Wizard of the winds tott-1

by Allan Cole

  Prince Luka had the great pleasure of seeing the aged demon's shock of disappointment at his poor reception. The journey had taken a heavy toll on Lord Fari.

  Slumped in the saddle, every bone aching, he peered first at Luka and then the lights of the tent city.

  "Where's the king? he asked, voice quavering from age and weariness. He despised himself for letting the weakness show in front of Luka, but he couldn't help it.

  "My father asked me to relay his apologies, the prince answered. He said you'd understand that he couldn't actually be present to congratulate you.

  "He's busy right now, you see, planning the invasion of the humanlands."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE CLOUDSHIP

  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 mi
les 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.

  He called back to his rescuers, How far up did you say we were?"

  Biner replied, Two miles, lad… Give or take a thousand feet."

  First Safar threw up.

  Then he passed out.

  ****

  When he regained awareness a small crowd was gathered around him.

  Methydia was beside him, trying to coax brandy between his lips. One look at the crowd and Safar opened his mouth wide and choked down a flood.

  Biner was in the center. To his left was a tall, skeletal fellow wearing nothing but a breech cloth and a turban. He had a huge snake draped about his necka snake with the face of a man. Just behind him was a stocky man with the hard muscles of an acrobat. He had a too-small head that was detachable, holding it up by the hair to see over the others, a long tube-like neck trailing down to his shoulders. Towering over the group was what had to be a dragon. A white dragon, with a long snout and a spiked tail, which curled up as Safar looked to scratch a place behind its ear. Then someone moved and Safar saw the creature wasn't entirely a dragon. The long torso was that of a well-endowed woman, complete with breast plates and a triangular modesty patch tied about the hips with a thong.

  There was much to goggle at. But the dragon noticed Safar had fixed upon her.

  "I altho juggle, she lisped. Thix globth and theven thwords. We thoak them in oil and I thet'm on fire with my breath."

  She raised a claw to her snout and burped. Smoke and flames shot around her fist.

  "Excuthe me, she said. Mutht have been thomething I ate."

  Safar nodded. What a polite dragon, he thought. Then he passed out again.

  The last thing he heard was:

  "Really, Arlain! Methydia said. Can't you control yourself? You've scared another guest half to death!"

  "I'm thorry, the dragon wailed. Wath'n my fault. The thquath we had for thupper mutht of been thpoiled."

  ****

  Several days of dreamless sleep passed, interspersed with half-conscious feedings. Then the sudden moment came when he awoke and felt very strong and very alert. He smelled perfume and immediately he felt very very…

  He opened his eyes. A dim, flickering light illuminated his surroundings. There was a cabin roof above his head, shadows dancing on the dark ceiling. Safar looked down and saw a certain part had made itself embarrassingly apparent beneath the blankets.

  Safar heard a familiar, throaty laugh. Methydia's face leaned over him, lips parted in a smile, almond eyes dancing with humor. She glanced down, then back at him again.

  "It's good to see you among the living, she said.

  Safar flushed. He started to apologize, but Methydia put a finger to his lips, silencing him.

  "Don't be embarrassed on my account, she said. Consider your little upstart welcome. Any friend of yours, and all that."

  Safar opened his mouth to speak, but once again a long, slender finger touched his lips.

  "You're a young man, Methydia said. Youth has its advantages and its disadvantages. The advantages are apparent. She glanced at the blanket. To Safar's relief his problem had subsided. The disadvantages arewhat to do with your advantages."

  "Oh, was all Safar could say.

  "Now, I suppose you have some questions, Methydia said. Assuming your uninvited guest isn't so consumed with himself that he'll allow you to think."

  "First off, Safar said, I should tell you about myself before I have the right to ask any questions."

  "Go on, Methydia said.

  "My name is Safar Timura, he said in a rush. I've just escaped execution in Walaria. I could swear on my mother's soul I didn't deserve such a fate. That I am no criminal. That I am only a studenta seeker of truth who has never done anyone harm. But none of that should matter to you.

  "What should matter is that I am wanted by very powerful men who would most certainly do you harm if they learned you had aided me."

  Methydia clapped her hands. What a delicious speech, she said. And so well spoken. My compliments to your mother and father for raising such an honest lad."

  Once again Safar felt the discomfort of a blush. I was only trying to warn you about what you might be in for, he said, a bit sullen.

  Methydia kissed him and patted his cheek. Don't mind me, dear, she said. I have an old woman's blathering tongue."

  Safar's eyes strayed to her lush figure, swathed in a many-layered, translucent gown.

