Alutar: The Great Demon (62 page)

“The healing we did in the cities already served that purpose,” Zynor pointed out. “It forced us to work as one. Plus, it had the added benefit of actually doing some good in this world. I do not think the game would be made to serve the same purpose.”

“It is no coincidence that we are in the desert,” stated Dorforun. “I believe that the desert is our destination. If that is so, the game was meant to prepare us for something that must be done here.”

Atule looked at the dwarven mage and nodded. “But sinking a ship?” he frowned. “If he had said that we were going to rearrange the sands of the desert to build something, I could understand the game as preparation for that, but a ship makes absolutely no sense at all.”

“Maybe it was a play on words,” suggested Valera. “The ship could be symbolic.”

“Symbolic of what?” mused Kalmar. “I can see the Sands of Eternity being compared to an endless sea, but what kind of vessel could traverse a sea of sand?”

“None that I can think of,” frowned Atule. “If there were such a vessel, the horse countries would not be isolated as they are.”

“The horse countries are no longer isolated,” replied Eulena. “Tedi mentioned to me that twenty thousand Occans warriors were descending on Giza. I assumed that was why we were leaving the city so soon after getting there.”

The mages all turned and stared at the female elf.

“Korocca is going to war?” Kalmar asked with concern. “Are you sure?”

“That is not a matter of our concern,” Fakir Aziz stated as he walked back into the campsite, “nor is it the reason we left Giza. I have already given you the reason for our presence here in the Sands of Eternity. Now, let’s get this camp set up and eat. The game tonight will be different, and I do not want your thoughts distracted by the affairs of the Federation.”

Zynor immediately turned and started unloading the unicorns. Kalmar quickly grabbed some of the wood that they carried and began to build a fire. Crystil looked at the Mage with a question on her lips. Fakir Aziz turned to her and spoke.

“I do not expect company during the night,” said the Mage, “but it would not hurt to build your pillars. Have Valera help you.”

Crystil nodded and waved for Valera to join her. The two women moved away from the fire that Kalmar was starting. Eulena began pulling food out of the packs to prepare the meal. The dwarven mage, Dorforun, joined her, but Atule stood still, staring at the Mage.

“Can you think of no way to aid in setting up the camp?” Fakir Aziz said to the mage from the jungle.

“I know nothing of pillars,” Atule said, “and no one would care for my cooking. Zynor would rather tend to the unicorns by himself. What would you have me do?”

Fakir Aziz turned and pointed to the sand dune he had walked to previously. “Remove that sand dune,” ordered the Mage. “It will be in the way of tonight’s game.”

Atule raised an eyebrow as he looked at the distant sand dune. Moving it would be no great challenge for a mage of his caliber, but the game was normally played around the campfire. The sand dune would not be in the way. With a shrug at being given a useless chore to keep him busy, Atule moved off to flatten the sand dune. Fakir Aziz walked to his unicorn and retrieved the black staff he had been working on. He sat down in the sand near the fire and began rubbing the staff with the fine sand of the desert.

An hour later, the meal had been devoured, and the mages gathered for the nightly game. Fakir Aziz left the circle of mages around the campfire. He poured water from his waterskin over the staff and then he rolled the staff in the sand until it was evenly coated. Levitating the staff so it rose vertically above him, he reached up and supported it with one finger placed in the center of one of the ends. The game immediately halted and everyone turned to watch Fakir Aziz.

“What is he doing?” scowled Atule. “I thought he was anxious to begin the game, but he just ups and leaves when it is time to start.”

Suddenly, lightning streaked down out of the clear blue sky. The lightning struck the staff. Fakir Aziz was instantly obscured by a brilliant light that caused all of the watchers to turn away and shield their eyes. The brilliance lasted for several moments, and when the mages turned to look for Fakir Aziz, the Mage was walking towards them holding the staff. He walked back to the campfire and held out the staff towards the mages. The staff was now a shiny black with a finish as smooth as glass.

“Touch it,” ordered the Mage. “Learn to know it.”

The mages were puzzled by Fakir’s actions and words, but they dutifully reached out and touched the staff.

“It is alive,” Zynor said in awe. “How can that be?”

