by Lyndon Hardy
"Of course, there are consequences in any such venture," the third suddenly said. "Perhaps it was the intent of the great right hand that such knowledge we were not meant to possess." The skyskirr pounded a shovel he was carrying against the floor and then touched the blade to the chest of the fourth, who slumped almost hidden behind the other three.
Kestrel looked at the last skyskirr for the first time. The deep-set eyes seemed not to focus but dart almost independently about the room. A thick drool ran from one corner of his mouth. With his hands, he picked at his loincloth, removing small pieces of lint that were not really there.
"Mortonzel has seen too much of gently curving horizons," the third skyskirr continued. "He has felt for too long the oppressive pull of the great lithon that binds all of you humans. Only occasionally are there winds to caress the full length of his hair." He turned and poked with the blade of his shovel at the chest of the first. "Now even the archimage dismisses us for something he says is of greater importance. It is a sign of the great right hand, I say. Let us begone. I feel the sickness of mind beginning to bubble within me as well. Build the flame, Purdanel, and summon the djinn that will return us to whence we came."
Purdanel looked quickly at the second skyskirr and then around the room. For a moment his eyes rested on Astron, who was slowly turning the pages of the book. "You may have the volume," he said. "It was to be a gift from the archimage but I think it will provide no value in the realm where the lithons fly."
Without waiting for an answer he grunted and pounded his own shovel twice against the floor. Purposefully, he marched out of the room. The other three skyskirr followed, the last being gently led.
Kestrel shook his head again. Lithons, the great right hand, soaring through the sky-it sounded most bizarre indeed. His intuition had been confirmed. If the skyskirr reacted so badly to the realm of men, then surely he would fare as poorly if transported to where they were from.
But before he could ponder more, a second door opened as quietly as the first. Someone else entered the room.
"I am Alodar, the archimage," the newcomer said. "Tell me quickly. What is the news of the sighting of Elezar the golden? Few know even the sound of his name. What is it that you have seen?"
Kestrel jerked his thoughts back to why they had come. He watched the archimage as he approached. Streaks of white ran through fine yellow-brown hair. Furrows of concentration had become permanently etched at the bridge of the nose. The purple robe hung simply over a slight frame. On one sleeve were the logos of all five of the crafts.
Kestrel looked most intensely at the eyes. They were alive with intelligence and a driving will shone through. He felt a surge of doubt about what he hoped to accomplish. The archimage was not one to be either easily fooled or tempted.
"It has been almost thirty years," Alodar continued. "Thirty years since our one and only encounter." The furrow above his nose deepened. "And the truth of it is that one is sufficient for any man. For all this time, I have hoped there would not be the need for another."
"There is also the matter of the wizards of Brythia," Kestrel said carefully. He pointed at Phoebe and her robe that she carried over her arm. "They are ill-disposed toward this master who has travelled a great distance to seek your aid in clearing her name. Ah, hers and the ones who accompany her as well."
Alodar stopped his rush into the room and quickly looked about. "Forgive my lack of hospitality," he said. "Find a chair to your liking. It is just that dealing with the likes of Elezar is so urgent that-"
Alodar stopped and his eyes narrowed. "What demon is this?" he asked, pointing at Astron. "Which of you have him under control and why is he dressed as a man?"
Astron looked up from the book he was perusing. He threw back his hood and tilted his head slightly in Alodar's direction. "My will is bound only to the service of my prince," Astron said. "I am Elezar's messenger, bidding that you contact him at once through the flame."
Alodar frowned. "Elezar can pass through the barrier only after many lesser demons have preceded him. Since our first battle, all wizards everywhere interact with great caution so that never do too many come through to our realm at any one time."
"Contact only, not passage, is what my prince desires." Astron stepped forward. "He is in great peril from his own kind and seeks out aid from the only one he acknowledges as greater."
"Few enough know even the name of the prince," Alodar said. "But perhaps you have somehow learned. If you are truly from the golden one, then you will have knowledge that others would not."
