"That was lust talking, Safar said.
Iraj snickered, then wrapped his arms around himself in a comic embrace. And yours was undying Love, right? A Love that could not be denied. Come, my friend!"
"She laughed at me, Safar confessed, blushing.
"What of it? Iraj answered. You rode her all night and half the next morning. And then, in a moment of weakness, you asked her to be your wife. She tells you, charmingly, I imagine, and with a few tricks to arouse you some more, that she has no intention of making bread and babies for a village boy the rest of her life. She's a courtesan with as much beauty as ambition. You persist. Climbing between those lovely thighs once again, I expect. Another blush from Safar told Iraj he'd guessed right. And then she laughed. You should be the one laughing. You got what you wanted. I saw to that. And now you're done with her and she's the loser for spurning you. You are Safar Timura! A man meant for great things. The very sort of man she prays every day is in her future."
"I can't look at things as coldly as you, Safar said.
"Don't then, Iraj said, shrugging. But I suspect you'll come around to my view soon enough. Bed your women when you can, whenever you can. A courtesan's scornful laughafter the deed is doneis no price at all. The truth is the next man who rides Astarias will be old and fat and it'll be your memory she'll cleave to when she's forced to pretend her fat old master is a handsome god."
Iraj's callous words of comfort, although spoken in friendship, did little to soothe Safar's wounded spirit. So he was grateful when Iraj gave a sudden shout of discovery.
"Look at this! he cried, dropping to his knees and digging in the snow.
Safar crowded close to see. A demon's face emerged beneath Iraj's scraping fingers. The corpse's features were a pale, bluish green. Dagger-size fangs hooked out from the grimacing mouth. Although Safar and Iraj had no way of knowing it, the demon was Giff and the look on his face was as surprised in death as it had been when Iraj had drawn his blade across his throat. Safar turned away.
"This is the demon I killed! Iraj said. I can tell from the wounds. With a finger he traced the gaping red gash beneath Giff's pointed chin.
"Cover him up, Safar urged.
"I will, Iraj said, but first he unsheathed his knife.
Safar glanced over and was horrified when he saw his friend digging out the fangs with the blade point. What are you doing?"
"Taking his teeth, Iraj said. I want to make a necklace of them."
Safar, who had never become used to his friend's plains savage ways, kept his eyes averted. I thought we'd agreed to keep the whole thing a secret, he said. So people don't become unnecessarily alarmed."
Iraj snorted. I'll keep my promise to Coralean, he said. But in my own way."
He held up the bloody fangs and Safar couldn't help but look. I'll make a chain of these to wear around my neck when I greet my enemies. They'll won't know what they are, exactly. But they'll be dripping green slime from their arses wondering what kind of a beast it was I killed."
Despite his revulsion, Safar understood. Iraj's kinsman had just arrived in Kyrania to inform the young prince it was safe to return home. Apparently Iraj's turncoat uncleLord Fulainhad fallen ill. His soldiers had become dispirited and his ally, Koralia Kan, had been forced to sue for peace. As part of that peace Iraj was permitted to return and take his place as hereditary leader of the clan. There were provisos, of course, intended to keep him weakleader in name only. But Iraj was already planning how to get around them.
Iraj put the teeth in a leather pouch and tucked it into his belt. Then he covered up Giff's corpse, smoothing the snow until all looked as before.
"I wish I could convince you to stay in Kyrania, Safar said. This could all be a lie to entice you out of the mountains."
"At least part of it is a lie, Iraj said, rising to his feet and brushing snow from his knees. But they'll pretend otherwise for awhile. When Fulain becomes well the blood feud will start again. But I intend to be ready when that happens. He touched the leather pouch containing the demon fangs. I'm young, they'll claim. Untested in battle. These teeth will say otherwise. I'll keep where I got them a mystery, which will only add to their power."
Safar, wanting to avoid further discussion of the matter, said, I'm getting cold. Let's go back to the cave."
A half hour later they were crouched in the cavern, warming their hands over a small fire. The painting of Alisarrian hung over them, glowing eerily.
"You haven't mentioned your own plans, Iraj said, digging out some dried goat's flesh. What will you do after I leave? I still can't imagine you being content as Safar Timura the potter."
"I don't know why, Safar said. It's easy enough for me to envision."
"You know as well as I do, Iraj said, that you're dodging the truth. You're a wizard, Safar. The teeth I collected are nothing compared to what you have a right to. How can you possibly refuse Coralean's gift of an education at the finest university in Esmir?"
Safar sighed. I wish I could, he said, but I don't think my family is going to let me."
"Or Gubadan, Iraj pointed out.
Safar nodded. He's worse than they are, he said. He claims I'll be shaming all Kyrania if I refuse the chance. That there's much good I'll be able to do when I return home with all that learning."
"He's right about the first, Iraj said. It would shame your people. In the whole history of Kyrania it's unlikely any of its sons had such an opportunity. But Gubadan's wrong about the second part. You won't return, Safar. I'm no Dreamcatcher like you, but I know once you leave Kyrania you'll never return. Because you'll be with me, remember?"
