"I don't believe so, Majesty, Fari said. They're too far away from one another. And unless some great wind sweeps one up and delivers him to the feet of the other, we have nothing to fear."

The storm that hastened the Cloudship over the Plains of Jaspar lasted for more than a week. The winds that drove it were as fierce as the love-making in Methydia's cabin.

For Safar it was a wondrous journey to the heart of a woman. In many ways Safar had always preferred the company of women. He'd been raised in a household of generous and intelligent females. As a child he'd sat in their company, so quiet they soon forgot he was about, and he'd listened intently to their troubles and dreams. Safar thought women dreamed better than men. They saw nuances and dimensions where men only saw flat featureless plains. Safar had been unfortunate in his first adult experience with women. Astarias had wounded him. Although he'd been careful not to judge all women by that experience, he couldn't help all the small doubts and fears that remained.

Methydia wiped them away in a stroke.

For Methydia the affair was altogether different. It shook her sensibilities. It rocked her mortality. She'd had many affairs; some for gain, some for lust, perhaps one or two for lovealthough as she grew older she'd started to think all three were the same and equaled love of self. But with Safar there was something extraa tantalizing mystery just beyond her grasp.

What Methydia always liked about young men was that they appreciated you so much. A woman merely had to be a woman and take the upper hand. Young menwell brought up young menwere so accustomed to obeying their mothers they were invariably relieved when responsibility was taken from them. She could beguile them with a look. Arouse them with a touch. Hold them at bay with a frown. Methydia was a consummate actress and could be all things to all men, but with the young it took less effort. There was more time to enjoy. As Biner often said, The boss likes her toys, she does. She likes em young with a key to wind em up."

Safar could have been such a toy, although she'd plucked him from the desert only out of kindness. When he became well and she'd noted his personality was as pleasing as his appearance, she'd considered him for her bed.

But what truly captivated Methydia was Safar's magical self. It was a beautiful essence, powerful and passionate. It was potentnever in her witchy days had she sensed such strengthbut there was good at the heart of it. Safar's spirit self wanted to call you friend before it called you foe. It was young, but graceful rather than clumsy. It had known deathwas miserable for being the cause of itand was reluctant to come out into the light again. For a time Methydia was intimidated by Safar's magical self. She didn't fear it, but she did worry if she wasn't careful she'd injure it so badly all the kindness would vanish. As a villain, a black wizard, a fully mature Safar Timura would be a terrible gift to the world.

Attractive as Safar was, she'd held herself back for a long time. In fact, Methydia had all but decided it'd be best to deny herself an affair.

The incident at Kyshaat had ripped her from that mooring.

In her long life Methydia thought she'd encountered just about everything. She'd visited many realms, entertained many people. She'd dealt with danger and evil aplenty; but in her heart she believed good more than outweighed evil, there were more blessings than ill fortune and she'd made it her life's work to remind people of these qualities.

As a witch she was well aware the sorcerous landscape was riddled with magicians and entities whose sole purpose was to cause harm. She'd always managed to evade such things. To Methydia magic came from the earth itself. She believed she drew her powers directly from nature, which to her was a loving, grandmotherly presence.

The creature she encountered at Kyshaat had badly cracked that image. When it rose out of the ground it was as if the earth itself were attacking her. That nature had suddenly revealed its true self and it had a jackal's face. In that awful moment when the earth beast had towered over her she'd thought she'd lost both her life and her soul.

Safar had saved them both.

She'd fled into his arms for comfort and safety and sheer joy at being alive. For a week she hid there from all the terrors the creature had aroused. Yet they gnawed at the edges. Deep in the night, while the storms howled outside and Safar slept, Methydia let them come out one by one. Examining them in turn. In the end she concluded the beast at Kyshaat was the harbinger of doom. That it was only the first of many evils that lay ahead.

Her instincts told her only Safar could fight the dark tide.

As soon as she thought this she knew she'd lost him. It wasn't possible for Safar to remain with the circus. It would be a much happier life for him, but it was Safar's tragedy that all such happiness would be denied him. And one day it would be Methydia's sad duty to point him down the bleak road of his fate.

She said nothing of this to Safar. When she thought the time was right she gently quizzed him about further details of his past. Everything he said confirmed her view. He told her about the vision of Hadin and its destruction, his fears of future disasters, his search for knowledge in Walaria, his discovery of the demon Asper and how in the end the master wizard's works had been denied him. He showed her the stone turtle Nerisa had given him and she mourned with him the faint pulse of nearly dying life inside.

"I was a fool for even trying to find the answer, Safar said bitterly. What would it matter if I did? There's nothing a potter's boy from Kyrania could do about it."

Then he swore he'd always love her, always stay with her and he'd never return to the dull, heavy existence of earthbound mortals who stared up at the sky in wonder as the Cloudship sailed overhead.

Methydia kept her silence. It would do him no good to tell him what she thought. But she had to be certain Safar was prepared for whatever was in store for him.

She determined that in the time remaining to them she'd teach him everything she knew about magical guile and peoples artifice. She'd give him all the love she had in heremotions she'd kept locked away to better arm herself against the world. She'd bolster his confidence, free him as best she could from his own self-imposed restraints.

And when the time came she'd steel herself and make him confront his destiny.

The storms continued with barely a day between each new blow. The winds drove them onwardacross the plains of Jaspar.

They saw much misery in the land the Cloudship passed over. Ruined villages, stripped fields where great armies had passed. Even in the heaviest rains they saw thousands of refugees slogging along the roads, making their way to the gods knew where. They saw the aftermath of fighting; huge muddy fields littered with corpses of men and animals.

The sight made them all moody. Only the most necessary words were exchanged. Safar was moodiest of all, staring out over the bleak landscape before them. Then one day they crossed a low mountain range. And when they broke through the clouds the skies were sunny, the air brisk.

They were floating over a large, peaceful valley. The valley floor was a patchwork of bright green orchards interspersed with blue creeks, gaily-painted villages, bordered by shaded gardens. All looked healthy and prosperous and there was no sign of the troubles they'd encountered before.

A fresh wind pushed the Cloudship forward. At the far edge of the valley was a small city with pearly walls and graceful buildings rising up from behind them.