Timura Trilogy - The Gods Awaken Part 19

Jooli shrieked in horror. She broke away from her grandmother and bolted from the room, Clayre angrily calling after her to come back. But Jooli closed her ears to her grandmother's commands and ran to her room where she hid under her bed all day and all night.

The next morning, Clayre sent a burly slave to fetch her. Jooli protested, but it was no use. The slave grabbed her by the feet and dragged her out from under the bed. On the way to Clayre's chambers they pa.s.sed the Grand Wazier's room. To Jooli's relief, she heard him groaning in pain. At least he was alive!

She got a peek into the room and saw him sprawled on his bed, a b.l.o.o.d.y bandage around his throat.

Puzzled doctors were in attendance.

As she was rushed down the stairs to her grandmother's sanctum, the ghastly murals on the walls took on new meaning to Jooli and she was even more terrified when she entered the chambers. Thankfully, her grandmother was absent--off on some errand. The slave told her to sit and wait Clayre's return. He disappeared up the stairs, leaving her alone. Suddenly, she gripped her neck--wondering if her grandmother was making a Jooli doll. Was her head about to be lopped off?

Just then, a soft, sweet voice called to her: "Joo-lii! Joo-lii!"

Startled, she looked around. But there was no one else in the room.

Again: "Joo-lii! Joo-lii!"

There! It came from behind her. She turned, but all she could see was the beautiful mural of the King and his warrior daughters. Then a light glittered in the armor of one of the princesses. It was the dark-skinned woman on the black mare! Jooli leaned closer. Her eyes widened and she saw the woman's hand move.

The princess of the mural was waving to her! Beckoning?

And she saw the lips move and heard: "Come to us, Jooli!"

The child stretched out her hand. There was a gentle tingling sensation and suddenly there was a roaring in her ears. The ground heaved under her, but she wasn't afraid. And then she was flying through the air, her arms around the narrow waist of the Sprit Rider. The wind blasting in her face as they rode the black mare through a starry sky.She peered around the Spirit Rider's shoulder. Far away she saw a glorious golden city. The city of the mural: The ancient Kingdom of Hunan!

Jooli lived there for a year. It was the happiest year of her life.

She paused in the telling of her tale. A mischievous smile graced her lips.

"While I was there," she said, "they taught me a song. They called it the *Song of Safar Timura.'

Would you like to hear it?"

Everyone said they would. And this was the song she sang, in a high clear voice that made her audience laugh and cry and sigh: Colored lights play, smoky mist swirling low; Two indistinct figures catch spotlight's glow, Bow in the center as breathless crowd waits For the fates to decree, On with the Show!

On gyring wheel *neath Kyranian sky Vessels take shape under artisan's eye.

Master's young son laughs to magic the clay; 'Cross Black Land afar spins circle awry.

In wizard's den on high mountain tor, Protarus unveiled, mighty conqueror.

Demon-fang casting the perils disclose That brothers of spirit must stand before.

The road divides, leads to glory or doom Writ by silver stars and the crimson moon.

One to Walaria, wizardly school'd By generous caravan master's boon.

Protarus, the bloodier path does take Crush spirit and flesh, an empire to make.

Victor triumphant, but victim of war Honor held captive for cruelty's sake.

Spell-magic and wisdom the potter gain, While dancers of death whirl *neath burning rain.

Swift thief, young girl, bears a talisman strong A gift to fight fire with love's brighter flame.

Upon the ages-blackened turtle's dome The map of journey's danger, fiery home Of Hadin's mountain; h.e.l.l of earthly end?

Can valor save what Asper saw to come?

Within, the Favorites sleep, then wake to see Their master, strong Safar, whose prophecy Demands they heed Iraj's deadly call The wizard's vision calls relentlessly.

Which high-born son's path must evil beware, Child of the mountain or war chieftain's heir?

Both stride with power, yet wisdom's undone; The gyre off-balance, the G.o.ds unaware.

Above! Converge the signs of Khysmet's paths: Demon moon portends empires' b.l.o.o.d.y clash, Sky-borne circus, star-crossed, young wizard bears,While Hadin's bellows raise the fiery ash.

Iraj, icon of Alissarian To restore the kingdoms of Two to One Ensorcels his soul to confound Safar Can brothers' blood oath be ever undone?