"That was a false vision, Safar said.
"Are you sure? Iraj asked, smiling.
"Absolutely, Safar answered. You're the ambitious one. Not me."
"What of your other vision? Iraj said. The dancing people and the volcano? Do you think that's wrong as well?"
Safar hesitated, then, No, I don't. And that's the main reason I'll probably end up giving in to my family and Gubadan. The only place I can find out what the vision meant is Walaria."
"Whatever your reason, Safar, Iraj said. I beg you to make up your mind as soon as possible. Learn as much as you can. As fast as you can. For I promise that someday, when you least expect it, I'll show up to plead with you to join me."
"And I'll refuse, Safar said. You are my friend. But I'll still say no."
"Why don't we test it? Iraj asked. He hauled out the leather pouch and shook Giff's bloody teeth into a palm. Then, in a mock intonation, he said, Cast these bones, O Master Wizard, and pray tell us what the future holds."
"Don't be silly, Safar said. I'm no bone caster."
"Then there's no reason to be afraid, Iraj said. Here, I'll even clean them up for you."
He rubbed some of the blood off on the leather pouch and held them out. Safar didn't move, so Iraj grabbed his right hand, pulled it forward and dropped the four fangs into Safar's outstretched palm. Safar didn't resist, automatically closing his fist over them.
"What do we do now? Iraj said. Make some kind of chant and toss them, I suppose?"
"I don't want to do this, Safar said.
"I'll tell you what, Iraj said, to make it easier, I'll chant and you toss. Okay?"
Without waiting for an answer Iraj drew a breath and then intoned:
"Bones, bones, demon's though you be, Tell us what the future holds, What roads shall we see?"
As Iraj chanted the demon's teeth suddenly grew warm in Safar's hand. Instinctively he loosened his hand and shook the fangs like dice.
"Chanting was never one of my best subjects, Iraj said. He laughed. But if I can chance making a complete fool of myself, so can… and his voice trailed off as he saw Safar rattle the bones, blue eyes glowing in concentration.
Safar cast them on the cave floor and instead of a dull clatter, the sound was like the ring of steel against steel.
Red smoke hissed up, rising like a snake and the two lads drew back in alarm. The smoke was thick, smelling of old blood, and it swirled in front of them like a miniature desert dervisha slender funnel at the bottom, billowing into a fist-size head on top. Then a mouth seemed to form, curving into a seductive smile.
The lips parted and they heard a woman 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."
The smoke suddenly vanished, leaving the two young men gaping at the four small gray piles of ash where the demon fangs had been. It was as if they'd been consumed by a hot flame.
Iraj recovered first. You see? he chortled. We heard it from the mouth of the Oracle herself. He threw an arm around Safar's shoulders. 'Brothers of the spirit, but not the womb,' he quoted. What a pair we shall make! The King of Kings and his Grand Wazier!"
"That's not exactly what the Oracle said, Safar replied. Hells, whoever she was, we don't even know if she was speaking about us."
Iraj made a rude noise. I don't see anyone else here in this cave with us, he said. Who else could she mean?"
"There was also a warning, Safar said. Don't forget the warning."
"Sure, sure, Iraj said, impatient. I heard. And I'm forewarned. It's settled then. I'll return home with my uncle and start building my forces. And you'll go to Walaria and learn as much as you can until it's time for us to be rejoined."
"I'm not convinced that was what the Oracle was predicting, Safar said.
"Of course she was, Iraj replied. But it doesn't matter what either of us think. We'll find out for ourselves in the days to come. Just think of me sometimes. When you're in Walaria up to your elbows in dusty books and scrolls, think of me riding free across the southern plains, an army of horsemen at my back carrying my standard. It will be the banner of Alisarrian that I fly as I charge from victory to victory."
He tapped Safar's chest. And it will be the banner of Alisarrian you will be carrying in your heart, he said. We'll make a better world before we're done, Safar. A better Esmir for all."
It was then that Safar finally made up his mind. He'd leave his beloved Kyrania and go to Walaria. He'd enter the university at the Grand Temple, pore over every tome, soaking up all the knowledge he could hold.
The decision had nothing to do with Iraj's impassioned speech. Safar was remembering the Oracle's final words about the land of fires. Hadin was known as The Land of Fires! Hadin, where the handsome people of his vision danced and died and a mighty volcano raged, spewing flames and poisonous clouds into a darkening sky.
"You have decided to go, haven't you? he heard Iraj say.
Safar looked up and saw his friend's eyes ablaze with joy as he read Safar's intentions on his face. Yes, he answered. I've decided."
"Then let us say farewell now, brother mine, Iraj said. A great dream awaits us. The sooner we get started, the sooner that dream will come true."
And so the two young men embraced and swore eternal brotherhood and friendship.
Iraj took one road. Safar another. But neither doubtedfor entirely different reasonsthe roads would someday converge.
And that they'd meet again.
Part Two