Nalsyrra entered the Grand Temple of the White Tigress and bowed before Salahn. The Grand Master was angry and fatigued. He was often tired now, due to his sorcerous undertakings. That he lacked strength at times was a tribute to the massive scale of the rituals he conducted.

"What can I do for you, my lord?" Nalsyrra asked.

"I seek advice."

"Then I am at your service."

"I have recently seen the Farseer of Vaalshimar in the Shadowland."

"Then you have seen a being few others have ever seen," Nalsyrra said

"She was not human."

"She is Arhrhakim."

"Do you know much about them?"

"Little, my lord. But among my people, their reputation is high. In case you are wondering, the Farseer's sight is different from mine."

"She said as much. Is she a threat to me?"

"She will not risk a confrontation. Her powers are weak and her people are diminishing."

"You came to me years ago, before you joined with Karphon, and prophesied that Jaska was a danger to me. You said that I should eliminate him."

"Yes, and you should have heeded my advice. He is still a threat to you."

The Grand Master narrowed his eyes and curled his fingers through his beard. "I know what you are, Nalsyrra. Not all of us in the West have forgotten our history, and I am not a fool like Karphon."

"Or Mardha?"

"When she realized years ago that your features and the embedded qavra were the defining characteristics of a Qaiar Zindarhi, I told her that you were not, despite the evidence. I have kept your secrets just as you have kept mine.

"What I don't understand is that being a Qaiar, one of the ancients, magic comes natural to you where it is difficult for humans. You must have tremendous powers, and yet you rarely use them. What cause are you serving here?"

"I renounced all ties to my race long ago when I became an Ojaka'ari. The only cause I serve is that of the Star Spirits."

"But what is their agenda? I have never asked you before, out of respect, but now I must know."

"The Star Spirits wish to see Karphon successful and the lands of the East razed. That is why I am here. I told you to beware Bavadi years ago because Karphon would need your help."

"But why do they wish to see him conquer the East?"

"I have no idea. Just know that my presence here directly concerns Karphon and not you."

Salahn contemplated her explanation, and after a while, his tension eased. "Adynarh failed to capture Jaska. And I nearly defeated him in the Shadowland but was foiled due to an oversight in my binding of the Tigress. I now intend to pursue him myself. What do you think of this?"

"I read the omens for you before coming here, and I advise against it, my lord. Let Bavadi come to you."

"That is not my way, and he is weak now."

"You risk much."

Salahn leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. "You know this for certain?"

"Not for certain, but it is a risk, my lord."

"In what way?"

"If you go, a supernatural storm will separate you from Bavadi. And if you pursue him into that darkness, you will not return."

"Nothing can kill me."

"Beware overconfidence, my lord. I did not say that you would die, only that you would not return. There are fates worse than death, and if you enter the storm, you will become trapped there for at least a thousand years."

"Do I have a chance for success if I get him before he reaches this storm?"

"Yes, but you must hurry."

~~~

Three days passed during which Jaska didn't see his comrades. He rested alone in an apartment provided by the Arhrhakim. The jackal people brought him food but stayed out of his way. He enjoyed the much needed time alone, but to keep from thinking too much of the past, he studied and contemplated Salima's sigils for many hours.

On the fourth day, with the Farseer's guidance, Jaska peered into the past and observed the founding of the palymfar order by the surviving temple guards who had protected the prophet Salima. Soon after, the templars had modeled their martial forms on the sigils that she had left in the pass, believing that the forms held power.

Jaska memorized their prayers, analyzed their katas, and studied their methods. He learned as much as he could, given so little time, of the true arts of the palymfar and watched the masters adapt and alter them throughout the years, always improving them until the two generations before Salahn when their dedication and sincerity began to wane. This came at a time when the Hareezan city-states most accepted them and when the people lavished praise and gifts on them. The order had been ripe for Salahn's corruption.

Ohzikar, Bakulus, Caracyn, Hyrkas, and the two other Arhrhakim, Lharro and Chaolis, watched and learned the lost arts alongside Jaska, though there was much that they didn't understand since they lacked the basic knowledge Jaska had spent years mastering. When it was finished, Jaska thanked the Farseer and turned to his new students.

"Do you still wish to go on? There is much to learn."

Caracyn clenched his fist and placed it against chest. "More than ever, Kharos."

"I agree," said Hyrkas.

"Yes," said Ohzikar. "I'm certain this is my calling now, especially since I have no brethren of my own anymore."

Jaska turned to Zyrella who had come to see if their mission had been a success. "Do you have any problem with this?"

She avoided eye contact with him and nodded. "Ohzikar may do as he wishes. And he will need a task after I am dead."

Ohzikar replied with frustration, "You're not going to die."

"My doom will come against Salahn sooner or later. I have always known that, and it has never been clearer to me than it is now. If you wish, you can ask the Farseer about my odds of survival."

With that she left and the others declined to ask the Farseer, who had retreated into the shadows and remained silent. It was clear that she was angry with Hyrkas and the other two, but she wasn't standing in their way.

