Kamahl and Chainer stood before the First, in the public reception hall of the manor. The First was dressed formally, with full robes and headdress, and he sat on a tall throne surrounded by his hand and skull attendants. Skellum stood beaming between the First and the fighters with the Master of the Games behind him.
"Twelve wins in a row," the First said. "Quite impressive."
"Thank you, Pater." Chainer said. He nudged Kamahl.
"Right. Thanks." The barbarian was clearly uncomfortable in such a fine room. He looked longingly at the door.
"But now, I'm afraid, the winning streak must end." "Of course, Pater." "What?"
Skellum and Chainer glanced at Kamahl. The barbarian was genuinely confused, on the point of becoming angry.
"It's all for the best," the Master of the Games said. "We're going to put you two up against another crusat squad from the Order. They'll win, become bolder, and start sending more teams into Cabal City. People are nervous with all the changes in leadership around here. They like seeing simple fights they can understand and root for. A barbarian and a Cabalist going up against toy soldiers, over and over again. You win some, they win some. It's familiar to crowds. Comfortable."
"I agree," Kamahl said, "but I don't lose on purpose."
"We're the house team," Chainer spoke quickly to fill in the uncomfortable silence. "And the house never loses. Not in the long run."
Kamahl made a rude noise. "That's dreck. If you don't win, you lose. Period."
"Would it help," the First said calmly, "to think of this as a strategic withdrawal? You'd be letting the Order have a small victory, so that you can secure a larger one later?"
Kamahl shook his head. "I don't fight to lose. I don't think I know how."
The First steepled his fingers. "Not even if the larger victory we're waiting for includes the Mirari?"
Chainer and Kamahl both perked up at the mention of the arti-fact's name. The Mirari hadn't been offered as a prize since Fulla brought it back from Mer.
"You're planning another Mirari games, Pater?"
"Yes, my child. And soon."
"But we need the right kind of build-up," the Master of the Games broke in. "The Order has to feel there's a chance of them winning. If they take down our best two-man team, they'll be sure to come back."
Kamahl shook his head again. "No deal." Chainer shot Skellum an agonized look, but Skellum could only look back with sympathy.
"Forgive us, honored guest," said the Master of the Games, "but the team of Kamahl and Chainer is going to lose their next bout. It has been arranged."
"Then the team of Kamahl and Chainer will not compete." Kamahl glanced at Chainer, then spoke to the First. "You have been an excellent host, Cabal First, but I am from a different tradition. I'm here to fight. I'm here to win the Mirari with strength, speed, and skill. When you decide to offer it up, I will be ready to work for it. But until then, count me out of these games you play to increase the audience and drive up the odds."
The Master of the Games started to speak, but the First interrupted. "I am truly sorry you feel that way."
"As am I. I mean no offense, but I was raised and trained never to do less than my best."
"You are a barbarian of principles," the First said. "But if you are not going to support our agenda for the next games, I'm going to have to ask you to excuse yourself. We have Cabal business to discuss."
Kamahl nodded, glanced at Chainer, and then stomped out, his heavy boots echoing down the hall with each step.
When the footsteps had gone, Chainer said, "Forgive him, Pater." "There is nothing to forgive. He is set in his ways, and we must find someone else to fight in his place. I only regret that we won't be able to rely on him as an ally." "He is still our ally, Pater. He just-"
"Chainer," Skellum interrupted. "We're not here to discuss your unwilling partner."
Chainer's face fell. "No, Master."
"Master of the Games," the First said. "Can Chainer alone deliver the result we're seeking?" "Yes, Pater."
"Master Skellum. Is your pupil ready to provide that result? And will he survive it?"
"Yes, Pater." Chainer and Skellum spoke together. "Nothing fancy," the Master of the Games told Chainer. "Just get in there and roll over. It doesn't need to be a good fight, it just needs to be an Order victory."
"Understood," Chainer said.
"Master of the Games, you are dismissed."
"Thank you, Pater." She slipped quickly out of the room.
Chainer stood nervously before the First. Skellum fiddled with his hat beneath his arm. The First watched them both through steepled fingers.
"You have something to add, Master Skellum?"
Skellum cleared his throat. "I do, Pater. Chainer has made excellent progress as a caster. There is only one more thing I can teach him, one more lesson before he graduates from my academy."
Chainer fought off a gulp of surprise. This was news to him.
"This would be the dementist's shikar you've mentioned?"
Skellum began to walk back and forth, between Chainer and the First. "Yes, Pater. It is a rite of passage. A spiritual journey combined with a physical trial." He pulled himself up to his full height and spoke with as much dignity as he could muster. "It is something that separates dementists from mere casters."
