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"How much longer?" asked Sheila, a note of uneasiness in her voice. Though she had fumbled in her pack and found her lighter, it was only small comfort against the blackness all around her. And then there was the terrible stifling heat of the tunnel's narrow passageways.
"I believe we are almost there," Illyria said, bending toward the lighter to study Vasim's crude map. Sure enough, they soon came to the steep steps that marked the end of the tunnel. Illyria climbed up first and, using all her strength, pushed open the metal hatch above her head. She peered out cautiously.
The hatch opened onto an empty side alley.
With a grunt Illyria pushed the hatch all the way up and climbed out. Zanara-Ki and Sheila followed quickly behind her. The main street which intersected the alley was crowded with people all heading in the same direction.
"It looks like there's a parade or something," said Sheila. "Let's go see.
"Not yet," Illyria cautioned, placing a strong hand on her shoulder, "We're sure to stand out in these clothes. We must find disguises."
"Luck is with us," said Zanara-Ki, rummaging through a pile of rubbish stacked against the building. "Look at all the cloth among this refuse."
Illyria and Sheila joined her and soon they had sorted out some stained and torn material. "We won't look like grand ladies, but do the best you can with it," said Illyria, draping a long piece of gauze over her head and letting it fall to her knees. She used her own thick brown cord belt to cinch it at the waist.
Sheila saw that some of the women in the street were wearing turbans that let their long hair spill out the middle. She fashioned herself a headpiece in the same style and then wrapped a piece of light blue patterned material around her waist as a long skirt. She ripped the neckline of her T-shirt and let it fall off her shoulders in the same style the women on the street were wearing.
Zanara-Ki had wrapped some fabric around her waist and knotted it at her hip to reveal one leg. "You will do as peasant women," she said, looking her companions over. 'But we need color for the eyes. All of the Queelotoons, men and women, wear color on their eyes."
Sheila dug into her pack and pulled out the zinc oxide. "Perfect," said Zanara-Ki, and the three of them applied the purple cream to their lids.
"One more thing," said Illyria, and she pulled a dazzling jewel of cobalt blue from the bag at her waist: the Gem of Speaking. "We would not get very far out there with no knowledge of the language," she said.
Illyria held out the stone in her palm, instructing Sheila to lay her hand over it as well. "Now, Zanara-Ki," she said, since you speak Quceelotoon, we need you to lay both your hands over ours and fill your head with the language of this land."
Zanara-Ki did as she was told, shutting her eyes in intense concentration. Sheila also closed her eyes and immediately felt a tingle run across her forehead. The blackness behind her lids changed to green and then to a deep blue, the very same color as the gem. Her eyes snapped open.
"Did it work?” Zanara-Ki asked.
"I don't know."
Zanara-Ki smiled. "Obviously it did. I asked you the question in Queelotoon and you understood me."
"Enough talk," Illyria said. "In any language! It is time to go." And stepping out into the main street, the three "peasants" were quickly swept up by the surging crowd.
"There he is!" they heard a woman cry our. Coming toward them, down the crowded street, was a procession of shirtless guards wearing ballooned pants, sashes across their chests, and broad sabers at their sides. Behind them were four slaves, each carrying one corner of a golden carriage that was open on all sides. Sheila could see a reclining figure silhouetted within the case, but the spun-gold cloth draped across the sides kept her from seeing the person in any detail.
"That's got to be Ankzar," Illyria deduced as she stood staring, jostled by the crowd.
Sheila broke out in a cold sweat as she sighted the next person in the procession: Mardock, waving joylessly to the crowd while being carried along on an ornate sultan's chair. His jet-black robes were in sharp contrast to the golds, greens, and reds of the people and buildings around him.
"If we follow this procession, it will lead us to the palace," Zanara-Ki said. "We are lucky to have come on this date. Twice a year Ankzar allows the people to adore him. He will even let a certain number of them into his palace for a celebration of his greatness. If we hurry, perhaps we can sneak into the palace with the crowd."