~~~

Within a summoning pentacle, Nurit cut the throats of three horses and fled. Salahn chanted arcane spells while Mardha sprinkled black rose petals and the crushed bones of several hawks onto the horses and backed away. Salahn opened a portal from the Shadowland and invited a specific type of demon he'd bound into his service to emerge and enter the corpses.

"Urhrasnah! Urhrasnah!" he chanted repeatedly until the demons came.

Mardha stood nearby and watched, with the sea winds whipping hair into her face. The Urhrasnah howled in anger as Salahn's binding caused them to animate the slaughtered horses. When the horses stood again, black flames poured from their eyes and hooves. They tossed their heads and neighed with sulfurous vapors steaming from their mouths and nostrils.

Salahn ordered them to kneel, and the horses did so. Mardha stepped forward and put her hand on Salahn's shoulder. "Another success, father."

"It becomes easier each day." He stretched, grimacing a little as he did so.

"Does your chest hurt still?"

"Only a little. Your sister will pay for that."

"It's lucky she had no better way to use that weakness against you."

"It is no longer a weakness, but I cannot guarantee there won't be others. We must never underestimate her. She knows more than I thought about sorcery and her goddess." Salahn called to Nurit and ordered buckets of animal blood be brought to feed the demon-horses. "I trust you can maintain my rituals while I'm away, Mardha."

"I won't let you down, father."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her. "I knew I could count on you. Watch Nurit and see that he manages everything well. Karphon and Nalsyrra will not return before I do, so remember that you effectively run the city if any of the bureaucrats step out of line."

Nurit brought several palymfar with him, and they saddled the horses who thirstily lapped up the blood brought to them. Salahn donned a sinuous charcoal cloak that fluttered as if it had a life of its own. He wore only pants and sandals, no shirt. A bandolier across his chest held an assortment of throwing spikes. A leather belt held a bagh nakh and a saber.

Salahn climbed into the saddle and took up the reins of all three horses. He chanted a spell of speed and awareness, and then commanded them to gallop. Out through the gates of the palymfar compound and then those of the city, the horses flew, like an ill wind. They traveled twice the speed of a normal mount and would never tire.

