CHAPTER SIXTEEN

For a long time Safar floated on a balmy sea. Below were mysterious depths where nightmares were sea dragons pursuing his dreams.

He dreamed of Kyrania and its fruited fields. He dreamed of clouds melting in the Sun God's forge, dripping colors on the land. He dreamed of clay that leaped into fantastic shapes the moment he touched it. He dreamed of maids bathing in the lake and they were blessed with figures as beguiling as Astarias and faces with winsome smiles and starry eyes like Nerisa.

But each time a dream popped into being it was devoured by the swift-moving nightmares. He saw the volcano overwhelm the people of Hadin. He saw the demon cavalry charging the caravan. He saw Tulaz lift his sword, saw Kalasariz peeping through a dungeon grate, saw Katal die at Zeman's handsand Didima's soldiers slay Nerisa.

He dreamed of Alisarrian's cave where he crouched beside Iraj, watching smoke form into a woman's seductive lips and he saw them move and he heard the Omen speak:

"Two will take the road that two traveled before. Brothers of the spirit, but not the womb. Separate in body and mind, but twins in destiny. But beware what you seek, O brothers. Beware the path you choose. For this tale cannot end until you reach the Land of Fires."

Eventually the intensity of this sleeplife lessened and Safar became aware of the world around him. It seemed as mysterious as the ocean of dreams.

He still felt buoyant as if he were floating on that sea, except now he seemed to be lying on a cushioned raft. Instead of hissing surf he heard the flutter-drum of the winds and the whistle and ping of it singing through taut lines. He heard the rhythmic pumping of bellows and the low roar of a furnace.

Strong, gentle hands lifted his head. A spoon touched his lips, which parted and he lapped up a meaty broth. The spoon dipped up more and he ate until he heard the hollow scrape of wood, signaling the bowl was empty and he drifted away again.

The next time he became aware he heard odd voices saying even odder things, like, Tighten that carabiner. Or, Work the mouth, dammit! Work the mouth! And, Who's minding the burner? It's almost out!"

Once he heard the woman whom he'd thought was Death cast an incomprehensible spell.

"Come to us Mother Wind. Lift us in hands blessed By the warm sun. We have flown high. We have flown well. Take us in your arms, Mother Wind. And when you are done, Set us gently on the ground."

Safar wondered at the purpose of the spell. While he was puzzling he fell asleep.

Time passed. A time of dreamless drifting. Then a current of cold air washed over him and he opened his eyes.

There was the shock of sudden sunlight and then vision cleared.

He seemed to be lying on a firm surface at the bottom of a fantastic canyon with dazzling walls of many colors. The walls curved inward until they seemed only a few feet apart. Through that hollow he could see skies as blue as the high vaults above the Bride and Six Maids.

Then hazy reason formed and he thoughtThat's no cliff. It's too smooth. AlsoI've never seen slate with all those colors. And so bright! Like they were painted. Then he realized the canyon walls were moving as if they were made of living skin.

Maybe a giant swallowed me, Safar thought, and I'm looking up into his guts. But that conclusion made little senseit didn't allow for the sky.

I must still be dreaming, he thought. Then a leg muscle threatened to cramp and he stretched the limb until the pain eased.

And he thoughtThere is pain, which proves I'm awake. But exactly where am I awake? He considered. Then it came to him that he was flyingor, lying upon something that was flying, at any rate. Perhaps he was awake, but in the middle of a vision and in that vision he was perched on a mighty eagle flying to wherever the vision commanded.

No good. Where were the wings? If he were riding an eagle, there'd be wings.

He tried to sit up and reconnoiter his surroundings.

Someone shouted. Weakness overcame him and he fell back. Dizzy, he closed his eyes.

Slippered feet approached.

A whiff of perfume as someone knelt beside him.

He opened his eyes and found a beautiful woman bending over him. She had almond eyes and long silvery hair streaked with black. It was the face of the woman he'd seen floating across the desert; the woman he'd believed was Death herself come to take him away. But this face was of normal size and it wasn't painted with all sorts of savage colors. Her skin was white and smooth as the most expensive parchment, with a fine, barely visible net of age etched on the surface.

"I did this once before, Safar told her. Awaken from the dead, I mean. With a beautiful woman hovering over me. He was thinking of Astarias.

The woman laughed. It was a rich, earthy laugh. A laugh with appetite.

Instead of answering she turned her head and called to someone, The lad wakes up pretty as he sleeps, Biner. He has the loveliest blue eyes. And you should hear the compliments. First time I've blushed in thirty years."

"That's enough hot air to lift us another thousand feet, Methydia, Biner replied. His voice was a familiar baritone.

Heavy feet thudded forward. Last time you blushed, Biner said, the Goddess Felakia was a virgin."

Safar craned to look. From the deepness of the voice and the obvious weight the feet were carrying, Safar expected to see a huge fellow come into view.

Biner was immense all right. He had the girth of a giant, the mighty arms and hams of a giant, but all that size had been squashed by an enemy giant's hand into a body that stood less than four feet high. He had a huge bearded face with an overly wide mouth filled with broad teeth.

Biner saw Safar staring at him. He displayed his teeth in what was meant to be a comforting smile. Bet you're glad I wasn't the one to wake you up, lad, he said. I got a face that'll peel the reflection right off a mirror."

Safar struggled to answer. He didn't want to be rude by appearing to agree with an all-too-obvious truth.

Methydia patted him. Don't worry about Biner's feelings, she said, guessing what was on his mind. Ugly as it is, he's proud of that face. People pay good money to see it. Almost as much as they pay to see him lift a wagon of pig iron. Or smash a pile of bricks with his fist."

Biner toed the floor, embarrassed. Aw, that stuff isn't much, he said. Just tricks to wow the fair crowds. Besides, Methydia does some of her witchy business first to soften them up."

Methydia gave Safar a look of immense sincerity. Biner is a fine actor, she said, a dramatic hand going to her flowing bosom. The best male lead in all Esmir, in my judgment."

Safar's head was swimming. He was very confused. Excuse me, dear lady, he said. But would I be wrong in guessing that I've been rescued by, uh… entertainers?"

Biner and Methydia laughed. Biner stood as tall as he could, shouting: Come one, come all! Lads and maids of Alllll ag-es! I now to present to youMethydia's Flying Circus of Miracles!

"The Greatest Show In Esmir!"

Methydia applauded, crying Bravo! Bravo!"

Safar became alarmed. He propped himself up on an elbow. Excuse me again, he said. I know it isn't polite to question one's rescuers too closely, but… What was that thing you said about flying?"

Biner seemed surprised. Of course we're flying, lad, he said. We're about two miles up, is my estimate."

Safar coughed. Two miles up? In what?"

"Why, a Cloudship, boy. A Cloudship!"

Fear overcame weakness and Safar stumbled to his feet.

He went to a rail and looked down. Far beneath him was the floor of a wide, fertile valley. He could see a great double-humped shadow moving swiftly across the fields. His veins turned to ice as it came to him that he was probably part of that fast-moving shadow.