"These people are awfully excited," Sheila noticed. "They must really like this Ankzar guy.”
"They hate him," Zanara-Ki told her as they rushed along, trying to get to the front of the crowd, "but starving people do not turn up their noses at a free meal."
The crowd streamed down the street to a long square building along one of the city's walls. After Ankzar and Mardock had entered the court, the guards then allowed the crowd to rush through the golden rungs of the high front gates for about five minutes before they began to close them.
Sheila quickened her pace as she realized she was about to be shut out. Zanara-Ki, already on the other side, reached out and grasped her forearm. A man behind Sheila knocked her to her knees in his frenzy to get through the closing gate—but Zanara-Ki held tight. With remarkable strength she lifted Sheila and pulled her through the gate just before the guard gave it a final pull. The remaining crowd was locked outside.
The lucky ones who had made it through were herded into a large courtyard that had been set with the most sumptuous meal: succulent pigs roasted on spits. Dried fruits of every description overflowed huge cut-glass bowls. Large loaves of warm eggbreads filled the air with their buttery fragrance. An army of slaves poured wine from great golden pitchers. It was a feast far beyond Sheila's imagination.
"Let's find our way into the palace," said Illyria. But then, noticing the disappointed look on Sheila's face, she added, "All right, we will all eat quickly. It has been a long day."
Sheila piled her plate high with food and wolfed it down. She was ravenously hungry; but famished as she was, her appetite in no way compared to that of the people around her. They stuffed themselves as though they hadn't eaten in years. Sheila wondered at the cruelty of Ankzar. How could a man horde such riches while his people starved?
She was about to make her way back for a second serving when Sheila saw Illyria wave to her. She cracked her knuckles nervously. "Here we go," she muttered under her breath.
With a quick hand signal, Illyria summoned Sheila and Zanara-Ki over to a grouping of large wicker baskets. Servants dressed in white tunics were carrying the baskets into the palace.
Trying to look casual, they waited for a moment when the guard by the baskets would be distracted. It came quickly: a women was caught secreting food into a pouch under her robe. Apparently this was forbidden, and the guard turned to wrestle the pouch away from the emaciated woman. Without a word, each of the three warriors hopped into the last three remaining baskets.
Sheila found herself crammed inside a basket filled with soft silks. "What sort of material is this that's so heavy?" she heard one slave grumble as he lifted the basket. When he put it right down again, Sheila almost stopped breathing. Was he going to check inside?
"Stop complaining and get to work!" a harsh voice called out, and Sheila's whole body sagged with relief as the slave picked the basket back up.
Sheila was jostled along for a few minutes, and then the basket was plopped down again. This time she waited for the voices of the slaves to fade away, then lifted the basket lid.
The three warriors found themselves in a wide open room with thick mats laid out on the floor.
"This is the female servants' quarters," said Zanara-Ki, climbing out of her basket.
Illyria wasted no time in pulling off her raggedy disguise and the tunic and armor she wore underneath it. She grabbed one of several long white strapless gowns that were hanging on nearby hooks. "This is what the servants wear?" she checked with Zanara-Ki as she stepped into the dress.
Zanara-Ki nodded. "They drape those gauze cloths over the dresses," she added, pointing to a row of white caftans hanging beside the dresses.
"Well, quickly, you two, find ones that fit and get into them," Illyria ordered. "Hide as much weaponry as you can under the caftans—a most fortunate fashion for our purposes.
Sheila looked at her pack. She didn't want to lose it, but there was no way she could hide it under the caftan without looking like a hunchback. Maybe if I spread the weight out, she thought. She pulled out her tape recorder and strapped it around her waist. There wasn’t really anything else she could strap on, so she crushed the pack as tightly as she could and tied the straps around her waist. So I look like a fat servant. Big deal.
"Now," said Illyria, "we must find Ankzar and force him to free Dr. Reit and break the unicorns' spell."