Salahn rode down onto the beach and out onto the waves. The horses' black, flame-shrouded hooves ran over the water as if it were dry land, carrying the Grand Master toward the island of Vaalshimar.

~~~

The Arhrhakim held a solemn feast to honor the three of their race who would venture out to save the world. When it was done, Hyrkas led Jaska and the others down a long tunnel that emerged on the eastern face of the mountain. In this way, they avoided Adynarh and the few palymfar yet alive who waited to ambush them.

As they traveled, the Farseer's last words echoed in Jaska's mind: "Salahn himself pursues you now. If you can escape him, you will find allies in the desert. But be wary, for they have a powerful enemy of their own."

Jaska didn't want to link himself to more people whose safety he'd be responsible for. The ties he had now were far too many. Bakulus and Caracyn hung on his every word, with pity for him welling in their eyes. Even Ohzikar had accepted him at last. Though Zyrella, who had defended him in the beginning, now acted as if his mere presence scalded her. That reaction hurt him, but he knew it was for the best.

In the course of three days, they crossed the barren, rocky land and reached Ylclys--a shabby, rustic town with dilapidated docks and little of interest to any visitor. Despite its prime position, Vaalshimar's single port hosted only desperate traders and a few fishers, for the land was poor, the reefs dense, and there were rumors of dark powers here that were best left alone.

When they spotted the Spindrift Cloud in the harbor, they were relieved and even shared a moment of celebratory laughter, having thought the ship burned and the crew likely lost. Once Jaska verified from the Shadowland that it was safe, he and the others hurried to the ship. Captain Rohl, Sergeant Daras, and Tieros Rowman greeted them at the dock.

Tieros pulled each of them into an embrace, and the hug even brought a brief smile to Zyrella's face. Tieros eyed the three tall, cloaked strangers with suspicion and avoided them after a brief nod of introduction. Then he summed up what had happened on the beach and Rohl and Daras praised him as a hero and recounted their few losses among the men.

Zyrella kissed Tieros on the cheek. "May the White Tigress bless you all your days. I will never forget what you have done for us."

Tieros blushed. "What we did was nothing, especially my part."

"I think not," Ohzikar said and he told them how they had barely reached the mountain, though he refrained from telling them the Arhrhakim were anything but human.

"Now, we need to sail," said Jaska.

"The ship is yours, Kharos."

"I need to go to the Sheflar Wastes, but I also need to avoid major ports like Xampaji. Any barren stretch of coastline will do, Captain."

Ohzikar motioned toward the three Arhrhakim. "Sergeant, our new friends could use a place to stay, perhaps with your men if that wouldn't be a problem."

"None at all."

Hyrkas bowed and introduced himself and the others. The mercenary leader looked at them curiously. Even though he had touched Hyrkas, he didn't realize they weren't human. The Farseer's magic was working well.

After Ohzikar and Zyrella moved on to the owner's cabin, which Tieros had vacated for them, Jaska said to Tieros, "I'm afraid I won't have time to row with you this trip, but I think I'll bunk with you below if you don't mind."

"Are there problems among you?"

"Grief over something in the past. It will mend in time."

Tieros nodded. "It's good to have you back, Kharos."

Jaska chuckled. "You are the only man on earth who would be thankful to see Jaska the Slayer come aboard his ship."

Tieros roared with laughter and led Jaska down to his bunk to stow his gear before heading to his station at the oars. Within an hour, the ship set out, propelled northward by a strong southern wind.

~~~

Huddled in their voluminous grey cloaks, the three Arhrhakim warriors stood in the ship's bow, watching the blue-green ocean pass beneath them. The massed clouds overhead and the drizzling rain were a relief, given the flat open expanse around them. They weren't quite ready to deal with both the ocean and a clear sky above. At home they frequently hunted the mountains of Vaalshimar, but it was almost always at night and often in the fog. The sea was distant, and the mountain was always nearby like a comforting mother.

"It's more fantastic than I'd ever dreamed," Chaolis whispered. In his mid-thirties, he was the youngest, and he had always hungered for something more than the confines of his enclosed homeland. Only because of this desire and his infertility had the Farseer allowed him to take this quest.

"I could do without it," replied Lharro, the eldest in his late fifties.

"Come on," Chaolis said, "surely this is worth any sacrifice."

"Not for me. If the need wasn't so great, I would not have left my wife or my child."

"Your wife is a shrew. You said so yourself. And your daughter has a husband."

Lharro snarled. "Only I am allowed to call Metheera a shrew. And what if my daughter gets pregnant while I'm gone? I can't expect that fool of a husband she has to watch over her properly."

"Anteres is a fine lad," Hyrkas said with a grin. Hyrkas was their leader, forty-four years old and lean-muscled, with a capable mind and unwavering serenity. He was like the prototypical Arhrhakim heroes of old. If anyone was ever going to leave Vaalshimar, it had to be him. "Don't be so hard on the boy. And don't be such an old man. This is the experience of a lifetime."

"I'd have gone for the trip alone," Chaolis said.

"Enjoy the experience," Hyrkas said, "but don't get too caught up in it. Remember that our primary objective is to help in the battle against Salahn."

"Do you think we'll find the temple?" Chaolis asked.

"I think so," Hyrkas said. "Surely it is Jaska Bavadi's destiny to do so."

"What of our own?"

