The voice erupted from deep in the ship: a frightful, murderous voice.
Arunis' face took on a strange look of rapture. "My lord!" he cried. "Across world and void I come to thee! Through death's gate, by roads of darkness, wastes of years, I return!"
Arunis made no reply. Instead, while the Shaggat went on howling demands, he walked calmly aft. Hundreds of men fell back at his approach, until at last he reached the little group surrounding Thasha.
"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" he said with a sneer.
Rose was deaf to his mockery. He stood apart, hands covering his eyes, trembling.
"I will take your silence for assent. Now hear me, all of you: Chathrand has a new master, and his name is Arunis. You thought to cancel this marriage, Isiq. That will never be. Your daughter will marry a Mzithrini, or die in torment before your eyes. And when she is wed this ship will sail for the Ruling Sea, and its rendezvous with war. Nothing can stop this from happening! If you do not trust me, trust Dr. Chadfallow."
"Trust him? Never again!" said Isiq. "I would sooner trust a crawly!"
"You are insulted, Doctor!" Arunis laughed. "But there is no time to waste. Go to the Shaggat Ness; unchain him and his sons. You will find the key on that idiot by the wheelhouse." He gestured contemptuously at Uskins. Then, barely pausing, he turned to Fiffengurt.
"In the doctor's cabin sits a crate. Bring it up. And have the blacksmith's forge hoisted to the deck as well, and a good fire built."
"What if I don't?" said Fiffengurt.
Arunis raised an eyebrow. Fiffengurt was shaking with fear. But still he managed to raise his voice defiantly, addressing the whole crew: "What if we don't, men? What if we swear to kill this cur and his Shaggat, even if he takes fifty of us with 'im, eh?"
The bravest men began to cheer, but Arunis shouted over them: "In that case I will kill Lady Thasha-and the Emperor will kill you all. Do you mean that no one has explained? Captain Rose?"
Rose said nothing. His back was bent, and his gaze far away.
"Well then, Sergeant Drellarek? Isn't it time you admitted what His Supremacy expects of his Turachs?"
Drellarek hesitated. Six hundred pairs of eyes were on him. "We are to keep the Shaggat alive," he said at last.
"And should any harm befall him?"
"We shall all be killed, with our families, upon return to Ether-horde. But we do not serve you, filth-mage."
"Nor do I seek your service, dog! Only recall your oath to the crown. Let no one approach His Holiness the Shaggat during the ceremony to come." He raised his voice to a shout. "You think you defeated Sandor Ott? His plan marches on! Should the Shaggat die, everyone aboard this ship will follow fast."
"But Ott thought you were dead!" said Uskins, peeping down from the quarterdeck. "You were never part of his plan!"
"That is true," said Arunis. "But I improved it-perfected it. None here can stand against me now."
Thasha, her voice a wounded rasp, said, "Ramachni can."
Arunis laughed once more. "Such faith the girl has in you, Ramachni! But I know you better. You have done too much in this world already-a healing charm I smell about you, to say nothing of your foolish freeing of Mr. Druffle. Any power left to you after that was wasted on the fleshancs. That is why I bothered with them, of course."
He stepped toward Ramachni, arms flung wide. "You, oppose me? Do it now, weasel! Save your friends!"
There it was, once more-that hint of fear in his voice. Yet Ramachni, claws tight on Hercуl's shoulder, bowed his head and said nothing.
"I knew it!" said Arunis. "There's no power left in him! Stay and watch my triumph, wizard: your helplessness will make it all the sweeter. You boys!"
He pointed suddenly at Neeps and Pazel, who froze like startled deer. He's got us, Pazel thought. Oh Rin! Which Master-Word?
But Arunis showed no sign of recognizing his former captives. "Draw a circle on the deck," he commanded. "Only I, the Shaggat and those I name may enter it during the ceremony. Sergeant Drellarek, your men will kill all others on the spot."
At noon precisely "the ceremony" began.
