joke perpetuated far too long.’
“It’s an abomination!’ SePhrenia declared with uncharacteristic
heat.
‘Your critical perception does you credit, dear lady,’ Itagne
smiled, ‘but I think your choice of terms over-dignifies the genre.
I’d characterize Delphaeic literature as adolescent sentimentality
perhaps, but I don’t really take it seriously enough to grow
indignant about it.’
‘Delphaeic literature is a mask for the most pernicious kind of
anti-Styric bigotry!’ she said in tones she usually reserved for
ultimatums.
Vanion appeared to be as baffled by her sudden outburst as
Sparhawk and the rest. He looked around, obviously seeking
some way to change the subject.
“It’s moving on toward sunset,’ Kalten noted, stepping in to
lend a hand. Kalten’s perceptiveness sometimes surprised Sparhawk.
‘Flute,’ he said, ‘did you plan to put us down beside
another one of those water-holes for the night?’
‘Oasis, Kalten,’ Vanion corrected him. ‘They call it an oasis,
not a water-hole.’
‘That’s up to them. They can call it whatever they want, but
I know a water-hole when I see one. If we’re going to do this
the old-fashioned way, we’re going to have to start looking for
a place to camp, and there’s a ruin of some kind on that hilltop
over there to the north. Sephrenia can squeeze water out of the
air for us, and if we stay in those ruins we won’t have to put
up with the smell of boiling dog all night the way we usually
do when we camp near one of their villages.’
‘The Cynesgans don’t eat dogs, Sir Kalten,’ Itagne laughed.
“I wouldn’t swear to that without an honest count of all the
dogs in one of their villages – both before and after supper.’
‘Sparhawk!’ It was Khalad, and he was roughly shaking his lord
into wakefulness. ‘There are people out there!’
Sparhawk threw his blankets to one side and rolled to his feet,
reaching for his sword. ‘How many?’ he asked quietly.
“i’ve seen a dozen or so. They’re creeping around among those
boulders down by the road.’
‘Wake the others.’
‘Yes, my Lord.’
“Quietly, Khalad.’
Khalad gave him a flat, unfriendly stare.
‘Sorry.’
The ruin in which they had set up their camp had been a
fortress at one time. The stones were roughly squared off, and
they had been set without mortar. Uncounted centuries of blowing
dust and sand had worn the massive blocks smooth and had
rounded the edges. Sparhawk crossed what appeared to have
been a court to the tumbled wall on the south side of the fortress
and looked down toward the road.
A thick cloud-bank had crept in during the night to obscure
the sky. Sparhawk peered toward the road, silently cursing the
darkness. Then he heard a faint rustling sound just on the other
side of the broken wall.
‘Don’t get excited,’ Talen whispered.
‘Where have you been?’
‘Where else?’ The boy climbed over the rubble to join the big
Pandion.
‘Did you take Berit with you again?’ Sparhawk asked acidly.
‘No. Berit’s a little too noisy now that he’s taken to wearing
chain-mail, and his integrity always seems to get in the way.’
Sparhawk grunted. ‘Well?’ he asked.
‘You’re not going to believe this, Sparhawk.
“I might surprise you.’
‘There are more of those Cyrgai out there.’
‘Are you sure?’
“I didn’t stop one to ask him, but they look exactly the same
as those ones we ran across west of Sarsos did. They’ve got on
those funny-looking helmets, the old-fashioned armor, and
those silly short dresses they wear.’
“I think they’re called kilts.’
‘A dress is a dress, Sparhawk.’
‘Are they doing anything tactically significant?’
‘You mean forming up for an attack? No. I think these are
just scouts. They don’t have their spears or shields with them,
and they’re doing a lot of crawling around on their bellies.’
Let’s go talk with Vanion and Sephrenia.’
They crossed the rubble-littered courtyard of the ancient
fortress. ‘Our young thief’s been disobeying orders again,’
Sparhawk told the others.
‘No, I haven’t,’ Talen disagreed. ‘You didn’t order me not to
go look at those people, so how can you accuse me of disobeying
you?’
“I didn’t order you not to because I didn’t know they were
out there.’
‘That did sort of make things easier. I’ll admit that.’
‘Our wandering boy here reports that the people creeping
around down by the road are Cyrgai.’
“Someone on the other side’s been winnowing through the
past again?’ Kalten suggested.
‘No,’ Flute said, raising her head slightly. The little girl
appeared to have been sleeping soundly in her sister’s arms.
