The word went out quietly, furtively, across the continent.  The God of Magic would return!  The God of Magic had sent his Word and his Disciple to give power to the Black Devils, the power that would enable them to bring their god to life.  Pilgrimages had begun from the farthest reaches of Lanoir to the cold desolation of the Disputed Area.  Thousands of Black Devils were leaving their towns and villages and heading for a session with the Disciple.  When the moon was full the meeting would commence and the Disciple would deliver his instructions.  Soon the world would be set right and the God of Magic would reign forever. 

    Dalgar was excited.  Finally, things would be as they should have been.  Had the Black Devils not been lax, the god would not have abandoned them.  Now they were being given a second chance and he was not going to disappoint the god again. Dalgar was prepared to give his life for the return of the God of Magic and he knew the other Black Devils would as well.  Soon now, the entire world would be under the power of the God of Magic.  The great Disciple, Mordac, had said so.

    Dalgar saw streams of men and women approaching the knoll where Mordac would speak.  He pushed his way to the very front of the assembling crowd and settled his long, lanky frame on a small section of grass.  He removed a purple ribbon from his sack and tied his long, black hair behind his head.  The short young woman next to him was flexing her legs as if she had been in the same position for some time.  She had beautiful long, flowing, auburn hair that complemented her pale skin.  Dalgar offered her an apple from his sack.  “I guess you’ve been here quite a while.”

    The girl looked over at him.  “Yes, three days now.  I wanted to get a good spot but you seemed to have done as well by arriving today.”  She took the apple and bit into it, surveying her neighbor.  His bronze skin was not likely to mark him as Cordonian or even Targan.  “You must be Sordoan.  Was the trip difficult for you?”

    “Yes, I’m Sordoan, and no, the trip was quite pleasant.  I’m Dalgar from Dubar.  It’s a small town on the outskirts of the Great Sordoan Desert.  What about you?”

    “I’m Aurora from Paso in Cordonia.  The trip was difficult because we were warned to avoid the major roads and had to use forest trails.  Still it was fun and quite an adventure.  I passed right through the area where they said our god chose to leave this world.  I hope the Disciple can really bring him back.”

    “I don’t think the Disciple will bring him back.  I think we must all bring him back.  It’s supposed be the reason for this meeting.  We are to be given a second chance to please Sarac.  If he is pleased he will return and guide us, if not we shall all perish.  I wanted to be up front so that I can meet Mordac.  I wish to be one of Mordac’s chosen.  It is said that whomever does the most to bring about Sarac’s return will get to join his Inner Circle.”

    “Very aggressive, Dalgar, but I thought that Sarac’s Inner Circle left with him.”

    “That is true, Aurora, but I have heard that there will be room for new members to join.  I will be one of them.  You should consider this as well.  To be one of Sarac’s Inner Circle is to be blessed beyond compare.”

    “If that is so, there will be many that wish to join.  What makes you think that you will be chosen, Dalgar?”

    “Because, Aurora, I will do anything to accomplish my goal.  Many around us are weak and only part-time believers.  They wish to believe and be honored as long as they don’t have to do anything that might cause them grief.  I have no such inhibitions.   I am prepared to do what I must to join with Sarac.”

    “As shall I, Dalgar.  You will have competition in reaching the Inner Circle.”

    “Perhaps, if your devotion is as strong as you pretend, but it does not have to be a competition.  We can help each other gain in Mordac’s eyes.  We may make a good team.  Soon we shall see, for here comes Mordac now.”

    Mordac strode up the hillside, his long, black robe fluttering in the breeze.  His curly brown hair was no longer hidden by his black cap and he carried a large book.  He stood at the top of the knoll and raised his free arm.  The crowd quieted and everyone awaited Mordac’s words.

    Mordac began.  “Followers of Sarac, hear me now.  I am Mordac, the Disciple of the great God of Magic.  Sarac has spoken to me and he is angry.  The Black Devils have failed him.  They have failed in their faith and they have failed in their deeds.  Two years ago he called upon the faithful and found them lacking.  He decided to leave this world and give you time to reflect upon your faithlessness.  That time for reflection has ended.  Sarac must now choose whether to return and rule this world or destroy it and take his faithful few to another world.”