Fakir Aziz did not answer. The other mages all looked at one another as if expecting one of the group to come up with a plausible explanation. No one did. Fakir Aziz pulled back the staff and shoved one end of it into the sand so it stood vertically.

“The game changes tonight,” the Mage announced. “As you pass the sand around in a circle, walk backwards at a normal walking pace. Concentrate on your rate of movement. If one of you moves too fast or too slow, the circle will break.”

“How far away from the camp should we walk?” asked Atule as he remembered the Mage asking him to move the sand dune.

“You will know when to stop,” the Mage replied with a smile. “Let the game begin.”

The mages moved to form a circle around the staff and then started issuing the spell that would circulate the sand. Almost immediately, a small wall of sand grew before their feet, and each of them propelled it onward in a clockwise rotation. As soon as the wall of sand was spinning properly, Eulena called for them to start moving backwards.

Zynor smiled as soon as he started moving. Previously they had sat in a circle and moved the sand, but walking backwards added another dimension to the game, and the old mage from Zarocca found it challenging at first. After a while, the challenge evaporated, and Zynor no longer felt the need to concentrate on the sand at his feet. He looked up and then looked around for the other mages, but no one was visible. In fact, nothing was visible except the wall of sand. Zynor glanced upward and gasped. The wall of sand had grown in height until it towered over him. He almost lost his rhythm, but he recovered quickly enough not to cause the wall to break. For another hour, he continued walking backwards. The wall of sand grew higher and higher until he estimated that it was as tall as a mature mahogany tree. He suddenly smiled as he wondered how high they could make it. Before he had time to dwell upon the question, he heard Fakir’s voice in his mind telling him to stop. A moment later, the voice told him to start walking forward towards the staff. Zynor complied. He felt a rippling of the wall of sand as he began forward, but it soon stabilized again. He wondered what had happened when he heard another voice in his head. The voice let out a muffled curse, but Zynor recognized the voice. It was Kalmar’s voice.”

“Kalmar?” Zynor asked out loud. “Are you near me?”

There was a moment of silence then Zynor heard Kalmar’s voice in his head.

“I don’t think so,” replied Kalmar. “I stepped into a depression of some kind and almost lost my hold on the wall. How are you talking to me?”

“I can hear you in my mind,” answered Zynor. “I am just talking out loud. Are you sure that you are not near me?”

“I can hear both of you,” announced Eulena, “and I am on the opposite side of the circle.”

“Can we stop the chatter?” scowled Atule. “It is obvious that the staff has some ability to aid communications, but we don’t know who else can hear us until we understand it better. Be quiet.”

The mages fell silent and continued walking towards the staff. Zynor, having grown quite accustomed to walking and casting the spell at the same time, began to let his mind ponder the situation. He began by estimating the distance he had traveled. He raised an eyebrow as his calculations showed that he had been over a league away from the staff when he heard Kalmar’s voice. That made him wonder about holding the circle spell while walking. Man seldom walked in a straight line, so what made anyone think that they would all end up back at the staff again? They certainly would not be able to see the staff with the huge wall of sand before them, and the wall itself obliterated any tracks that might have been left while walking backwards. Yet Zynor felt confident that the staff was directly in front of him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the staff. After a few moments, he smiled broadly. Although he could not see the staff, he could feel it. There was no doubt in his mind now. The staff was directly in front of him. Just as he was opening his eyes, Zynor’s foot dropped into a depression in the sand. He tried to recover his footing, but he was too far off balance. He sighed heavily as he felt his body pitching forward.

“I lost the wall,” he shouted as he fell.

All of a sudden, the sand wall tore apart, the swiftly moving sand tearing across the desert like a storm. In the blink of an eye, Zynor was flat on his face, and the sandstorm was tearing at his exposed back. Before he could issue a call for help, he was completely buried in the sand. Unable to move, Zynor held his breath as he tried to figure out a way to get unburied. Before he could think of a method of moving the sand atop him, a whirlwind accomplished the feat without his effort. Zynor rolled over and looked up into the face of the Mage.

