Part 50 (1/2)

He set down the tome and laughed despite himself. ”It certainly was designed to be well used. The entries run on and on for what must be hundreds and hundreds of years. I doubt that anyone would really care, unless it was pa.s.sed on from one generation to the next. Surely what is here will last Myra and her crew before a twentieth is spent.”

Kestrel shrugged and hefted the s.e.xtant. ”But enough of that. Prepare to toss your powders into the fire.” He looked in the direction of the setting sun and found the brightest of the evening stars. The slosh of the waves against the raft was definitely greater than against the ma.s.sive sides of the barge. Only with difficulty was he able to keep what he looked at in the center of view.

Kestrel grunted at the heaviness of the s.e.xtant, swinging it slowly to the second sighting. The screws felt awkward to his touch and wobbled in their shafts as he tried to adjust a cursor. He ran his hand over the blistered skin of iron that framed a cloudy lens. The craftsmans.h.i.+p was

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quite primitive, but he supposed it did not really matter. The heading he would shout back to Myra's barges would be the first that popped into his mind. It would depend solely upon her luck if it were accurate or not.

When he had completed the last sighting Kestrel thumbed through the book as if he were searching for corresponding entries. Phoebe tensed at his side with her hand in the pocket of her cape, ready to toss out the powder. After a moment, he stood up on the rocking platform and cupped his hands to his mouth. ”A third of a circle away from the direction of the setting sun,” he shouted. ”The calculations have been made and there is no doubt about-”

Before he could finish, the archer released his bow. The arrow sliced through the gathering gloom of night and hit the raft squarely on the side closest to Myra's s.h.i.+ps. Kestrel bent over and fanned the flames, no longer caring about what the aleators thought of his actions. He looked at Phoebe and saw her face flushed with confidence. With clenched fists, she waved her arms upward, seeming to add energy to the flame. The sparkling powder danced from her hand and fell squarely into the blaze.

Kestrel felt his own tension grow. Soon it really would be over. Without the rush of combining realms Camonel could head directly to wherever they wished. He could find Astron and Nimbia and send the small demon back to his own realm. Then with Palodad- Kestrel stopped. He had not fully thought through the reason they wanted to find the anvilwood and send Astron home alone in the first place. Suppose he was right and Camonel was under the control of some wizard; perhaps even Prydwin was manipulating things beyond his own realm. Kestrel touched the s.e.xtant at his side and frowned. Manipulations in another realm-a navigator's almanac and s.e.xtant served exactly the same end.

Kestrel reached out and touched Phoebe's shoulder, even though he knew he should not. ”Wait a moment,” he said. ”Perhaps it would be better if it were some other demon that you-”

Kestrel's words were cut short. With a hiss of foul-

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tasting air, the ma.s.sive djinn stepped from the flame and stood as a sinister, dark silhouette against the last rays of

the sun.

”I, Camonel, submit to your will because my prince

palodad instructs it,” the demon said. ”There is no need for a struggle of wills. Speak your command and it will be mine to perform.”

”Never mind about princes and allegiances in the realm of daemon,” Kestrel said before Phoebe could speak. Her eyes darted to him, but he rushed on, ignoring her puzzlement. ”It is your mastery which we wish to know. Yes, not princes but masters. Is the wizard here the one who dominates your will totally so that you must do all that she asks, or is there another who instructs you instead to say the words that prevent any true struggle from taking place?”

Sparkles of blue began to dance about Camonel's teeth in the twilight. In the faint glow, Kestrel saw the demon's scowl grow into one of true menace. For a long moment, the djinn was silent. Then his rumbling voice again came forth.

”Where is Astron, the one who walks? It is not only the pollen. He is needed as well.”

”Your master-who is it truly?” Phoebe asked suddenly, apparently catching the drift of Kestrel's thought. ”Now that I think of it, each time was too easy. I was too flushed in victory to examine closely how I felt. You merely said that I was yours to dominate, but never was there a true test.”

”Prince Palodad instructs that I serve and-”

”Not him,” Phoebe interrupted. ”Not another demon -your master. What is his name?”

Kestrel sucked in his breath. He looked up at the glowing yellow eyes of the djinn and felt a cold numbness creeping down his spine. If Camonel was not under Phoebe's control, what would happen then?

Again Camonel was silent for a long moment. His face distorted in indecision. Finally he answered in a staccato popping of sparks that shot from his teeth and lips. ”I am to do whatever I am asked by you, provided that it does not conflict with what I otherwise have been told.”

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”Then the need for Astron to accompany the pollen, Palodad's words that the grains held some clue to the answer-”