"His eyes are green but flecked with gold," Astron said. "His stature is but fingerwidths greater than mine. Hooded, he, too, could pass unnoticed in the realm of men. His-"
Alodar waved Astron to stop. He slumped into a chair at one of the crowded tables, then looked back at Kestrel with a a weary smile. "I would much rather handle a squabble among a dozen councils of wizards," he said, "or spend more time trying to squeeze one more secret from the lore recorded in this room." He arched his back and stretched. "But three decades of running from one crisis to another eventually take their toll. The glamor of being world-saver wears thin after perhaps the dozenth time."
Kestrel did not respond. He looked out of one of the high windows, but still saw no sign of any imps or djinns. There might be time enough after all. Soon he would learn which of Astron's words were no more true than the fancies that he himself wove. Hopefully from what he discovered he would be able to spin his own scheme to turn aside the Brythian wizards. He glanced at Alo-dar's intense expression, deciding how much his tale should dare.
"If you would assist," Alodar said to Phoebe, his reluctance apparently shoved aside without a moment's more thought. "I will light the fire in the hearth and attempt to see if what this demon says is true." He pointed to a well just outside one of the windows. "But if he has warped his words, be ready with a full bucket. I will want the flames doused before any great harm can be done."
Phoebe stepped forward cautiously. "I-I am not sure that I am worthy, archimage," she said. "Although I won the logo of flame fairly, even the small devil who is with us I could not command."
"I am the one who will challenge Elezar." Alodar shook his head. "Such a task I would wish upon no other. I do not need your skills as a master, just a quickness of eye and arm."
Phoebe let out her breath. She scowled, apparently annoyed at herself for the image that she presented. With a quick nod she scurried to do the archimage's bidding.
Kestrel and Astron watched the archimage deftly bring a simple flame to life in the stone-lined fireplace along the north wall. Alodar left for a moment and then returned with some powder that he flicked into the blaze. The fire immediately billowed and flashed into a rainbow of color.
As Phoebe returned with the water, Alodar pulled his chair directly in front of the growing flames. Making himself comfortable, he stared into their hypnotic dance. For a long moment, nothing more happened and Kestrel shifted his weight from one leg to another. His eyes darted around the room. He wondered about the propriety of taking a second chair for himself.
Then, just as he had about made up his mind to move, the flames flashed green and an eerie voice whispered from out of the hearth into the room.
"Ah, master, you have come." Kestrel heard a gentle sighing. "Astron has done well for his prince."
"He is so weak!" Alodar exclaimed. "This is hardly the one with whom I wrestled so long ago."
The archimage paused a moment, then immediately shook off his astonishment.
"What is it you wish?" he said. "We have decided long ago, Elezar, that the affairs of the realm of men were no longer to be your concern."
"So they are not," Elezar replied. "But I am one prince among many. I maneuver to keep the interests of the others away by your command and have succeeded because of my own great power."
The fire spit and sputtered.
"My prince has not recovered from his wound." Astron took a step toward the hearth
. "And by the weakness of his voice I would deduce that he has received another."
"But consider this, archimage," Elezar continued, apparently not hearing the voice of his cataloguer. "If my own power were to wane, who then would keep the other princes from coveting the realm of men as I did myself? And unlike creatures of my kind, you age, master. Are you ready again to undergo the test of wills that you undertook in your prime?"
"What other prince?" Aiodar leaned forward in his chair. "Who else in the realm of daemon focuses his thoughts in a way that should not be his concern?"
"There is Gaspar," Elezar said. "He has proven far more potent an adversary than I did first suspect. My own domain he has ripped from the void. And before his attack a full dozen other princes he had previously allied to his cause. My hiding places in the blackness he has found one by one. The dark node I now occupy is the last. There is little time left before I am overwhelmed. Do as my messenger directs; you can fight to save the realm of men now or wait till later when the outcome will be more in your disfavor."