The first-class passengers, still locked behind the Money Gate, were the first to hear the great slouching, stomping footfalls. They drew back in horror: the augrongs, Refeg and Rer, were lumbering by, turning their fist-sized yellow eyes on the speechless humans in their finery. They had only budged from their den in the forward hold to help occasionally with anchor-lifting. Now they were squeezing up the main ladderway to the topdeck, where Arunis beckoned impatiently. When they stood at last in the sun they shuffled behind him, docile as hounds.
Below, a woman screamed. While their eyes had been on the augrongs another figure had lumbered down the passage, escorted by a dozen marines. The Shaggat Ness moved like some slow, thick-bodied carnivore. His scarred face twitched like a victim of palsy, and his clouded red eyes looked at them with such hate that even those who had not quailed at the augrongs fell back in terror. Pacu Lapadolma made the sign of the Tree. Walking behind him, the Shaggat's yellow-robed sons saw her gesture and began to mutter of executions.
By Arunis' decree, the entire crew was gathered on deck. Officers and tarboys, sailors and Turach warriors stood side by side, helpless. When the Shaggat stepped out into the light they stumbled backward, like a mob of children who had woken a bear.
Arunis knelt and touched his forehead to the deck. "Master," he said. "After forty years among knaves and enemies we meet triumphant."
"Where is it?" said the Shaggat.
Arunis gestured with one hand. On the deck before the mainmast was an ash circle twenty feet across. At its center sat the forge-a mighty oven used to mend breastplates and anchors and other huge things of iron. Heaps of coal surrounded it. Six men worked the bellows that pumped air through its heart of fire. Before its open mouth the heat was so intense no one could stand it for more than a second or two.
The Shaggat stamped his foot. "There it is! Mine! Mine!"
Inside the forge, as if wading in the red-hot coals, stood the Red Wolf. A more fiendish-looking animal could scarcely be imagined. Its ruby eyes seemed fire themselves. The barnacles on its chest were exploding with heat; the lichen was in flames. It stood in a great steel crucible in the very hottest part of the fire. Already the Wolf's legs had begun to glow.
"The hour is come," said Arunis to the Shaggat. "Once you take up that which I promised you half a century ago, no horde or legion will be able to resist. And I shall walk behind you, Master of All Men-helping, teaching, guiding your hand."
Arunis cast his gaze over the crowd. "Do you see it at last, you conspirators? Ott's secret weapon will be more powerful than even he dared dream! We will not merely hurt the Mzithrini, we will crush them. And then we will crush Arqual. League by league we will burn both empires off the map."
"You'll need more than a Sizzy-made Wolf," said Oggosk with contempt. "A relic of the Dawn War, that's what you'll need. Find the Nilstone for your puppet-king, Arunis, if you want to rule the world."
"Puppet?" cried the Shaggat's sons. "Hang her! Hang her!"
"Soon I shall have no need of hangmen," said the Shaggat Ness.
The orange glow had spread to the Wolf's stomach. Its lower legs began to soften and bend.
Arunis turned to Lady Oggosk. "You are right, Duchess. Only one weapon will do for the next Lord of Alifros. Watch now and despair."
Pazel blinked the sweat from his eyes. The Shaggat was only an arm's length away. If he touched him and spoke the Stone-Word it would all be over-and Arunis would kill Thasha in a heartbeat.
All around them, men were murmuring prayers. "Save us, stop him, let me live to see my wife." Pazel looked at Ramachni. Must I do it? he thought. Must I let him kill her to stop the war? Ramachni's face told him nothing.
Then Thasha caught his eye-the same direct, dazzling look she had given him from the carriage in Etherhorde so many weeks before, but sorrowful now instead of glad. It was a look of understanding, an acceptance beyond all fear.
She was giving him permission.
Pazel looked down quickly. Let there be some other way. Any other way.
Coal flew spade after spade into the forge, to the ceaseless huffing of the bellows. The Wolf now glowed from head to tail. If Pazel spoke the Fire-Word he might make the flame go out, and delay whatever evil thing Arunis was up to. But the mage would simply light another fire, and the Word would be gone. And if what Arunis said was true it would mean Thasha's death to use the Stone-Word against him. The cursed necklace would strangle her the instant Arunis died.
