The walls of Hirstel stood before them, high, shining a pale gold beneath the cloudless skies. “What do I call you, d?” asked the god Xido.

  “Im,” came the response. “Im of Hirstel.” He gazed toward the city. Not of Hirstel much longer.

  “I’m no divinity of your people,” said Xido. “Do they even worship gods anymore? I haven’t looked in here for some time.”

  “There is a shrine to the Ancient Urathu,” the boy replied. “Not much else.”

  The god nodded. “And he wasn’t even a god, only a mighty sorcerer who ruled over you — or those like you — in another world. It was his death that sent some of you scurrying for cover here.”

  “Do some of us remain there, um, Xido?”

  “They do, scattered across many nds. Some are sorcerers, some have no talent, and many are very long lived. That’s a mark of your people.” He gnced at the boy. “That along with your odd combination of dark skin and blond hair.” In that Im had never seen any without that combination until Xido showed up, he did not think it odd at all.

  “Incidentally, your — Urathu did you call him? — your Urathu was pretty much the ancestor of everyone with wizardly powers in that world. You included, Master Im.” Xido ughed. “Probably an ancestor of everyone, powers or not. He managed to live an extraordinarily long time and father far more children than any other mortal I’ve known.”

  “But he died,” came Qu’orthseth’s cavernous groan of a voice.

  “As do all things,” mused Xido. “Me too, I suspect. Let’s go in.”

  The gates of Hirstel rarely opened. Why would they when nothing but a waste of sand y about the city? “You’d best take us over, Akorzef,” spoke Xido.

  “I have not been named so in many centuries, lord,” replied the demon, “and it is no closer to my true name than is Qu’orthseth.”

  “I could speak that true name but there is no point, is there? And it might hurt young Im’s ears. Akorzef is what my own worshipers would call you but if you don’t like it, there is always Cahorsus.”

  Ah, I see you recognize that name. So do our own people refer to the demon — if we must.

  “I like that one. It sounds almost, well, godly,” observed Im.

  “Oh, the folk who call our red friend that consider it to be one of the most horrible of all fiends.”

  “It’s a bum rap,” cimed Qu’orthseth. “I’m not a bad guy.” It picked both up and carried them to the top of the walls. A few citizens who loitered there eyed them without great curiosity.

  “Then why were you in prison?” wondered the boy.

  “Tax evasion.” Xido made a sound that implied considerable skepticism. “Well, okay, I may have offed the tax collector too, um, and absconded with the taxes it’d already collected.” A deep rumbling ugh came from somewhere inside that smooth body. “But I’m only an ordinary working criminal, friends, no archfiend.”

  “I know this is true,” added Xido. “Qu’orthseth is just the sort a sorcerer is likely to call when he needs some hired muscle.” He looked out over the city, one hand shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. “We might as well go over to the ruins of Tindeval’s tower.”

  The demon obligingly deposited them by the pile of broken stones; fragments of the shattered Demons of Droga were scattered across the street. A slightly portly man in a white robe who had been surveying the rubble now turned to them. A great curling beard, gone gray down the center, y on his chest.

  “I think you know me, Prince Piras,” spoke Xido. The sorcerer stared at him a moment, then nodded.

  “I do indeed.” His eyes went to the book, but he said nothing of it.

  “This I return to you. You need it more than any other.” The god handed him the grimoire. “You can get that spire of yours standing again in no time.”

  The sorcerer bowed and turned his eyes to Qu’orthseth. “The room you were set to guard no longer exists. How can you still be in this world?”

  “Because I have not yet sin the st intruder, your highness.” It gestured toward Im. “So long as he lives I remain tied here by my geas.”

  Piras Tindeval considered the boy, his face revealing none of his thoughts. “He is under my protection,” stated Xido.

  The sorcerer nodded his balding head, and broke into a smile. “I have no malice toward you, young sir. Indeed, I would ask you to take a pce as one of my apprentices. No Prince of Hirstel can st forever and our people will need one with power to lead them when I go.”

  Im was considering this astonishing offer when Xido broke in. “You should take your people out of here. This world may drive them mad in time.”

  Tindeval only shrugged. “We are secure here.”

  “Until it becomes your grave. Think well on it, Prince of Hirstel. You know where the gates lie should you decide to use them.”

  “But where might they lead us? No, Lord Xido, we can go neither forward nor back.”

  “I know the ways.” Xido considered this. “Some of them. I could show you them — even back to the world of your ancestors, should you wish.”

  “It is safe?” asked Tindeval. “We fled from those who hated us, it is told.”

  “As safe as anywhere else, now. Ah, my Prince of Hirstel, I can see you are not ready.” Xido managed to look simultaneously sad and amused. “Call to me if you decide to go someday.” He turned to Im. “You still intend to leave, don’t you?”

  Remain and possibly rule? The thought tempted Im, most certainly. But still, it was one city in a world he now knew to be empty. Then his eyes came to rest on Qu’orthseth. “As long as I stay here, our red friend is obliged to murder me,” he noted. “Maybe we can break that geas by going through these gates of yours.”

  “’Tis possible,” admitted Piras, “and perhaps your only chance. I can not erase that obligation I pced on the demon.”

  Qu’orthseth’s ugh rumbled. “Which is good, for I would be sent back to prison if you could.”

  “Then we go,” said Xido. “I know this world is riddled with portals, coming and going from a multitude of worlds. That is one reason magic works so well here.” He spoke then directly to Tindeval. “And why it is dangerous to your minds.”

  “Dangerous otherwise, as well,” replied the sorcerer. “Things do come out of them at times. We have walls and wards against those.”

  He turned to the ruins of his tower. “No hurry on this, though I need find a means of protecting the book again. But the portals — only one lies within the walls, in the temple of Urathu. That is the way that brought us here.”

  “And can not take you back, as I am sure you know,” commented Xido.

  The Prince-Sorcerer admitted this was so. “We can not even enter it.”

  Xido nodded. “The other end y close by a volcano and was destroyed. Or buried I should say. We must find another.” He started to ugh. “Why I do this, I know not! I could just pop back to my home and leave you all reasonably happy in this one. But the boy,” the deity said, turning to Im, “has a destiny, I think, and a destiny mixed up with my own, I fear!”

  “The gods see things others can not,” rumbled Qu’orthseth. “The Crocodile is wise.” A rumbling ugh. “Or cunning.”

  Yes, Crocodile. You do remember the demon mentioning another form, don’t you?

  “I also fear,” continued Xido, “that a direct way, such as brought you here, will not be found, at least not anywhere near. But some way, roundabout though it may be, will get you to the home of your ancestors.” The dark god thought on this a moment and added, “It may or may not be exactly the one where your people originated. It will be close enough.”

  “There are others like it?” asked Im.

  “There are infinite others, each varying in the tiniest of details.” Xido told him. “In potential, anyway. As to whether they truly exist, who can say? They might not until we enter them. Consider this your first lesson in a different sort of sorcery than you learned here.

  “It is not so easy to summon up demons in most worlds. You will need to learn to do more things for yourself.” The god looked about him, at the city of Hirstel, now falling into night, and then to its ruler. “I can understand why you and your people would be loath to leave.”

  “None need leave right now,” spoke Piras Tindeval. “The stars are creeping into the heavens and it is time for a meal and rest. Come along to my house.”

  “I would be most honored, sir,” replied Xido.