Kestrel shook his head. He could barely believe what he was hearing. Imps and sprites or minor devils summoned with anvilwood were one thing, but warring demon princes and archimages were quite another. And evidently Astron's story was correct, just as he had stated from the first. What had he got himself into?
"These events are all very sudden," Alodar said. "I find it hard to believe that one as crafty as you, Elezar, would be reduced to such straits. I will need time to verify if what you say is true."
"Time is the luxury that you do not have, master," the flame whispered with Elezar's voice. "Gaspar hunts not only me but all who serve as well. In the last few ticks of the eon, many imps have crossed the barrier between our realms. Some have been instructed, I know, to track down my cataloguer-track him down so that mightier djinns can pluck off his limbs one by one, just as surely as Gaspar wishes the same fate for me. Each moment you hesitate brings closer the time when you must confront not one demon passing through the flame but more than a score. Discover what must be done before it is too late."
The flame sputtered. Elezar's voice faded into the glow of the hot coals. Kestrel strained to hear more but the whispers of the demon dissolved into indistinctness. Alodar frowned and then turned to look at Astron. "What then is the message of your prince?" he asked. "What would he have me do that would restore him to power and protect the realm of men as well?"
"The prince needs a transporter," Astron said. "One to carry matter between the realms. One whom he trusted you to choose."
"We have little traffic with the realm of the skyskirr," Aiodar said. "Ever since the metamagician Jemidon restored our laws to their natural state, the path between the two universes has been opened but rarely. It is merely by chance that you have arrived while some manipulants are also here."
"I do not think it is to the skyskirr that we must go," Astron said. "Their realm has little more diverse matter than my own. It would be somewhere else instead."
Alodar's eyes narrowed. "There are others, are there not?" he said slowly. "It was of course obvious after I learned of the existence of the 'hedron, but I dared not seek the definite proof. Contact with one other realm was disruptive enough. It would have been folly to explore too far."
"Yet, just as the number of laws number more than seven," Astron said, "so does the counting of the diverse universes that populate the void, each with its own essence and rituals, distinct from the rest."
Kestrel stirred uncomfortably. The conversation was about things he could well avoid. He would have to divert its course into matters of more direct concern.
"The wizards of Brythia are responsible for the imps of which this-this Prince Elezar speaks," he said. "Restricting the masters from such reckless action might help with your other problem as well."
Aiodar nodded absently but kept his attention on Astron. "What else then, demon," he said. "Of what other wonders should I know besides the multitude of realms?"
"There is the ultimate precept," Astron said. "That is what my prince seeks-the ultimate precept, a concept superior to the laws of magic, one transcendent to the metalaws behind them, the answer to the riddle that provides the greatest power of all."
"In which realm does one search for this ultimate of precepts?" Alodar asked.
"Only Palodad knows that," Astron said. "In exchange for bringing him some exotic matter from whence he directs us, he will tell us where to look."
"Palodad, additional realms, ultimate precepts." Alodar's frown deepened. "It is all too much to swallow at one sitting. Perhaps Elezar has constructed what we men call a fantasy and expects somehow to convince us that it is real."
"It is a chance for redemption," Phoebe interrupted suddenly. Kestrel saw that she had placed the bucket of water on the stone floor. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement.
"It came to me while the two of you conversed," she said. "I cannot continue through the rest of my life always blushing in apology for a single failure in my craft. I must strike out again and somehow prove a woman's worth. It is by accomplishment that I will yet show the wizards of my council the meaning of respect. By proven deed will I gain comfort, even in the presence of the archimage of all the crafts." She paused and took a deep breath. "And even though the archimage hesitates, then I will not. Tell me, Astron, is this Palodad strong-willed, like your prince?"
Kestrel bolted across the room. He put his hand on Phoebe's arm and looked over his shoulder at Alodar. "She has not quite recovered from the haste of our journey," he said quickly. "Dismiss her words as merely some nervous prattle."
