"Yes, Master, immediately, Master, Badawi said, scrapping and bowing. I am indeed speaking of Kyrania. This bowl is proof that Kyrania is near."

"You've said that more than once, human! Giff snarled.

Badawi shivered, but held his ground. Forgive me, master, he said to Sarn. This low worm you call your slave admits he stretched the truth a bit when he had the immense honor of first meeting you. I don't know exactly where Kyrania is. But I do know how to find it."

He saw the two immense demons exchange a look that did not bode well for him. So he hurried through his logic.

"Listen to me, please, he said. I'm a merchant. I know things. I know you can't hide something as large as a caravan route. So we must assume it is still to our west. How far I can't say with certainty. However, I can guess, master. The route would by necessity go from Caspan, the largest city on this side of the mountains, to Walaria. Which, as you know, is the most important kingdom on the southern side."

Badawi crouched down and scratched a map in the dust. Caravan masters are secretive, but they wouldn't waste time covering their trail. Time is money and money is time and the length of the shadow between is feared by all men of business. So I think we can assume the route is fairly direct."

Badawi kept scratching until he had the mountains sketched in and the two cities of Walaria and Caspan. Then he drew a circle. It's only reasonable to assume, master, he said, that the place you seek is within this circle. Perhaps two or three hundred miles distant at the most."

Sarn turned to his lieutenant, snout stretched in what demons considered a smile. You see, Giff, the bandit chief said, this human has been some use to us after all."

Giff peered at the greasy little human, measuring… A vote is a vote, he said with some reluctance. I'll let him be for now. But remember your promise."

Badawi was alarmed. Promise? What promise, O Merciful Masters?"

"Just find us Kyrania, human, Sarn commanded. And know that your miserable swinish life depends on it."

Despite Iraj's prediction Safar didn't immediately embrace him and call him milk brother.

They had little in common. One was the son of a potter, the other that of a warrior chieftain. Safar's people were peaceful and generous to strangers. Iraj's were fierce plainsmen who trusted no one. Safar was contemplative by nature. Even as a child he had tended to think before he acted. Iraj, on the other hand, tended to be ruled by the heat of the moment. He was as intelligent as Safar, but impatient with learning. If he couldn't grasp a thing immediately he became bored and disdainful. Safar was willing, on the other hand, to labor long hours until he could command knowledge as easily as Iraj later commanded men.

There was one great similarity which formed the glue that eventually bound them. Both young men thought of themselves as outsidersapart from the others in the village.

Safar's reason was magic.

Iraj's was a blood feud.

Much time passed, however, before either boy learned the nature of the other's mystery.

It was an idyllic spring. The sun was warm, the first crops bountiful and the herds were blessed with many offspring. During those lazy days Gubadan was hard pressed to hammer learning into the thick skulls of his charges. The young people of Kyrania drove their teacher and their families to distraction as mischief and youthful high spirits lured them from their duties.

Safar soon forgot about the troubling vision and Iraj seemed to have forgotten his dream as well, for he did not mention it again. Although Safar didn't consider him the best of friends, Iraj was his constant companion.

As a stranger, and an object of worry for the trouble he might bring from the outside, Iraj was shunned by all but old Gubadan. On the other hand as an obvious prince everyone was warm and sweet as one of Mother Timura's peach pies when in his presence. Royalty rubs off, as the old grannies said, and sometimes in rewarding ways. So no one was willing to say begone to his face. And a few were so bold as to wonder if they could make a good marriage with one of their daughters.

Fleeing these pressures, Iraj went everywhere with Safar. He accompanied him to the clay beds when Safar went to fetch new supplies for his father. Out of boredom he even helped Safar with his most common chores, suffering dirt on his hands and clothing, for instance, while cleaning up after the goats. In repayment, Safar was moved to show Iraj the place near the lake where they could spy on the girls bathing naked in a hidden cove.

The two boys became such a pair they eventually combined their wits at school to bedevil poor Gubadan and divert him from the lesson at hand.

One day that game took a turn Safar found to be most revealing.

Gubadan's subject of the day was once again the starry constellations. It was just after the midday meal and it was all the students could do to keep their eyes open in the overly warm little chamber.

"We can all see how the Lion Cub suckles at his mother's breast during the spring, Gubadan was saying. But in the winter the Cub must hide while the Hunter is lured away by the Lioness. So it follows that if you are born under the sign of the Cub you are affectionate by nature, but in the winter months you are timorous and hesitate to make decisions. Those of us with the Hunter as our major sign tend to be aggressive, fearless, but easily fooled by stealth when we encounter the Lioness."

Bored, Safar raised his stylus for attention.

"Pardon, Master, he said after he was acknowledged. I'm having difficulty understanding."

Gubadan's heavy brows furrowed about his odd-shaped nose. What is it, Safar? he asked suspiciously.

"Why do we call the Wolf Cub timorous when he hides? Safar said. Isn't this actually a sign of wisdom? The Cub has no defense if the Hunter finds him."

Iraj broke in. Safar has a good question, Master, he said. I was also wondering about the Hunter. Why is he a fool to pursue the Lioness? She's in plain sight. I'd chase her myself and ignore the Cub. She'd make a much better skin to drape about my shoulders and stave off the cold."

Gubadan thumped a fat volume on his lectern. The leather cover was etched with stars and planets.

"The answer to both of you, he said, is in this book. It was written by wise men many centuries ago. Stargazers have followed those laws for many years, predicting grand events as well as the future of great men."

"These Stargazers, Safar asked. Are they never wrong?"

Gubadan harumphed. A sure sign Safar had found a weak spot. Well, he said, I can't honestly say there have never been errors. But they were due to faulty interpretation. Not by the laws themselves. All Stargazers are not equally blessed by the gods."

"I suppose, Master, Iraj said, that some might even purposely make mistakes."

Gubadan flushed in anger, gripping his beard. That would be sinful, he growled. Why would a Stargazer commit such a godless act?"

Safar quickly saw Iraj's course. For gold, he said. Men have been known to sin to possess it."

"Not Stargazers, Gubadan said, horrified. They are holy men. Why, one might as well doubt the honesty of Dreamcatchers."

"One might indeed, Master, Iraj said. If enough gold were offered, or bloody threats."

"Master, Safar said, was not Alisarrian's grandsonKing Ogdenbetrayed by a Dreamcatcher?"

Gubadan brightened. The Conqueror Alisarrian was his favorite subject.

"You've made my point exactly, Safar, he said. King Ogden was born under the sign of the Hunter. And the Jester was his lesser sign as well so he was easily taken in by the rogues and charlatans of Zanzair. The demons were at the heart of the conspiracy, of course. Alisarrian, on the other hand, had the Demon Moon for his sign with the Comet ascending. So he was fierce and wise at the same time."