‘The Cyrgai out there are as alive as you are. They aren’t from
the past.’
‘That’s impossible,’ Bevier objected. ‘The Cyrgai are extinct.’
‘Really?’ the Child Goddess said. ‘How astonishing that they
didn’t notice that. Trust me, gentlemen. I’m in a position to
know. The Cyrgai who are creeping up on you are contemporary.’
‘T
he Cyrgai died out ten thousand years ago, Divine One,’
Itagne said firmly.
‘Maybe you should run down the hill and let them know about
it, Itagne,’ she told him. ‘Let me go, Sephrenia.’
Sephrenia looked a little startled.
Aphrael kissed her sister tenderly, and then stepped a little
way away. “I have to leave you now. The reasons are very complex,
so you’ll just have to trust me.’
‘What about those Cyrgai?’ Kalten demanded. ‘We’re not
going to let you wander off in the dark while they’re out there.’
She smiled. ‘Would someone please explain this to him?’ she
asked them.
‘Are you going to leave us in danger like this?’ Ulath
demanded.
‘Are you worried about your own safety, Ulath?’
‘Of course not, but I thought I could shame you into staying
until we’d dealt with them.’
‘The Cyrgai aren’t going to bother you, Ulath,’ she said
patiently. ‘They’ll be going away almost immediately.’ She
looked around at them. Then she sighed. “I really have to leave
now,’ she said regretfully. I’ll rejoin you later.’
Then she wavered like a reflection in a pool and vanished.
‘Aphrael!’ Sephrenia cried, half reaching out.
‘That is truly uncanny,’ Itagne muttered. ‘Was she serious
about the Cyrgai?’ he asked them. ‘is it at all possible that some
of them actually survived their war with the Styrics?’
“I wouldn’t care to call her a liar,’ Ulath said. ‘Particularly
not around Sephrenia. Our little mother here is very protective. ‘
‘i
‘ve noticed that,’ Itagne said. “I wouldn’t offend you or your
Goddess for the world, dear lady, but would you be at all upset
if we made a few preparations? History is one of my specialties
at the university, and the Cyrgai had – have, I suppose – a
fearsome reputation. I trust your little Goddess implicitly, of
course, but…’ He looked apprehensive.
‘Sephrenia?’ Sparhawk said.
‘Don’t bother me.’ She seemed terribly shocked by Aphrael’s
sudden departure.
‘Snap out of it, Sephrenia. Aphrael had to leave, but she’ll be
back later. I need an answer right now. Can I use Bhelliom to
set up some kind of barrier that will hold the Cyrgai off until
whatever it was that Aphrael was talking about chases them
away?’
‘Yes, but you’d let our enemy know exactly where you are if
you did that.’
‘He already knows,’ Vanion pointed out. “I doubt that those
Cyrgai stumbled across us by accident.’
‘He has a point there,’ Bevier agreed.
‘Why bother with holding them off?’ Kalten asked. ‘Sparhawk
can move us ten leagues on down the road faster than we can
blink. I’m not so attached to this place that I’ll lose any sleep if
I’m not around to watch the sun come up over it.’
‘i’ve never done it at night,’ Sparhawk said doubtfully. He
looked at Sephrenia. ‘Would the fact that I can’t see where I’m
going have any effect at all?’
‘How would I know?’ She sounded a little cross.
‘Please, Sephrenia,’ he said. ‘i’ve got a problem, and I need
your help.’
‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Berit exclaimed. He pointed
to the north. ‘Look at that.’
They stared at the strange phenomenon moving steadily toward them across
the arid desert.
‘Fog?’ Ulath said incredulously. ‘Fog in the desert?’
‘Lord Vanion,’ Khalad said in a troubled voice, ‘does your
map show any towns or settlements off to the north?’
Vanion shook his head. ‘Nothing but open desert.’
‘There are lights out there, though. You can see them
reflecting off the fog. They’re close to the ground, but you can
definitely see them.’
‘i’ve seen lights in the fog before,’ Bevier said, ‘but never quite
like that. That isn’t torchlight.’
‘You’re right there,’ Ulath agreed. ‘i’ve never seen light quite
that color before – and it seems to be just lying on the fog itself,
almost like a blanket.’
“It’s probably just the camp of some desert nomads, Sir Ulath,’
Itagne suggested. ‘Mist and fog do strange things to light sometimes.
In Matherion you’ll see light reflected off the mother-ofpearl
on the buildings. Some nights it’s like walking around