He spun his head back around and looked at Phoebe intently. "This is no game with imps and sprites," he said. "Did you not hear the words from the flames and see the strange beasts the skyskirr were? Be careful or you will get us into a pit deeper than we presently are."
Kestrel stopped and studied Phoebe's expression. He did not like what he saw.
"Imps and sprites," she shot back. "Is that indeed all you think me capable of? If the need arose, despite your words, would you trust me with more?" She looked away for a moment and then disengaged herself from Kestrel's grip. "I know I stated when we began the journey that the adventure was all that mattered. But how can I be other than the demon's slave, if deep inside you cannot judge me to be your equal?"
Kestrel opened his mouth to speak, but he did not know what to say. For Astron to talk of other realms was his own business. No doubt at the root of his desires was the wish to return safely home, regardless of where that really was. And the affairs of demon princes were certainly the concerns of one such as the archimage. But Phoebe was another matter altogether. He glanced quickly at her sudden determination and shook his head. He must have been right when he first explained her words. It was the fatigue of the journey. In a calmer moment she would see the folly of dealing with such immensities just as clearly as he.
But Phoebe ignored his outstretched arm. She grabbed the sack of powder still at Alodar's feet and threw another handful into the dying flame. Thrusting the pouch into her cape, she took a deep breath as the fire roared back to life. "Palodad," she said. "Palodad, come forth. I command you to submit to my will."
"Who tugs and pulls at the one who reckons?" a deep voice suddenly boomed from the hearth in response. "He is no mighty djinn who can be commanded to burst asunder great rocks or wield bolts of awesome lightning. Begone! Let him be! Wrestle with someone else, someone more worthy of your mettle."
"If you are named Palodad, then you are the one I seek," Phoebe said. "Submit now to your master so that you might answer the questions that I have about realms other than my own."
"It is not the one who reckons whose tendrils of thought intertwine with yours. He is my prince. I speak on his behalf for all who come asking at the doors of his domain."
Kestrel hesitated, not knowing whether to rush forward and pull Phoebe away or let her be, so her concentration would not be disturbed.
Astron relea
sed one hand from the book he still clutched to his chest and tugged on Alodar's purple sleeve. "If the one that has been touched serves old Palodad, then it is just as well," he said. "He can learn from the old one and tell us in turn in which realm we are to seek-tell us what is to be brought back in fulfillment of the bargain to the one who has him duty-bound."
Kestrel saw Astron shudder. "In fact, the intimacy of mind is probably all the better with a minion than with the old one himself," the demon said.
Alodar's expression did not change for a moment, but then he nodded. He indicated for Phoebe to continue.
"Whose mind then do I touch?" Phoebe said. "Speak your name as token of submission to my will. Tell me how it will be that you will convey Palodad's thoughts. Be swift about it. There are many assembled here and the waste of time is great."
The flame flashed hotter. Kestrel felt a blast of warmth on his cheeks.
"I am Camonel, the one who carries," the voice rumbled deeply. "Prince Palodad has instructed that indeed I do submit to what you ask. We need not exercise the ritual of struggle. Feel my thoughts. I do not resist. He can speak through me as if my mouth were his own."
There was a brief pause while the fire danced wildly and then the demon behind the flames spoke again.
"Time, did you say time?" The words rolled out from the hearth. Kestrel heard what he thought was laughter and saw Astron take a cautious step backward. "Time-there is no way either to save or waste it." The flame spat and crackled. "It flows regardless, marching past to be lost forever. Do not speak to me of what even the most powerful of wizards cannot bend to his will." The laughter boomed again, this time more forceful, echoing from the stone walls and filling the room with sound.
"The riddle of the ultimate precept." Alodar forced his voice through the din. "Ask him if it is no more than a cleverly worded ruse on the part of Elezar the prince to seek again control of the realm of men?"