  "You're not so old, he mumbledand tore his eyes away.

  "If you keep talking like that, my pretty lad, Methydia said, we're going to get ourselves in trouble.

  "Now. Allow me to compose myself."

  Methydia, ever the actress as Safar eventually learned, fanned her cheek with a delicate hand, saying, You have a way of troubling a woman's concentration, dear."

  Safar had learned better than to automatically blurt an apology. He said, Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

  "Ask away, Methydia replied.

  "First I want to ask about the Cloudship, he said. Then I want to ask about the circus."

  ****

  The answers consumed many days and many miles. In fact, during the months Safar spent with Methydia and her troupe, he never did hear the entire talealthough everyone from Biner, the muscular dwarf, to Arlain, the human dragon who preferred vegetables over meat, was more than willing to enlighten him.

  The Cloudship had no life of its own and although complicated in design, it was an object and therefore easier to explain.

  Essentially, it was a shipa ship with its nose bobbed off and its masts and sails removed. It had a long ship's deck, a high ship's bridge and a ship's galleys and cabins. The timbers it was made of, however, were light as parchment and strong as steel.

  Methydia said the rare planks were the gift of a woodsmana long ago loverwho stole the trees from a sacred grove to prove he'd make a worthy husband. The woodsman's most ardent rivala magical toy maker of great renownturned the planks into a marvelous vessel, hoping to upstage his opponent.

  "I was very young, then, Methydia said. But although I was dumb enough to attract men I didn't want, I was bright enough to not only keep my gifts, but to avoid marrying my lovers without giving insult."

  The body of the Cloudship dangled beneath two balloons, each ninety feet high and made of a strong, light cloth that was not only moisture proof but offered a marvelous surface for all the colorful paints the troupe used for decoration. Methydia's face graced the front, or forward, balloon. The legend, Methydia's Flying Circus", the aft.

  The quantities of hot air required to lift the vessel were provided by two big furnaces, called burners, with magically operated bellows to fan the fuela mixture of crumbled animal dung, dried herbs and witch's powders that gave off a faint odor of ammonia. Ballast was ordinary sand in ordinary bags that could be spilled out to gain greater heights. To descend, you worked the mouth"pulling on ropes that widened the balloons bottom openings so that gas could escape. One thing needing constant attention were the big clampsor carabinersthat were attached the cables holding the Cloudship's body to the balloons. They tended to loosen in a rough wind and had to be tightened constantly.

  Beyond that, the vessel seemed simple enough to operate. Although sometimes there were periods of intenseand to Safar, bewilderingactivity, mostly the Cloudship seemed to run itself. Besides the main members of the troupe, there was a crew of half-a-dozen men and women called roustabouts. They were usually busy attending to the equipment and props that went into making a circus, leaving the routine operation of the Cloudship to the performers.

  Part of that routine was steering. The task was p
erformed on the bridge, where a large ship's wheel was mounted. The spoked wheel was linked to an elaborate system of scoops, sails and rudders that provided steerage.

  "How fast does she go? Safar asked Biner one day. It was Biner's turn at the wheel, while Safar had the task of keeping an eye on the compass.

  "Depends on the wind, Biner said, and the temperature. We've made as much as three hundred miles in a day. Other times we've been becalmed and made less than thirty in a week."

  Safar watched Biner work the wheel. Despite the elaborate steering system it seemed to him direction was mainly determined by the wind.

  "What happens in a storm? he asked.

  Biner chortled. We pray a lot. And Methydia casts her spells. But mostly we pray. If there aren't any mountains about it's best just to let the storm be the boss. If there are, we tie up to something and hang on. Worst thing you can do is put her on the ground. That's if the storm doesn't give you any notice and you can't find a barn big enough to hold her. Wind can rip her up before you get the balloons collapsed and stowed away."

  Safar could see straight off that, storm or not, the best place to be was sailing high above the earth where no oneking or outlawcould reach you.

  He thought of his recent troubles in Walaria and said, It's too bad you ever have to come down."

  Biner nodded understanding. Safar had told the crew an abbreviated version of his tale of woe.

  "Gotta eat, he said. Food may grow in trees, but not in the air. His massive shoulders rolled in a shrug. Ground's not all bad. Wait'll you work your first show. Nothing like an audience's applause to restore your good feelings about folks. Especially the tikes, way their eyes light up warms you from the inside out."

  It had already been agreed that Safar could travel with the troupe for awhile. To earn his keep he was being trained to handle the hundreds of small details that went intoin circus parlance"wowing the rubes."