Panic seized him. He was alone-surrounded by every friend he had in the world, and still utterly alone. It was up to Pazel to stop this horror, and he had no idea what to do.
But what was this? Ormali! Someone was speaking Ormali-and although it was chanted like a prayer, the words were for him.
"Look at me! At me, my Chereste heart!"
It was Druffle. There he stood at the back of the crowd: starved, bruised and shaky. But when he looked at Pazel, the freebooter's eyes lit up with rascally mischief. Druffle's gaze slid upward-and carefully, one eye still on Arunis, Pazel looked as well.
For a moment he saw nothing but the familiar jungle of ropes and spars. Then he saw him: Taliktrum. He was hidden in the mouth of a block-pulley, ten feet overhead.
"Look away from me!" he shouted.
He used the normal voice of ixchel, the voice Pazel alone could hear. Pazel obeyed at once.
"Can you stop him?" Taliktrum went on. "Answer in Nileskchet."
"I could if I could touch him," Pazel said aloud. "But I dare not."
"No," he agreed. "You dare not. But stay close to him, boy. We are not beaten yet."
"He'll murder Thasha!" Pazel cried. "And they'll kill me if I step inside that circle. How do you expect me to stay close?"
But Taliktrum made no answer, and when Pazel risked another glance at the mainsail, he was gone.
The nearest sailors were looking at him with fear and rage: the bad-luck tarboy, speaking in witch-tongues again. But Druffle sidled up to him and clasped his arm.
"He saved me," he said wonderingly, as if he still could not believe it. "I had a Tholjassan arrowhead six inches deep in my back. He put his arm in the wound and tugged it out. A crawly. A crawly saved my life."
A sigh came from the crowd: the Wolf's legs had given way and its body now lay in a pool of molten iron, half filling the crucible.
"Taliktrum," Pazel whispered. "You brought him back."
Druffle nodded. "And his sister, under my clothes."
"Diadrelu!"
"Aye, Her Ladyship. After Arunis pushed me out of that little boat, they held my head above water until your friend arrived. They're the finest folk I ever met."
"Where is she?"
But Druffle made no answer. Thasha and Neeps drew near. Thasha's eyes were moist. She looked as though she was taking leave of everything.
"Pazel," said Neeps, "Arunis is destroying the Wolf!"
"Yes," said Pazel, still watching Druffle's face.
"What for? He nearly got us killed looking for the thing!"
"It's not the Wolf he wants," rasped Thasha.
The boys looked at her, speechless.
"I've been reading the Polylex," she whispered. "To the Sizzies, wolves aren't evil. They're symbols of wisdom and strength. They cooperate, protect one another, care for the pack. In Mzithrini legends wolves warn people of danger. Don't you see? This Wolf isn't a weapon-it's a hiding place for one. Arunis wants whatever's inside."
"Thasha," said Pazel, "I'm not going to let him kill you."
To Pazel's astonishment, she hugged him tight. He tried to pull away-Arunis might punish her for anything-but she was stronger, and would not let go. Then all at once he felt movement against his chest. After Taliktrum's angry warning he knew better than to look down, but out of the corner of his eye he saw, and understood. Diadrelu was climbing from Thasha's shirt into his own.
"Hug her back, fool!" said the ixchel woman. "The mage is watching."
Pazel hugged her. But Dri wasn't satisfied. "By the Pits, Arunis is staring at you! Thasha, you went to the Lorg School! Can't you feign affection?"
"Feign?" said Pazel.
"Who's talking?" said Neeps.
Thasha kissed Pazel on the mouth.
Nothing he had ever felt was half so awkward or fascinating. But it lasted only an instant. Then came pain-a sudden, searing pain at his collarbone. Pazel gasped. His first thought was that Dri had stabbed him. But she was nowhere near the spot. No, it was Klyst: her magic shell was blazing beneath his skin, scalding him with murth-girl jealousy. He jerked his head away.
"Stop it!" he said.
