Safar started to speak. But Iraj raised a hand to stop him.

"I know you're stubborn, Safar, he said, so don't answer just now. Think on it a day or two and we'll talk again.

"I'm asking you to do this for me as a friend."

Safar bit off automatic refusal. Very well, Iraj, he said. I'll do as you ask."

He wouldn't change his mind, but agreement gave him time to figure out what was wrong and how to get around it.

Safar tried make a joke of the situation. If Auntie Iraj wants a two-day cooling off period, she'll get it."

Protarus didn't respond. His eyes seemed glazed, as if he were elsewhere.

They snapped back to alertness. Well, that's one problem dealt with easily enough, he said, forcing a light manner. On to the next."

"Which is?"

"I'm afraid it's another delicate matter, my friend, he said. So try to keep an open mind, as you did before."

"I will."

"It's this business about the casting, Iraj said. Asking the gods what the future holds."

Inwardly, Safar groaned. Outwardly, he let a wry smile play across his face.

"So that's what my colleagues were doing here, he said. Why, I'd thought they'd all gathered to sing my praises to their king."

Iraj frowned. No one said anything against you, he said, curt. I wouldn't allow such a thing."

Safar recognized the lie for what it was. Of course, you wouldn't, Iraj, he said. After all, we're blood oath brothers. And no man of honor would let another speak against his blood oath brother."

Iraj gave him the steadiest of gazes. Never, he agreed. His cheek twitched. So he added, firmer still, Never!"

"So what new suggestion did my friends have about the casting? Safar asked.

"Fari proposed a compromise, Iraj said. Make it two years, instead of one. My subjects will take just as much heart at that. Two years in not such a long time to wait for the Age of Great Blessings."

"Oh, so it's got a name now, does it? Safar said. The Age of Great Blessings?"

"Call it anything you like, Iraj said. So long as it sounds positive. The point is, we want to sayquite firmlythat things will get better by and by, if only we make suitable sacrifices to the gods and be patient."

"I'll give you the same answer I gave before, Iraj, Safar said. I won't lie. An extra year won't make it less of one. Or three, or five, even."

Protarus looked alarmed. Five years! he said. You don't think it'll last that long, do you?"

"I have no idea, Safar said. And that's the point. No one does. Not a bone caster, entrails reader or stargazer in your kingdom could say. All the signs are blank. As if there were no gods listening."

"That's ridiculous, Iraj said, features flushing. Of course they're listening. Why else am I on this throne? Who guided me here but the gods? There's the Demon Moon. The comet ascending. Your vision long ago. All those things point to a decree from the Heavens themselves!"

Safar knew better than to argue. Iraj had fixed on this divine destiny idea when they were boys. To dispute it would be pointlessand dangerous.

"Whatever the reason, he said, the gods are silent just now."

"Just say it for them, then, Iraj urged. Say all will be well in two years. It's as good a guess as any."

"I can't, Safar said.

"It would offend your precious honor, Iraj scoffed.

"Something like that, Safar answered.

"Fari doesn't have that problem, Iraj said. He told me he used to do such things for Manacia all the time."

"And look where that got Manacia, Safar said.

Iraj glared at him. That has nothing to do with it, he said. I was talking about honor, not Manacia."

"Well, if it doesn't trouble Fari to lie, Safar said, then let him do it. He can oversee the whole thing. Feasts. Sacrifices. Prayers. Then the big lie. Let me know what date you decide on so I can be sure to be absent."

"That's damned foolishness! Iraj shouted. You're my Grand Wazier! Everyone will think you're opposed and are making yourself absent to show disfavor."

"That does pose a problem, doesn't it? Safar said.

"Well, let's not have one, then, Iraj said. He'd calmed himself. He flashed his most winning smile. Just do as I ask, Safar. A favor for a friend."

"Don't stake our friendship on this, Safar warned. It would be a grave error to let it come to that."

Iraj trembled in fury. For a moment Safar thought he would lose his temper.

Suddenly, Protarus relaxed. He sighed deeply, emptied his cup, then sighed again.

"What a difficult man you are, Safar Timura, he said. As immovable as the mountains themselves."

"I take no pride in it, Safar said. It's only how I was raised."

"Then thank the gods, Iraj laughed, that I only made one friend in Kyrania. Otherwise I would have been driven quite mad by now."

"There can only be one explanation for it, Majesty, Lord Fari said. The Grand Wazier has clearly gone mad."

Protarus looked surprised. Safar mad? he said. Why, he's always been the most stable of individuals. Oh, he has some silly flaws, of course, like that Hadin obsession of his. But madness?"

The king, led by Fari, Luka and Kalasariz, was moving along a narrow corridor toward the chambers containing what had once been King Manacia's Necromancium. The atmosphere was dank, the air smelled of embalming fluids and their bootsteps sounded unnaturally loud as they approached, making all seem very surreal.

"If I may say so, Majesty, Fari said, madness is an affliction all wizards should guard against constantly. I am very old and know of what I speak. I've seen many a young mage overcome by the powerful forces he must reckon with. He forgets all true power resides with the king and he merely manipulates the spirit world for his monarch's benefit. After all, the king rules by Divine Decree. That is the nature of things, as the gods revealed to us long ago."

Luka snorted. What else could you call it but madness? he said. Only a madman would play such a dangerous game. This is no ordinary monarch he's dealing with. But the King of Kings. Absolute monarch of all Esmir."

"What really troubles me, Iraj said, is his attitude that somehow I want to harm my subjects. My whole purposemy whole lifehas been dedicated to the exact opposite. I want nothing but good for everyone. I truly do seek an Age of Great Blessings. Peace and plenty for humans and demons alike.

"Why, I remember telling him something almost exactly like that years ago when we were boys. And I've certainly done nothing but become stronger in that resolve.

"I consider it my holy duty."

"The root of the problem, Your Majesty, Kalasariz said, is that Lord Timura has become not just mad, but power mad. This is not speculation, Majesty, but fact supported by your very best spies.

"Lord Timura has said time and again that he is more popular than Your Majesty. He believes he is revered by all your subjects. And that he should be king, instead of you.

"This is why he refuses you, Majesty. He holds his own reputation as more important than your own."

Iraj was seething when they entered the Necromancium. Rather than needling that anger further, the three conspirators changed their manner, pointing out different objects of interest.

Fari, the old demon wizard, took the lead.

"You see this, Majesty? he said, showing him a flask covered with magical symbols. It contains a potion that would enhance even your mighty abilities with women. One drop in a glass of wine and you could pleasure a hundred maids."

Next, he displayed a small purse. He upended it and a handful of rare gems poured out. With the proper spell, Majesty, he said, these gems can become many. I mentioned their existence to Lord Timura, saying they would help solve your financial difficulties, but he declared them black magic, evil magic, and commanded me to say nothing."