Demons, cold allies, he marches before By compact with h.e.l.l, now bound evermore.

The potter's dreams shaped like clay on the wheel Lie shattered in pieces by the Unholy Four.

Desert sands to mystic Caluz soon lead, Place of Hantilia's astonis.h.i.+ng deed.

Great turtle, apostate, artifice bent, The wheel of Hadin's malevolence, Heed!

The wolf's stride lengthens, the chase faster make, Speed sorcery's evil and sword's bright hate Sharp as the arrow in Nerisa's breast And will doom be sealed when the G.o.ds awake?

Two paths, divergent, *cross sinister seas Might alchemy meld to one Destiny.

A race to gain mighty Asper's abode Syrapis' secrets behind fierce Charize.

Three for the quest to battle Esmir's woe Banner'd with courage against demon foe Wizard, warrioress, and magical child Will only the three be allies enow?

But wait! Now Four! Joins a mysterious queen Once hostage, once ally, spirit-realm seen; Her journey now meet, now merge with the One All to quench Hadin and birth Asper's dream!

Leave mem'ry of past, and future esteem Soul forfeit if need, the champions deem To leap to battle, by honor full-armed, By courage and love, the world to redeem.

And now, tent brightens, the spells lightly fall; The next act awaits the ringmaster's call.

Biner steps forth, gleaming eye and sly grin: "d.a.m.n everything else, the circus is all!"

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

TRUMPET OF DOOM.

Jooli paused at the end of the song, weary from reliving the memories of her youth.

Safar and the others applauded her, which did much to lessen her weariness.

"If you let Biner hear your voice," Safar said, making Jooli blush, "he'll recruit you for the circus and make you a star performer."

When they were settled again, Jooli said, "As I mentioned, the time I spent in that magical kingdom was the happiest year of my life."

She took a long drink of wine to restore her energies. "Actually," she said, correcting herself, "it was only a few minutes in real time. If anything in this world can be called real, that is. But in the spirit world of themural it was a year. And in that year I was not only healed, but armored against my grandmother's designs."

She shook her head. "I wouldn't have survived if the Spirit Rider hadn't rescued me."

Safar stared at the mural, his mind a meteor shower of thoughts, ideas, questions. Although the mural was only a thin wash of paint on stone, the people portrayed seemed full-bodied and alive. Especially the Spirit Rider, with her haunting beauty and beckoning hand. Posed on the fabulous black mare as if she were about to fly away.

He forced calm on his spirit and turned to Jooli. She was staring at him with an odd look of expectation in her eyes.

"Tell me her name, please," he said.

Jooli nodded, as if she knew he'd ask this. "Princess Alsahna," she said. "And her father's name was King Zaman. The last king to rule all Syrapis. And the grandson of the great Alisarrian."

Safar felt like he'd been hit by a chariot-wheel spanner. "By the G.o.ds," he said, "can this be true?"

Jooli started to protest, but he stopped her with a raised hand. "I don't doubt your word, Jooli. Of course it's true. It's only that this revelation makes things so clear, so simple that it..."

He let the rest trail off. Excitement building. Then: "Alisarrian was Asper's student, correct?"

"Correct," Jooli said, surprised at Safar's intuition. "His teachings were the foundation of Alisarrian's greatness. Not only as a general--a conqueror--but as a sorcerer.

"But later, Alisarrian spurned Asper's ideas. King Zaman said this was the reason for the break-up of Alisarrian's kingdom after his death."

Safar boiled with excitement. He'd learned as a schoolboy that Alisarrian's death had led to the b.l.o.o.d.y human-versus-demon wars in Esmir. And that Lord Asper, the old demon master wizard, had been part of the committee of wizards who ended those wars by creating the Forbidden Desert that divided the two species for centuries. Ended only in Safar's time when the demon king, Manacia, broke the spell and invaded the human lands. Which led, in turn, to the rise and fall of Iraj Protarus. Who wors.h.i.+pped and emulated Alisarrian as if he were a G.o.d.

But then Safar came full circle and his excitement ended with a great emotional crash, plunging him into depression.

What did any of this matter? It only confirmed what the histories already hinted at. Of interest to scholars, to be sure. Except in a short time there would be no scholars, much less history for them to ponder.

Jooli said, "It was while I was with Princess Alsahna that I learned about Hadin. About the end of the world. And about you, Safar Timura."