    Mordac paused to survey the crowd.  There was over a thousand Black Devils here, more than enough to accomplish his goal.  If he could sway this crowd to his will, Mordac could bring Sarac back.  “The time of waiting is over and the time of testing shall begin.  For those of you who pass the test, eternal life and power are waiting.  For those that fail the test, a slow lingering death will be your only reward.  The pain of that death will last for hundreds of years and your cries for an end to it will be met with more pain.  You will have one chance to redeem yourself.  Are you ready for this time of testing?”

    The crowd leapt to their feet and shouted acceptance of the challenge.  Mordac allowed them to continue shouting and finally raised his free hand.  When the crowd became quiet, Mordac continued.  “You speak loudly, but this challenge will require more than words, it will require great deeds.  Sarac has disclosed to me his requirements for returning to this world.” 

    Mordac raised the large book he was carrying into the air and held it up for all to see.  “Sarac has told me that the answer to his return is in a book.  He did not tell me which book contains the answer.  How are we to find this answer?  How are we to guarantee that Sarac is pleased enough to return to us?”

    One man stood and shouted, “We must read.  Everyone must read.”

    Another stood and questioned, “How will we know when we have read the right book?”

Murmurs ran through the crowd as followers debated the solution to Mordac’s challenge. Dalgar pondered Mordac’s words and sought the solution that would bring attention to himself.

    Dalgar grabbed Aurora’s hand and stood, bringing her to her feet.  “We must own all of the books.  We shall collect every book ever written and bring them here.”

    Those around Dalgar laughed and shouted.  They called him crazy and told him to sit down, but Mordac motioned for the boy to come to him.  Dalgar led Aurora to Mordac.  Mordac stared at the young man and his companion and then surveyed the crowd.  He turned to Dalgar and loudly asked, “An admirable suggestion, but the owners of the books will not want to lose them.  How do you plan to get all of these books?”

    Dalgar turned to Mordac and said, “We will take them, and all who get in the way of Sarac’s return must die.  We shall not allow fools to have books for their own pleasure, when we need them for Sarac’s return.”

    “And are you two prepared to kill priests and kings to get these books?”

    Aurora answered without hesitation.  “Yes, Disciple, we are prepared.  Sarac will return and we will have not let him down.”

    Mordac laid his book on the ground and stood between the two Black Devils.  He put a hand on each of their shoulders and addressed his audience.  “This is the spirit that Sarac is looking for.”

    An old woman in the audience stood and protested.  “We cannot just go around killing priests.  We will be hunted down and killed.  The armies of all the nations will seek to eliminate us.”

    Mordac turned and retrieved his book.  “Well, young devotees, what is your answer to this woman’s questions?”

     Dalgar looked at Aurora and smiled.  Together they turned to face the old woman and each of them unleashed a fireball.  The old woman disappeared in a burst of flame, her smoldering flesh all that remained of the objection.  The people around the old woman scurried away from the devastation. Dalgar addressed the crowd.  “We must not let anything stand in our way this time.  This is our only chance to regain Sarac.  Can any of you really refuse to do that which is necessary?”

    Mordac smiled.  These two will make a worthy addition to his staff.  There were no further complaints from the crowd.  “There is more to what Sarac has said.  No Black Devil may owe allegiance to any country.  We must cause strife between nations, pit country against country.  In this manner we will allow each country to lessen its army strength by fighting with its neighbors.”

    The young magicians’ demonstration had been perfect.  Had Mordac flamed the old woman, there might have been grumbling.  Now Mordac knew he had the crowd’s participation.  “Well, we need to get started.  Let us head to the castle below.  Each Black Devil will be assigned a duty to perform.  You must each issue an oath of allegiance before leaving.  Any who try to leave without uttering the oath will be killed.  Not one of you can be allowed to jeopardize the return of Sarac.”  Mordac signaled for the two young magicians to follow him.  “Come along.  I have special plans for the two of you.”