"What if he refuses?" asked Sheila.
Illyria tapped the hilt of the sword she wore under her caftan. "He won't refuse.''
The Unicorn Queen led the way out of the servants' quarters. "Perhaps we should go directly to Ankzar's bedchambers and wait, hidden, for him to retire," Zanara-Ki suggested. "That is our best chance to find him alone."
Illyria nodded and headed down an arched hallway covered with glittering jewel-specked tiles.
"Uh-oh," whispered Sheila. "Look who's coming."
Mardock was striding directly toward them, arms clasped behind his back, head bowed, deep in thought. "Avert your eyes and look humble," Zanara-Ki instructed in a low voice.
The wizard passed them without a second look. Then he turned back. "Girl!" he called.
Zanara-Ki stepped forward, her head hung low. "See that my dinner is brought to my room tonight. I wish to dine alone," Mardock ordered.
Zanara-Ki bowed and backed away. Sheila shut her eyes and exhaled sharply as Mardock turned and resumed his walk. Suddenly he turned back to them. "Oh, and girl," he called, "another thing."
Once again Sheila froze, barely daring to breathe. "I need some equipment carried from my chambers to the torture room. Bring one of the other girls," said Mardock. "Come, follow me."
“Stay in back of Zanara-Ki," Illyria muttered to Sheila. Shaking all over, Sheila stepped forward, trying to hide behind her companion.
Mardock narrowed his eyes and studied the two servants standing timidly before him. "Oh, never mind, it can wait," he said, dismissing them with an impatient wave of his hand.
Again Sheila felt her whole body sag with relief as she turned and followed Illyria and Zanara-Ki down the hall. But just minutes later she heard the sound of many footsteps running down the hall. Checking quickly over her shoulder, she saw Mardock leading a group of at least twenty guards down the hall.
"Capture those women!" he screamed.
Sheila sprinted along the corridor, but was soon cut off by a troop of twenty more guards coming directly at her. Two guards grabbed Illyria just as she was reaching for her sword. Two others stepped up and seized Sheila and Zanara-Ki, holding knives at their throats.
Mardock laughed shrilly. "What a pleasant surprise. Did you honestly think I wouldn't recognize you?" He shoved his hate-filled face into Sheila's. "I would know you anywhere. I would know you in the dark."
Sheila breathed deeply to fight her fear. "And where is your magic pack?" Mardock snarled.
"I left it behind," Sheila spoke, trying to keep her voice steady.
Mardock's pupils widened with fury. He seized her by her caftan and ripped the material down the front. "Here it is!" he cried, greedily tearing the pack from her waist.
''Where is Dr. Reit?" Sheila shouted, fighting back tears.
Raising an eyebrow, Mardock chuckled. "News gets around," he sneered. "Or have you used your magic to contact him already? Yes, of course you have. How else could you know?"
"You'd better not have hurt him!" Sheila yelled.
A stinging slap seared Sheila's face. "Or what?" snarled Mardock, rubbing his hand.
"Or you will be hideously avenged by those who fight with me," threatened Illyria. "Now leave that child alone, you craven coward."
Mardock backed off from Illyria's wrath, his eyes darting about in search of more guards. "Take them to Ankzar," he commanded irritably.
Back To Chapter Listings!
Chapter 1: Haunted Days, Sleepless Nights
Chapter 2: Transported
Chapter 3: Return to Campora
Chapter 4: Into the Wilderness
Chapter 5: Reunion
Chapter 6: The Unicorns' Lament
Chapter 7: Spellbound
Chapter 8: Stops Along the Way
Chapter 9: The Hickorites
Chapter 10: Across the Unknown Sea
Chapter 12: In Ankzar’s Prison
Chapter 13: The Words of Reemergence
Chapter 14: Simi's Revenge
Chapter 15: Sheila’s Magic
Chapter 16: Homeward Bound
Email: Nikki