The Crystal Sorcerers Read Free Page A

upward, like a diver going off a board. He hovered for a moment above the throne and then jackknifed straight down. Snapping his shielding up to ease the buffeting of the wind on his face, he raced down the face of the cloud.
    Ikawa had regained some semblance of stability, and as Mark raced past, the Japanese officer swung in alongside his comrade.
    Below the base of the cloud the two leveled out and, riding the currents of air, swung in behind their lord, forming a protective cover to his rear. Though there was no war, they were still flying into a conquered territory and a moment of inattention could still result in tragedy.
    The ground below was dotted with farmsteads and villages, but as the Eastern Marches drew closer the settled region finally gave way to wild tracks of forest. For three thousand years this had been the frontier between two rival powers, subject to raid and counterstrike, and only the border wardens and lords of the marches had stayed in this region, their settlements fortified positions set atop high peaked hills.
    As the mountains rose below them, the three started to curve back skyward, passing again through the clouds which were billowing upward to form the first thunderheads of an afternoon storm.
    The sight of the clouds made Mark think again of his lover. She was a demigod in her own right, the daughter of Jartan. Storm had in her powers the ability to create her own thunderstorms, the darkened sky her plaything for amusement or, as he had once witnessed, a terrifying power of war. It was, after all, in a storm cloud that he had first met her, and he smiled at the memory.
    As they punched through the clouds, the towering peaks of the Samastu loomed ahead. Allic led the way through a narrow past, the sheer rock walls of the mountains rising several thousand feet above them on either side. The air was cold and crisp, the sun illuminating the peaks with a golden light that rendered them in stark contrast against the mountain clouds.
    Turning and weaving, the party continued on up into the mountain fastness.
    "This is Red Leader to Gold Leader control," Mark announced through his communications crystal.
    "Gold Leader to Red, go ahead please."
    "Party of three approaching through sector five."
    There was a pause on the other end.
    "We have you in sight. Identification code please."
    "Green, green, white," Mark announced.
    One of the things Allic's people had picked up from Mark was the method of air control and identification codes he had learned in the Army Air Corps. He had designed the air approach systems into Allic's realm and Sarnak's territory, and if a flyer did not follow certain corridors, and have the right codes, it would trigger an instant scramble.
    "You are cleared for approach through air corridor five," the controller responded, and the crystal fell silent.
    Mark was pleased with the crispness of the operation, and Allic looked back at him approvingly. It had been difficult to convince Allic that he should never announce his presence or even speak via crystals when in the air, lest he tip some unwanted listener off. But since his injury in battle he had, at least for now, seemed a little more cautious.
    Coming down out of the high pass, the ground dropped away to a broad plateau, broken occasionally by hills and river valleys. For a nation that had been at war there was little sign here that a conflict had ever been fought. But then, Mark reflected, there wouldn't be: Almost all the combat had taken place in Allic's realm.
    The towns and cities were well ordered, in an almost military precision of squared fields and arrow-straight roads. If anything was lacking, it was the green lushness of Allic's kingdom, and that vague indefinable spirit that could instantly tell someone that the people were truly happy and contented with their life.
    Swinging low for a closer look, Allic soared over his new territories.
    Mark felt slightly nervous about this. In Allic's own realm the sight of