"I am familiar with the ritual. Yours was a great success, if I'm not mistaken."
Skellum beamed. "Thank you, Pater."
"And you believe your student is ready for this trial."
"I do, Pater. As his mentor, I would want to accompany him. For the last time, of course. When we return from shikar, there will be nothing left for me to teach him."
"How long does it take?"
"Two days to walk to the site. Three days of trial. Two days to return."
The First considered. "Very well. As soon as Chainer discharges his obligation with the Order, you and he will take a leave of absence from the pits. You will experience shikar."
"Thank you, Pater."
"Thank you, Master," Chainer whispered. Skellum glared at him, but winked also.
"There is one final thing," the First said, "concerning the Mirari. Doubtless by now you are both aware that my predictions came true. The Mirari led to major upheavals in both the Order and Mer, and then it came back to us. I made one error, however. I expected the past few months to thin the field, as it were, but just the opposite is true. More and more people are following its trail, which will lead them here. This is both good and bad for the Cabal. Even as we speak, the crusat death squads are reforming in an effort to drive us out of our strongholds. Cabal City, Aphetto… even our minor pits in no-name villages are being targeted. They make the same old claims. We corrupt the innocent, mock the law, and generally impede the Order's righteous progress.
"The era of coexistence is over. When you return from shikar, you both will assist me in neutralizing the crusat threat." "With pleasure, Pater."
Skellum whispered teasingly to Chainer, "A dementist at last." "Ambassador Laquatus also continues to seek the Mirari. Today he contacted one of the crusat officers to sound him out for an alliance against us. It would be best if we could fix his attention elsewhere while we sort out the Order problem ourselves." "We could postpone shikar, Pater."
"No, Skellum. Chainer's apprenticeship is over. It's time we made that official."
"You have something in mind, Pater?"
"I do. Since Laquatus will not stop complicating the situation until he gets a crack at the Mirari, I will announce the next games immediately. They will be held in three month's time, to coincide with the anniversary of the founding of Cabal City. The Mirari will be the grand prize, awarded to the strongest fighter in the pits. Laquatus is currently in need of a thrall. Apparently his amphibian was killed along with Aboshan. With the games scheduled, he will redouble his efforts to find a replacement thrall. This alone would not be enough to occupy a busy mind like Laquatus's, but this on top of… other circumstances I have yet to arrange… it will more than suffice.
"Chainer, I want you to meet with the ambassador to determine what sort of creature he wants. Promise him anything, but do nothing without my permission. In three days you and Skellum will begin the shikar. We will ask Laquatus to wait until you return before you create this new thrall for him."
"Laquatus will have more and better options for his thrall after Chainer experiences shikar," Skellum said.
"So much the better. Chainer. You have been a valued and trusted servant of the Cabal. Are you ready to be rewarded and carry our cause even further?"
"I am, Pater."
"Outstanding."
The First waved his hand dismissively. "The Cabal is everywhere," he said, "and so are my thoughts. You may leave me now to my meditation, my children."
The First watched Skellum and Chainer go through dry, milky eyes. Before they were even out of the room, his thoughts folded in on themselves as he dissected each infinitesimal bit of information.
Apart from Kamahl's refusal, everything was right where the First wanted it. The barbarian was absolutely devastating in combat and always made for a good show. He was also useful as an influence on Chainer. Skellum was in danger of spoiling the boy, blunting his killer instinct. Kamahl encouraged that rough, pragmatic side of Chainer, qualities he was going to need over the next three months.
The First came back to himself. Yes, the longer he considered it, the more sure he became. Skellum should stand aside and let Kamahl complete Chainer's training. With his mentor at his side, Chainer would simply become another Skellum. Teamed with Kamahl, he would return from shikar as the ancient ritual intended, as a hunter. A predator. A dangerous adversary and a valuable friend.
The First waved and a skull attendant came forward. "The mentor must set his pupil aside," he said, and the attendant copied the words onto a tablet she wore on a cord around her neck.
A knock sounded from outside the chamber. The First called, "Enter," and a hand attendant came forward bearing a silver mirror on a silk pillow. The First waved the attendant forward, and the shuffling man ascended the throne. He held the mirror up to the First's face, abjectly turning his aside.
In the mirror, a cephalid's face filled the screen. "Hail to you, Cabal Patriarch."
"You honor me, Empress Llawan. How fares the empire?" "It fares well. Have you considered our proposal?" "I have, Empress. I have not yet reached a decision." "But you will continue to extend your… hospitality to Ambassador Laquatus?" "As we agreed."
Llawan turned one eye to the mirror. "And the Cabal will remain neutral as we transition back into public service?"
