are five fires, evenly spaced, like a row of bonfires." Then she remembered. "It's the Gaal followers! The ones who paraded past our tree!"
"At least the fires show us where the cliff is," Kurt said. "And look! There's a column of blue light over there too. Yes, that's definitely where we should head. The pillar- of blue light always guided us true in the past. The dock should be just about below the center bonfire. Steps go up the cliff from there."
"Sounds good to me," said Wes. "Lisa, head us over in that direction. By the way, I think you girls can take off the Mashal stone now. Nobody can see us out here anyway."
"But it's fun!" Betty protested. "Think of everything you could do if nobody could see you." Her mind ran ahead to the possibilities at River Heights School.
"The Mashal Stone isn't something to play around with," Wes warned her. "We're to use its powers in the service of Gaal, not for ourselves. It's like the Sword of Geburah. Or the Book of Wisdom you found."
Betty considered this. "Gaal told me to be careful about power. I think I see what you're getting at. But I still like the feeling." She removed the gold cord. The two girls came back into view in the weak-reflected starlight from the lake. Betty started to hand the Mashal Stone to Lisa. Lisa leaned over to take it and felt the Book of Wisdom in her belt. She straightened and said, "You hold onto the Mashal Stone, Betty. Just remember what Wes said about it."
Betty's eyes stung. She wished she were invisible again. She didn't know what to say. It didn't matter, for at that moment it horrid scream split the dark air above them. A streak of flame shot across the sky and struck the water only yards from the raft. A violent hiss of steam boiled up. Seconds later, hot water sloshed onto the raft. Wes said in awe, "It's a battle!"
"Looks like Lunacy has called out his Qadar!" said Kurt. He and Wes dug in and paddled harder.
Betty's voice shook. "What battle? What's a Qadar?"
"Night warriors that ride batlike creatures. They fly faster than anything," Kurt explained. He stopped talking to save his wind for paddling.
Lisa peered up at the stars. "I don't think they can see us clearly. This raft won't show up much against the dark water."
Betty was confused. "What was that splash, Did one of them crash near us?"
Wes gave it short laugh. "Don't we wish! That was one of their . flatting spears."
"The book!" Lisa cried. She got out the Book of Wisdom and held it before her, the tiller-paddle jammed under her elbow. "I'll use it if they dive at us."
"Don't let go of the tiller!" Wes reminded her. "Keep a steady course for the center bonfire!"
"I'll do the tiller," Betty said. "I can do it with one hand and hold the Mashal Stone with the other. But Lisa, how is the book going to-"
Piercing screams ripped the sky. Overhead two black forms blocked out the stars. They appeared to circle, but they also grew larger. They were spiraling downward. Lisa opened the book. A wide beam of blue light shot out. One of the shapes burst into flame and veered away, plunging into the lake with an explosion of steam. The raft rocked and pitched in waves of hot water.
Lisa pointed the blue light at the second Qadar, but the motion of the raft threw her aim off. A spear of fire struck the edge of the raft and spun off into the lake. The Qadar swooped down and passed over their heads with the force and sound of a fighter jet. Savage wind nearly ripped them from the raft. As it passed, the Qadar screamed. By instinct Lisa almost dropped the book and covered her ears. She held on and aimed the blue light at the racing shadow she could now barely see. The Qadar burst into a ball of fire and sank into the lake in another gigantic hiss of steam.
"The Mashal Stone!" Kurt said. "Maybe they'll think we all jumped off the raft!"
Betty's hand was frozen on the tiller. She could hardly think of handling the Mashal Stone. She fumbled for it and almost dropped it between the logs of the raft. She said, "We can't all get inside it. And anyway, I'm all thumbs. And anyway-"
`Just keep us headed straight," Wes answered shortly.
The boys paddled. Betty steered. Lisa clutched the Book of Wisdom and watched for Qadar. Three more times they dived close and she used the book. Two attackers plunged into the lake. The other fled in a zigzag course, apparently injured. A muffled splash told them it was finished.
The direct attacks ended. The Qadar still screamed and raced across the stars, but they were distant now. The boys eased off their frantic paddling. They sucked in the cool night air. The bonfires drew closer and higher. Their reflections made yellow splashes on the water. Lisa said, "There are people up there, all right. Gathering around the bonfires. I think they'd been sitting by the fires and ran away from the Qadar."
"Backpaddle," Wes ordered suddenly. He and Kurt brought the raft's progress to a halt. The wind now pushed them sideways along the base of the cliff. Dimly they saw the little (lock.