Hyrkas shrugged. "I don't know, but I plan to see it all the way through, as best as I can."

~~~

As the ship sailed through the Gulf of Balaryn, Zyrella stood aft, watching the wake glowing in Avida's light. She thought of the two years her mother had suffered Salahn's abuse, of her twisted half-sister Mardha, of how Jaska desired both her and Mardha. She had so many terrible thoughts that no single one dominated her.

She heard Ohzikar's heavy, rolling steps approaching and took a deep breath, trying to calm the swirl of emotions. As he stepped alongside her, she faced him and saw the worry in his eyes. She melted into his arms. Ohzikar said nothing. He merely held Zyrella and let her cry onto his chest. Eventually she shifted and looked up into his face. He smiled warmly and smoothed her hair.

"I'm sorry I'm a wreck."

"None of this is your fault. You always want to take responsibility for everyone's troubles, but you can't."

"It's not being able to change anything that really gets to me. I want to help my mother. I have the power now but she is so far gone. And I have a sister, Ohzi. She was beautiful wasn't she?"

"Almost as beautiful as you, but twisted."

"Do you think Jaska sees her when he sees me?"

"I have no idea."

She stroked his cheek. "Make love to me, Ohzi. I need to feel close to you tonight. I need your strength."

~~~

On a high cliff outside Ylclys, Adynarh watched with trepidation as Grandmaster Salahn rode a demon-horse across the sea with two more in tow. Except for the binding of the White Tigress, he had never seen a greater display of sorcerous power.

Salahn rode up onto the island and circled to the hill's slope. When he arrived, Adynarh and the seven palymfar left with him all bowed and apologized for their failure. All were surprised when the Grandmaster pardoned them as if nothing had happened.

"It is not your fault. They are more powerful than I thought. And Jaska, as you may have figured out, is a traitor of his own free will."

"How could this happen, my lord?" Adynarh said.

The Grandmaster looked at him out of the corner of his eyes while he faced the sea. After a few moments, he sighed and dismissed the other palymfar. "Adynarh, I am going to tell you something that until now only myself and Mardha knew."

Adynarh bowed his head as if humbled but he swelled with pride. He had risen to the position Jaska had long held, though he would never have such skill or repute.

"Jaska was not himself when he was with us. I bound his soul long ago. All these years he has believed himself a true palymfar spreading good throughout Hareez on a noble crusade."

Adynarh laughed. "But he has killed more men and raped more women than anyone before him."

"He was not truly conscious of his actions. He behaved in the manner I wanted him to behave and I locked away all that was noble in his mind, leaving only his base desires.

"I coveted his talent and made him my slave. But when his qavra was separated from him, my bindings were removed."

"Is he the only one?" Adynarh said, suddenly wondering if he himself had been bound.

"I bound no others. I tried to corrupt Jaska when I took him in as a youth, but he was incorruptible. In a way, I regret what I did. Binding him was like breaking a work of art that was not to my taste but a work of art nonetheless."

Adynarh had never seen the Grandmaster in a mood like this before. He was afraid to say anything else. For a while, Salahn merely stared out at the choppy sea.

"I should have eliminated Jaska instead of using him. I cannot imagine any way that he or the priestess could hurt me, but I am not going to leave it up to fate. Adynarh, choose the best man left with you and together the three of us will slay Jaska."

Salahn stalked back toward his mount. Adynarh chose grim, silent Hjrun to accompany them and dispatched the others to return home however they might. Fearfully, he and Hjrun mounted the demonic horses and learned to command them through simple spells Salahn taught them. Then they rode out onto the sea.

At first, the beast's speed and abilities frightened Adynarh, but as he learned to trust it beneath him, he began to enjoy the ride, especially as the horse kicked sea spray up around him. Experiences like this made him glad he was a palymfar.

~~~

Weighted down with recently purchased cargo, the Spindrift Cloud ran softly aground fifty yards shy of the beach. Jaska finished his second scan of the coast through the Shadowland and found no enemies. He did, however, sense Grand Master Salahn coming toward them.

Tieros Rowman met them as they prepared to jump into the sea and wade to shore, dragging their supplies with them on a makeshift raft.

"I guess this is our last goodbye, Kharos."

Jaska clasped his shoulder. "You're a good man, Tieros, and you'll do this ship proud."

"I'll do my best."

Jaska leapt into the warm seawater, waded to the shore, and helped the Arhrhakim drag the raft up onto the beach. They waved to the galley as the rowers pulled it back into deep water. Then they marched to a nearby village and purchased the best horses they could find, luckily finding mounts that could handle the height and weight of the three Arhrhakim.

The Arhrhakim disliked riding but learned quickly since they had little choice in it. As they ventured from the green coastland into the northern scrub and headed toward the desert, the group stopped only as long as they must to rest each night. Salahn was moving fast toward them, but there was only so much they could do.