happen again."
Boreas paused to study Giorgini, and the look seemed to read his very soul.
Giorgini had been up here for months and had dealt with Boreas many times before. He met the probe squarely, unafraid.
"You have attended enough of our council meetings to know what I require."
"Sarnak."
"You say that so lightly. Have you any idea what it means to us of Bore's blood?"
"Boreas, I don't feel it the way you and your people do, but I can understand it. And I have a score of my own to settle with him, so I will help as best as I can."
Again there was silence as Boreas turned to regard his harbor, and then glanced at his castle overlooking the city. It was made of stone, cut and polished to such a brightness that at night it seemed to be made of ice, and here in the early morning sun shimmered with the color of blood-red gold.
"Giorgini, before I decided to bring you into my service I investigated you and the other outlanders very thoroughly. I know that you are capable of the same kind of talent as Jartan's farsearch specialist, Kochanski."
Giorgini was impressed. That meant that Boreas knew he had been the radar fire control operator in the old B-29 they had flown back in China, while Kochanski was radar.
"I could direct the guns by radar. I'd track them as they came in, then use the information to train all the guns. Kochanski used long-range radar for navigation and detection. But the jobs were similar, and from what you've told me it seems that what we learned on Earth enhances certain skills here on Haven."
"I freely admit that we have already learned several things from you," Boreas replied, "although your knowledge and talents in other areas need vast improvement."
Giorgini nodded.
"However, it is your potential as a farsearcher that I require. I am assigning a team of my best sorcerers to assist you in one task to the exclusion of all others."
He hesitated as if having trouble saying the word, so Giorgini supplied it.
"Sarnak."
"Yes. He has seemingly vanished from the face of Haven. I have had scores of spies at work for months and they have found no trace of him. It was thought that he might go to his uncle Tor's realm after his death, but nothing has been heard even there."
"Giorgini, Sarnak's death must be at my hands. I must find him before someone else kills him--and I will do anything necessary to achieve it."
Giorgini had his shield raised to the maximum and was still being overcome by the wave of cold and hatred emanating from Boreas.
"My lord. Your aura," he gasped.
Instantly Boreas regained his control. "Find him for me, and you may name your own reward."
Giorgini nodded in an outward show of calm, but underneath he was terrified. God in heaven, he thought, I don't even know how to start. And he shivered again.
"The god, Jartan."
Mark, Ikawa, and their companions came instantly to attention, as did the eight hundred other sorcerers and demigods assembled in the vast planning room.
A pillar of light congealed at the apex of the horseshoe-shaped conference table where the demigods sat, facing the assembly.
The form wavered and coalesced into the brightly glowing image of a man.
"Be seated," Jartan intoned, and the group settled into their straightback chairs.
Already the whole operation bore in Mark's mind a remarkable resemblance to a bombing mission planning session. The walls behind Jartan were lined with charts and maps. The one remarkable new twist, however, was the three dimensional image that appeared to float in the middle of the room.
A green-blue ball several feet across occupied the center of the horseshoe. Upon it, in absolute detail, was the planetary surface of Haven. When he had first entered the room, Mark had gone up to the globe to touch it, but his hand went right through the image.
When he drew close, he was amazed to see that the fine detail was even three dimensional, showing the rise of mountain ranges, cities, rivers, and even the most important roads.
Boreas paused to study Giorgini, and the look seemed to read his very soul.
Giorgini had been up here for months and had dealt with Boreas many times before. He met the probe squarely, unafraid.
"You have attended enough of our council meetings to know what I require."
"Sarnak."
"You say that so lightly. Have you any idea what it means to us of Bore's blood?"
"Boreas, I don't feel it the way you and your people do, but I can understand it. And I have a score of my own to settle with him, so I will help as best as I can."
Again there was silence as Boreas turned to regard his harbor, and then glanced at his castle overlooking the city. It was made of stone, cut and polished to such a brightness that at night it seemed to be made of ice, and here in the early morning sun shimmered with the color of blood-red gold.
"Giorgini, before I decided to bring you into my service I investigated you and the other outlanders very thoroughly. I know that you are capable of the same kind of talent as Jartan's farsearch specialist, Kochanski."
Giorgini was impressed. That meant that Boreas knew he had been the radar fire control operator in the old B-29 they had flown back in China, while Kochanski was radar.
"I could direct the guns by radar. I'd track them as they came in, then use the information to train all the guns. Kochanski used long-range radar for navigation and detection. But the jobs were similar, and from what you've told me it seems that what we learned on Earth enhances certain skills here on Haven."
"I freely admit that we have already learned several things from you," Boreas replied, "although your knowledge and talents in other areas need vast improvement."
Giorgini nodded.
"However, it is your potential as a farsearcher that I require. I am assigning a team of my best sorcerers to assist you in one task to the exclusion of all others."
He hesitated as if having trouble saying the word, so Giorgini supplied it.
"Sarnak."
"Yes. He has seemingly vanished from the face of Haven. I have had scores of spies at work for months and they have found no trace of him. It was thought that he might go to his uncle Tor's realm after his death, but nothing has been heard even there."
"Giorgini, Sarnak's death must be at my hands. I must find him before someone else kills him--and I will do anything necessary to achieve it."
Giorgini had his shield raised to the maximum and was still being overcome by the wave of cold and hatred emanating from Boreas.
"My lord. Your aura," he gasped.
Instantly Boreas regained his control. "Find him for me, and you may name your own reward."
Giorgini nodded in an outward show of calm, but underneath he was terrified. God in heaven, he thought, I don't even know how to start. And he shivered again.
"The god, Jartan."
Mark, Ikawa, and their companions came instantly to attention, as did the eight hundred other sorcerers and demigods assembled in the vast planning room.
A pillar of light congealed at the apex of the horseshoe-shaped conference table where the demigods sat, facing the assembly.
The form wavered and coalesced into the brightly glowing image of a man.
"Be seated," Jartan intoned, and the group settled into their straightback chairs.
Already the whole operation bore in Mark's mind a remarkable resemblance to a bombing mission planning session. The walls behind Jartan were lined with charts and maps. The one remarkable new twist, however, was the three dimensional image that appeared to float in the middle of the room.
A green-blue ball several feet across occupied the center of the horseshoe. Upon it, in absolute detail, was the planetary surface of Haven. When he had first entered the room, Mark had gone up to the globe to touch it, but his hand went right through the image.
When he drew close, he was amazed to see that the fine detail was even three dimensional, showing the rise of mountain ranges, cities, rivers, and even the most important roads.
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