    Egam, the magician, stood in Oscar’s office admiring the paintings adorning the walls.  He appreciated the artist’s skill in capturing landscapes and Cordonian life.  Obviously, Oscar appreciated it, as well.  “Well, Duke Dalek, you have a keen eye for art it seems.”

    “Thank you, Egam, but please drop the formalities.  Oscar is fine.  We have no audience and I’d like to consider you a close friend.  What brings you to the city of Dalek?”

    “You are a friend, Oscar, and it is another friend who brings me here.  I wish to journey to a certain island and visit a fine young woman whom you are acquainted with.”

    “You want passage to Atar’s Cove, then.  There is a ship leaving for Kantor tomorrow.  In fact, I will be aboard myself.  I have a strong desire to add to my art collection.  It has been a long time since I’ve seen Jenneva.  It must be two years since she received the last of the building materials for her home.  I would love to spend some time with her.  Why don’t you join me for a shopping trip to Kantor and we can both be let off at Atar’s Cove on the return voyage?”

    “My trip will be one way, Oscar, but I would like a chance to see Kantor again.  What is the name of the artist who has captured your fancy?”

    “John Secor,” responded Oscar.  “He’s a displaced Targan living in Kantor.  His father moved there many years ago as an Ambassador or something and John chose to stay.  He is the most talented artist I have seen, but I admit that his art is not the only thing about John that has captured my fancy.  He has a most beautiful daughter that I wish to steal.  I think Callie has done more for John’s sales than his abundant skill.”

    Egam looked again at Oscar’s collection of paintings and laughed.  “I had heard that money cannot buy love, but I think I know a young man who enjoys standing tradition on its ear.”

    “Actually, I think my money well spent on John’s art and my relationship with Callie would last without a purchase.  Did you know that John’s pictures hang in the finest galleries in Cordonia?  Even the Presidential Palace is loaded with them.”

    “That I can believe, Oscar.  These paintings are exquisite.  Perhaps I will bring Jenneva one to brighten her home.  Are your intentions serious in regards to this woman?”

    “Egam, I know that a secret is safe with you.  I plan to ask for her hand this trip.  I would love for Jenneva to meet her and I would also like to invite her to the wedding.”

    “Well, it’s settled then.  I must join you for your trip to Kantor and then to Atar’s Cove.”

    “Yes,” said Oscar.  “I will have to change captains though.  Raymond is the only one who knows of Atar’s Cove, so he will have to take the ship tomorrow.”

    The springtime voyage was pleasant.  The seas were smooth and the Targan Current was particularly strong.  The Dalek Shipping Company had its own dock in Kantor and Captain Raymond Hill had the ship dockside in short order.  A tall, beautiful woman was waiting on the dock.  “Oscar, you’re a day early.  Father will be so pleased.  I saw your dockhands running through the plaza and knew you were here.”

    Oscar and Egam disembarked and Oscar introduced Callie Secor to Egam.  They proceeded to the plaza where John had a small studio.  The plaza’s aroma of beef, spices and leather gave way to smell of paint and thinners as they entered the studio.  John was a sturdy man and resembled a sailor more than an artist.  His thick, hairy arms were just hanging a picture on the wall as they entered.  John was surprised to see Oscar and nearly dropped the painting he was hanging.  “Oscar, you old sea dog, you should keep to your schedules or you’ll cost me an embarrassment,” he laughed.  “That painting is our President Suarez and I’m due to present it tonight.  Ah, I’m glad to see you early, though.  Callie, see if you can grab a courier in the plaza, I want to send a message to the Palace.  Come on in, Oscar, and introduce your friend.  I have tea on in the back.”