“You should concentrate on one mystery at a time,” the Mage said with a hint of a smile on his lips. “The breaking of the wall can be dangerous for all, not just you. Come. We have to check on the others.”

Zynor rose from the depression and saw his unicorn nearby. Fakir Aziz was already mounted on his unicorn.

“I will go clockwise,” stated the Mage. “You go the other way.”

Fakir’s unicorn leaped into the sky, and Zynor ran to his unicorn and mounted. An hour later, everyone was reunited at the campfire.

“Your game has become quite dangerous,” Atule scowled at the Mage. “It became a ferocious storm when Zynor bungled it.”

“There is truth to that,” Kalmar nodded. “I was not prepared for what happened.”

“Then it is good that it happened tonight,” declared Fakir Aziz. “The next time you will be better prepared.”

“You mean to have us play this game again?” groused Atule. “Why endanger our lives over a game?”

“Perhaps game is not an appropriate term,” shrugged Fakir Aziz. “What you experienced tonight is just a small step towards what is required of you. Tonight you created a circle with a diameter of two leagues. What will be required of you is a circle with a diameter of one hundred leagues.”

“One hundred leagues?” echoed Kalmar. “You can’t be serious. If we were to try such a circle at a walking pace, it would take us days to reach the staff. We would need to eat and sleep. It is not possible.”

“Which is why you will practice the game from the backs of your unicorns,” retorted Fakir Aziz. “In time you will learn to maintain the spell even during sleep. The unicorns will maintain the pace while you nap.” The Mage saw several of the mages shaking their heads in disbelief. He held up his hand to halt any objections. “This truly is not a game,” he said seriously. “I have chosen the most skilled for this journey because it requires great ability and great dedication. I know that each of you can perform this task as required. Your only path to failure lies in your lack of belief.”

“I will accept your challenge, Fakir Aziz,” stated Dorforun, “but I think it is time for you to warn us of what we face. Had Zynor not called out to us the moment he lost control of the wall, I have no doubt that some of us would not be standing here now. The force of the resulting sandstorm was unlike anything recorded in any archives. Tell us what we will face so that we may be better prepared.”

The Mage glanced around at the faces before him. He sighed heavily and nodded.

“There are two major tasks that require your assistance,” he began. “The wall of sand is only the first, and it is the only one that I will discuss at this time. Gather around, and I will explain the purpose of the game.”

“And the nature of the staff?” asked Zynor.

“And the nature of the staff,” smiled the Mage.

Colonel Taerin was in the emperor’s office retrieving proclamations and notes that had to be taken to the archives. He was just about to leave when the door opened and Grand General Kyrga barged in.

“We have problems,” the Grand General declared. “Giza is about to be attacked.”

“Attacked?” frowned the emperor. “Explain.”

Colonel Taerin froze. Normally he would be immediately told to leave, but neither the emperor nor the Grand General seemed to notice him. He stood still, his back to the other men as he held several pieces of paper in his hands.

“I sent out black-cloaks to discover what is going on west of the Barrier,” explained Grand General Kyrga. “What they discovered in Karamin and Vinafor agrees with the messages sent out by the rebels. The rebels now rule Tyronia as well, but the return flights of the black-cloaks brought the most distressing news. Camp Destiny is empty, and the 1st Corps no longer exists.”

“No longer exists?” scoffed Emperor Jaar. “What do you mean?”

“The valley shows signs of having been flooded,” answered Kyrga. “Thousands of weapons litter the floor of the valley, and bloated bodies adorn the ground. The Blood River shows signs of having overflowed its banks and a trail of Federation bodies line its banks. The Alceans must have flooded them.”

“Or the fools opened those portals to Alcea and couldn’t close them again,” offered the emperor.

“No,” retorted Kyrga. “Most of the black-cloak bodies had arrows in them, as if they had been killed in bird form while trying to escape over the peaks. This was no accident, Emperor. This attack was specifically meant to stop the 1
^st
Corps from moving into Vinafor to put down the rebellion.”

The emperor grew irritated and snapped, “What does this have to do with Giza?”

“Another black-cloak found that Occan army with the Red Swords,” Kyrga explained. “It is a couple of days away from Giza. They found a way through the Forest of Death.”