"I noticed she used my name--and many other names familiar to us all in the song she taught you," Safar said.

Jooli nodded. "But it was you she mainly spoke of. The princess said you were the only one who could change the course of history. That someday you would come to Syrapis to learn Lord Asper's secret.

And that I was to help you find it."Palimak snorted. "Which secret?" he said sarcastically. "My father's had me studying Asper's secrets since I was a toddler. Why, the first words I learned to read were from the Book of Asper. He might have been a mighty wizard and all. But he makes everything so mysterious that there's literally thousands of secrets. And it's not even that big a book!"

Safar smiled, remembering Palimak's long-ago complaint that the world of magic was unnecessarily vague and complicated.

"If I ever write a Book of Palimak," the young man said, echoing Safar's thoughts, "every word will be as plain as the nose on your face. And it won't be written in poetry, that's for certain. Why, I'll bet Asper spent more time and energy looking for a rhyme than he did putting down his thoughts."

"You could very well be right, son," Safar said fondly. "I've often thought the same thing, especially when studying Asper. Whose words are murky, to say the least. The only thing is, poetry does reduce a complicated thought into something more manageable. And as for magic, verse helps focus your mind on the spell."

"If you two don't stop it, I'm going to scream!" Leiria broke in, disgusted. "Debating the merits of verse in magic isn't going to get us anywhere. Except dead from boredom!"

She pointed at Jooli. "The woman just told you something that to my poor, dull, soldierly mind is pretty d.a.m.ned important. So ask her, please! What secret was she supposed to help you find?"

Jooli rose. "It's easier to show you than tell you," she said.

She went to the huge coffin of Asper, beckoning the others to join her. She positioned them around the coffin: Safar at the carved head, Palimak at the feet, herself and Leiria on either side.

Jooli grinned at Palimak. "I'm afraid you're going to have to put up with a little more murky poetry," she teased.

Palimak only nodded. He could feel the magic radiating from the coffin. But it was a very strange sort of magic--whether for good or ill, he couldn't say.

Safar had a different reaction to the magic. To him it seemed amazingly familiar--as if he'd come upon his own footprints in the snow.

He studied the carved features of Asper. They seemed almost lifelike--the long demon fangs, pointed ears, heavy horn over a much-wrinkled brow. Deep-set eyes made of rare red gems that glittered in the torchlight. He seemed so incredibly wise and sad--contemplating a grim future.

Then Jooli raised her hands to cast the spell and Safar bent closer, eager to see what happened next.

Jooli chanted: "The G.o.ds dream awhile of me and thee: Demon and Man alike in our Hate.

Come sound the trumpet for all to see: Darkness and Light, twin rulers of Fate!"

Safar heard a long, deep sigh, like that of an old ghost set free of his bonds. The torchlight dimmed, then flared anew--much brighter than before. Asper's gemstone eyes became two ruby-red spears of light.

Jooli leaned forward, pa.s.sing her hand through the beams, chanting: "Yes, come sound the trumpet Before the Castle of Fate.

And there you'll find Asper At Hadin's last gate!"

Safar heard a sound like the tumblers of a enormous lock turning over. Then a click! And the red beams vanished and the carved jaws gaped wide. For a brief moment Safar thought the demon had come alive and was about to speak. Then he saw that the open mouth offered a pa.s.sageway.

He started to reach, then hesitated--looking up at Jooli.

She nodded, encouraging him. "Go ahead. Reach inside."

Safar slipped his hand into the opening, felt something there, and drew it out. Puzzled, he held the object up for all to see.

It was some sort of seash.e.l.l. About eighteen inches long, spiraling from its finger-wide tip to its bell-shaped opening. Its colors were various shades of orange and white, all very glossy as if the sh.e.l.l had been fired in a pottery kiln. He thumped it experimentally and found that it was hollow.

Then he realized the sh.e.l.l was very much like the conch sh.e.l.l horns the musicians played in Hadin. Except long and narrow like a...

"A kind of trumpet?" he asked Jooli. "Like the one in the spell verse?"

"The very same," Jooli replied.

Safar started to raise it to his lips, then hesitated. "Shall I try it?" he asked.

"I don't see why not," Jooli said. Then she laughed. "I've been waiting for this moment since I was a girl at Princess Alsahna's knee!"