    The three men went into the back of the studio and Oscar introduced Egam as an old friend and associate.  John hurriedly scribbled a note and handed it to Callie who had caught the attention of a courier.  “I hope you won’t mind having dinner with the President this evening.  As I said, I have to deliver this portrait and he has invited Callie and myself to dine with him.  I’ve asked him to include Duke Dalek and his associate and I’m sure he’ll agree.  Your visits have become more frequent and yet the other member of my family feels that you are absent too often.  Why don’t you take a stroll with Callie and I’ll get to know Egam better.”

    Oscar went into the studio gallery where Callie was just dismissing the courier.  “So, I’m gone too often, am I?” he smirked.

    “Certainly, you are!”  Callie embraced Oscar and dragged him into the plaza.  “Come on, let’s go for a walk.  I imagine that father is getting you invited to the Palace this evening.  I’m sure the President will want to meet the man who is buying all of my father’s art.  You’re making his works a rarity in Kantor.”

    “Your father creates things of beauty.  His painting is not bad, either,” Oscar chuckled.

    “Oh, you sailors are all alike,” she retorted.  “You probably have a woman in every port.”

    Oscar stopped walking and held Callie.  “Callie, don’t even joke like that.  I love only you.  As a matter of fact, I have something very important to discuss with you.  It’s, well, I really want to tell you, I mean . . .  I want to know if . . . ”

    Callie laughed.  “This is Oscar Dalek, the man who could sell sand to the Sordoans?”  Her face went into a mock expression of seriousness.  “Yes, Duke Dalek, the terms of this contract look fairly reasonable. I think I could find it possible to consider doing business with your firm.”  Oscar was turning red and sporting a hurt look upon his face and Callie relented.  “Of course I’ll marry you, Oscar, and if you give me a kiss I won’t even make you finish asking.”

    Oscar laughed and hugged Callie so hard he lifted her off her feet.  “There’s still your father, Callie.”

    Callie giggled.  “Father is perhaps the most impatient of all.  I believe he may have already spoken to the President about performing the service.”

    They hurried back to the studio to spread the good news.  John opened a bottle of wine to toast the young couple and a courier arrived with the President’s response -- four were expected for dinner.

    The Presidential Palace was a large, white stone mansion on a spreading estate.  An ornate carriage had been dispatched to pick up the dinner guests.  Callie looked stunning in a lovely, yellow gown with her long, brown hair sporting a matching yellow ribbon.  Oscar spent the entire ride to the Palace staring at her.

    President Suarez and his wife were in a receiving parlor when the party arrived.  John made the introductions and presented his painting.  The President had the painting hung over the fireplace.  Oscar marveled at the incredible likeness of the painting to the actual President.  The black, wavy hair was parted in exactly the same spot.  The long black mustache ended precisely where it should.  The green eyes were so lifelike that he felt like the portrait was actually looking at him.  Oscar knew that the painting was done from memory.  The President may have sat for a sketch, but he certainly did not have the time to sit for the entire painting.  John seemed to have the ability to recall vivid images that he had seen previously.

    The dinner was very informal and Oscar was impressed with the President’s ability to keep the conversation moving.  Oscar’s magic ring let him know that the President was prone to exaggeration.  The stories he told were true enough, but the numbers quoted or reactions to events were stretched in proportion to reality.  John happily announced the engagement of Oscar and Callie and the President offered a toast.

    “You shall have the congratulations of the entire nation,” said President Suarez.  “Does this mean that Kantor is to become the home of Duke Dalek of Targa?”

    “I do intend to have a fine home built here in Kantor,” answered Oscar.  “I will, of course, still maintain my homes in Dalek and Bordon.  I imagine Callie and I will spend time in each depending on the needs of my business.  I hope that John will live in our Kantor home and use it as his own.”

    “I offer whatever help the Republic of Cordonia can give in finding a site for your home, Oscar.  The Secor family is fondly thought of here and I am happy to add your name to the list of their members.  When will the wedding be?”