"Maybe I should sneak up and reconnoiter. We don't know for sure yet why they're there," Wes said.
"If the Qadar were after them, they must really be Gaal's people," Kurt answered.
"Yes, but still ... What's that?" The others strained to see or hear what Wes meant. "Splashes," he whispered. "Downwind. Must be close."
Now the others heard it. A splash and a creak. A splash and a creak. Lisa whispered, "Oars."
"Stealthy oars," whispered Wes. "Betty, it's time for the Mashal Stone."
Betty unrolled the long gold thread. Lisa, Kurt and Wes drew in their paddles and laid them on the raft. They all shifted to the center of the raft and sat close together. Betty dropped the gold thread over their heads, and the raft became an empty abandoned craft adrift on the lake. It continued downwind toward the unseen rowboat.
A gruff voice emerged from the dark. "Think it's all right to leave the cove?"
Another voice. "What else can we do? Something has gone badly wrong. The Lord of Darkness will not be pleased."
"I fear his wrath. Can we not appease him if we finish off the survivors?"
"Fool! They all survived! Did you see any come over the cliff?"
A creak and a splash. A creak. Then a sharp voice: "Boat ahead!" A solid shadow crossed the reflections of the bonfires. The raft spun slowly as the rowboat approached.
"Empty raft," grumbled one of the voices. The speaker risked raising his voice. "Over here! Found something!"
Another rowboat approached with a more rapid creak and splash. A cold voice spoke. "We are to take no captives. Kill them."
"It's only a raft. Empty and adrift." The first rowboat loomed out of the darkness. Its bow bumped up against the raft. Two bent figures sat low in the boat. The one who rowed put out a hand and felt the logs of the raft. His hand passed close to Wes's foot. Wes silently drew up his legs.
The second rowboat came into shadowy view. A scornful voice said, "Matmon construction. Deserters from our majestic Lord of Darkness?"
"More likely fanatics of the Detestable One. Qadar must have got 'em. They deserved it. Strange-no sign of scorching." The second boat now bumped against the raft. There was a short silence. "How goes it above?"
"All unaware, the fools. His miserable lordship readies his next attack. I know not what it is."
"Say, this raft is well-made. I could use a good raft such as this." One of the figures in the second rowboat moved forward to inspect the raft. The children did not dare to breathe. The figure in the boat turned to his companion. "You may row back alone. I shall take this craft." He started to climb out of the boat onto the raft. His hand touched Kurt's foot. Kurt did not move. The figure put all his weight on his hand and started to transfer himself onto the raft. Kurt bit his lower lip against the pain.
The man now had both hands and one knee on the raf
t. Wes, Lisa and Betty scooted away. They made slight scuffling sounds, but the man made noise of his own, and the raft rocked and splashed slightly as he boarded. He started to pick up a paddle. Lisa realized she was sitting on it. She tried to lift herself up and let the paddle slide from beneath her. The man shifted himself fully onto the raft and called to his companions, "Farewell! I shall paddle myself back to the fortress of the Mystery. If I am not there by dawn, do not search for me!"
Wes yanked the gold cord from his neck and leaped to his feet with the Sword of Geburah already out of its scabbard. Blue light shot from the blade. It illuminated a stunned face on the raft and three shocked faces in the rowboats. A swordsman with it weapon of lightning had come from nowhere! His young strong voice echoed off the cliff: "In the name of Gaal the Ever-Living One! In the name of the Unchanging Changer!"
The sword came down. The man on the raft cried out and toppled into the water. He floundered and thrashed about. Wes slashed at the remaining man in the boat. The two figures in the other boat grabbed for their oars. Suddenly the water stirred, as if something struggled beneath the surface. The man in the water screamed and went under.
Wes hesitated, unsure what had happened. The solitary boater picked up an oar and shoved it against the raft to send his boat away. He fumbled the oar and dropped it. As he reached for it, his arm went below the surface. He shrieked and half-stood in the boat. From his hand dangled a writhing length of greenish-black snaky body.
"Efel spawn!" he howled. The second boat shoved off hard from the first and sent both boats out of range of the raft. Someone shouted, "They're climbing into the boat!" All three men now screamed and bellowed. The water churned violently. The men cursed and swung their oars against each other. A splash came, then another, as the two boats spun beyond the sword's light.
"Efel spawn!" Wes said. "Head for the dock fast!" Kurt and Lisa snatched up paddles and dug in. Wes sheathed the Sword of Geburah and sat heavily. Betty thrust the rudder-paddle into the water. Her voice trembled, but she was businesslike as she asked, "The middle bonfire?"