"The Cabal has no interest in the internal affairs of the Mer empire," the First assured her. "Our relationship with all concerned parties is merely professional."
"Very well," Llawan pulled back, framing her face in the mirror. "But remember that relationships with the deep are not like those on dry land. You don't build a relationship like a house, you ride it like a wave. The wave is always changing, always moving. You must be very careful when you get off, or on."
The First smiled graciously. "Words I have already taken to heart. We have far more in common than you suspect, Empress." "We hope so, Patriarch. We hope so." Llawan's image faded. The First dismissed the mirror-bearing attendant, steepled his fingers under his chin, and sat in silent meditation for a time. When he next moved, it was to speak to his attendants. "Send for the Master of the Games."
"Veza," Laquatus said. "This is truly a most unexpected surprise. I came to collect the empress's survey data. I didn't expect to collect her pet mermaid as well."
The captain and crew had resisted when Laquatus removed the recording crystal, but they were easily subdued by the ambassador's human mercenaries. Each, had been armed and enchanted for underwater work, and Veza recognized several pirate clan tattoos among them. There was also some kind of living statue that had taken Turg's place at Laquatus's side.
"Take Director Veza to my ship," Laquatus said. "Bind the others and put them in the brig. I want this leviathan gutted and towed back to where it came in."
"Can we feed 'er to the rays, sir?"
"By all means. But save the head carapace. Hang it at the mouth of the chasm as a warning." Laquatus followed Veza as she was led out. She saw him whisper something to the purple statue, and the statue nodded, then stayed behind.
They led her to Laquatus's ray, where they untied her wrists and feet and locked her in a chamber. Before too long, Laquatus himself came to join her.
"I must apologize," he said, "but we are inches away from a fullblown civil war. I had actually hoped the information from your survey would calm some of the passions that are running so high. Alas, it seems that this chasm is another item Llawan and I must quarrel over." He stared hard at Veza. "Have you become more fluid, my dear, as I suggested?"
"If you mean, am I ready to join your side, the answer is no."
"I don't think you've thought this through, so I'll give you another chance to answer." Laquatus leaned forward to clear a floating strand of hair out of Veza's face, but she swatted his hand aside. He smiled.
"Why are you so loyal to the empress? She sent you into harm's way through sheer ignorance. She is not worthy of your loyalty. And besides, she holds no such love for you or any of our kind." " 'Our kind,' Ambassador? What is our kind?" "The adaptable," he said instantly. "Those of us who can respond quickly to changing circumstances. Those of us who continually define ourselves." He crouched next to her where she sat. "Let me help you, Veza. Trust in me half as much as you trust in Llawan, and I will never abandon you, as she has." "Llawan has not abandoned me."
"Hasn't she?" Laquatus brought a blue mirror out of his robe. He held it before his face and said, "Empress Llawan?"
The empress's face soon appeared. "What do you want, pretender?" "I have captured your spy vessel in Otaria Chasm. Your ship and its crew will be executed at dawn."
"If you damage a single scale on our leviathan," Llawan raged, "we will crucify you on the ocean's floor."
Laquatus glanced at Veza, making sure she was listening to the exchange. "What's that, Your Majesty? No concern for the crew?" "If you have taken our crew, then they are already dead." "Not at all, Empress." He turned the mirror to face Veza. "Your valued advisor from Breaker Bay is chatting with me now." Laquatus gave the two women the briefest glimpse of each other before turning the mirror back to his own face. "Will you barter for her life, at least?"
"We grow weary of your voice, Laquatus. If you have a point, make it."
"A trade. The leviathan and the mermaid in exchange for the chasm."
Llawan clicked angrily. "No. We are sorry to lose our leviathan and our friend Veza. But we will come for their bodies soon, Laqua-tus, and when we do, you will surely fall. This audience is over." Laquatus smiled at the darkened glass and casually placed the mirror back in his robes. He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to Veza.
"I'd say you are officially abandoned, Director. So now, the question is to you." A knock sounded, and Laquatus's featureless man came in with a heavy sack over his shoulder.
"Will you take my hand and help the Mer empire reach the very pinnacle of its power and prestige?" He took the sack from his servant. "Thank you, Burke.
"Or will you remain loyal to Llawan, who has endangered and abandoned you?" Laquatus opened the sack and pulled it away from its contents. The heads of the leviathan's bridge crew floated freely in the chamber between Laquatus and Veza. "I apologize for the rudeness of the message, but the question is pressing. Who shall you serve?"
Veza looked at the ghastly display, then Burke's expressionless face, then Laquatus's confident smile.
"If the chasm has a hidden value," she said, "I can help you secure it."
"Excellent." Laquatus extended his hands, and Veza rose to take them. "We should begin at once."