    “The wedding will have to wait at least two weeks.  I would never be forgiven if we married without my mother here as a witness.  Callie and I will leave tomorrow by ship for Dalek.  Hopefully, we shall return with Duke Whitley and my mother on the return voyage.  John told me that you would be gracious enough to perform the service.  Would your schedule permit a small wedding in two weeks time?”

    “If not,” President Suarez laughed, “I’ll change my schedule.  I can’t promise a small celebration, though.  John Secor is a bit of a celebrity here in Kantor and the marriage of his daughter will bring many requests for admittance.”

    The rest of the dinner was spent in pleasant small talk and soon it was time to leave.  They returned to John’s studio and Callie went off to pack a travel bag.  Egam roamed the studio looking for a suitable painting for Jenneva.  He finally settled on a picture of Kantor’s harbor from the edge of the marketplace.  The picture sported one of Dalek’s ships approaching the dock.  When Egam went to pay John for the picture, John waved him away.

    “No, Egam,” John stated, “Oscar has already made me a very wealthy man.  Please take it with my compliments.  I cannot afford to give my paintings to Oscar for he is my largest customer.  I can, however, give one to his friend and my friend too.”

    The next morning, John escorted his daughter to the ship and waved goodbye.  The weather was pleasant and everyone spent the days on deck.  Egam spent a lot of time with Callie and got to know her well.

    Far to the east in the town of Paso, three black clad figures hid in the bushes not far from the wall of the Temple of Dori, goddess of soil.  The night was moonless and the townspeople were sleeping.  One of the black clad figures detached from the shadows and leapt at the wall.  He hoisted himself to the top with a cat-like grace and peered into the courtyard below.  He signaled for the others to follow and soundlessly jumped into the courtyard.  The only light visible was from a candle near a second story window. 

    The first figure extracted a long, thin piece of metal from his clothing and went to work on the rear door of the temple.  The board holding the door shut hit the floor with a loud thud and the figures froze.  Hurried footsteps could be heard approaching the door from the inside and the black figures melded with the shadows.  An elderly priest flung the door open.  He looked around the courtyard in confusion.  He stepped through the doorway for a better look and one of the shadows stepped forward and seized him from behind, slicing his throat with a small, sharpened dagger.  The shadow propped the body against the wall and crept into the temple.  Down the corridor was an open doorway with candlelight flickering patterns on the floor of the hallway.  The shadows crept down the hall and peered into the room.  The room was deserted and the black figures stealthily approached the staircase.

    Aurora knew that the temple’s acolytes lived in a building alongside the temple.  There should have been no one in the temple except a priest to guard the library.  The other priest must have had some unfinished work to be in the temple at night.  She followed Dalgar and the other Black Devil up the stairs.  The three figures stood in an alcove outside the doorway to the library, barely breathing.

    Aurora stripped off her garments, knocked on the door and stepped back five paces.  The priest opened the door and peered into the hall.  The candlelight flickered off Aurora’s pale, naked skin and the priest was speechless and confused.  He took a couple of steps forward and shook his head as if trying to clear his vision.  Dalgar wasted no time.  He stepped out of the alcove and looped a thin metal wire around the priest’s neck.  He viciously tightened the wire and the priest frantically tried to claw at the restriction around his throat.  In just moments the priest’s struggles ceased and Dalgar lowered the body to the floor.  Aurora hastily dressed and dragged the body into the library.

    The library was small and the three Black Devils would have no problem emptying it long before morning.  They carried the books downstairs and out the rear gate of the temple’s courtyard.  Through the bushes they had a cart waiting in a clearing.  It took many trips to completely strip the library and Dalgar made a mental note to have more Black Devils available for the larger libraries.

    Dalgar dragged the first priest’s body into the room he had been working in.  He searched the room for more books.  Aurora’s knowledge of the layout of this temple was very helpful in assuring the success of the raid.  He pondered how they could get information on other temples while he closed the back door to the building.

    He secured the gate to the courtyard and scampered over the wall.  When he arrived at the cart, Aurora and the other Black Devil were covering the books with the hay that was originally in the wagon.  He jumped up on the wagon and started the horses moving.