Thasha dropped her arms. But now she was blazing, too. "As if it was my idea!" she snapped.
The pain stopped. Behind them, Arunis cackled. "Of course it wasn't!" he said. "It was your tutors'-or your father's, perhaps. Give her a tarry sweetheart-and one of the backward races, at that. Let her disgrace herself. Perhaps the Sizzies won't let one of their princes marry a tramp."
"Seal your lips, snake!" shouted Eberzam Isiq.
"Better to command your daughter thus," laughed Arunis. "But it will make no difference. She marries tomorrow."
"Thasha-" Pazel stammered.
She turned to him.
But then Dri spoke for his ears alone. "Forget her, if you would save her. Get closer to the mage."
"Never mind," he said. Thasha gave him a look of perfect exasperation.
Pazel squeezed through the crowd to the circle's edge, with Neeps just behind him. Inside the forge, the Wolf's body was so hot it quivered like a pudding. Its ruby eyes glowed brighter than ever.
"If you kill the mage, the voyage will go on," whispered Dri. "Rose and Drellarek will see to that."
"I know!" said Pazel.
"Pazel, who-" Neeps began.
"Don't talk to me!"
Pazel covered his ears. He was going mad. Think, think, think! Neeps fell silent, and for a time, so did everyone else. All eyes were on the Wolf, the mage, the twitching hands of the Shaggat. The heat was staggering. Then a howl tore the air-a wolf's howl, enormous and urgent-as the whole creature turned to liquid before their eyes. The howl raced down the length of the Chathrand, stirring the limp sails, and vanished with a last whine over the bows.
But in the pool of bubbling metal one object remained. It was a crystal sphere about the size of a melon. The sphere glistened in the firelight-but at its heart was something impenetrably black.
Dri hissed in her throat. "Oh no, no. Rin forbid."
"There it is!" cried Arunis. "Take it out! Cool it with seawater! Findre ble sondortha, Rer!"
Dutifully Rer put his tongs into the forge and removed the sphere. Great clouds of steam rose when he plunged it into a waiting bucket. The steam drenched them all: from a distance men would have thought the Chathrand ablaze. Finally it subsided, and Rer lifted the sphere again and placed it in the center of the anvil. It sparkled in the sun, but the core was darker than ever. Thasha had a sudden feeling that she had seen it before.
"Now, Refeg," said Arunis.
Refeg set the tip of his chisel on the sphere.
"Arunis!" said Hercуl suddenly. "Do not commit this atrocity! It will destroy you as well!"
"Break the sphere," said Arunis.
Refeg lifted his stone mallet, but before he could swing another voice thundered: "No!"
It was Captain Rose. He was on his feet and barreling toward the ash circle, as savagely excited as he had been numb moments before. "Don't break it! Chabak! Chabak, Refeg, you fool! Get it away from the fire!"
"Stop, Captain!" shouted Drellarek.
Rose did not stop. At his first step within the circle the Turachs raised their swords. But Drellarek intercepted Rose before they could pounce. He dealt Rose a blow to the head that could be heard ten yards away. Rose's body stiffened, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
"My apologies, sir," said Drellarek.
Rose staggered a last step-and fell against the mouth of the forge. There was an awful sizzling noise and a stench of burning flesh. Drellarek seized him by the shirt and pulled him backward-but not before Rose's shoulder knocked the crucible to the deck.
Screams of fear and agony. Like quicksilver, the Wolf's molten iron flashed across the deck. Everywhere, men leaped for rails and rigging-they worked barefoot, after all. The boots of the Turach soldiers burst one after another into flame; Drellarek screamed at them to hold their ground. Mr. Fiffengurt, weeping for his ship, kicked over the cask of seawater, which vaporized instantly on contact with the iron and scalded men worse than the metal itself.
Through all the chaos Arunis kept perfectly still, gripping the Shaggat's arm.
The cloud of steam lifted. Slags of iron bubbled on the deck, and Fiffengurt gave orders for them to be scooped and tossed overboard. Dr. Chadfallow ran from sailor to sailor, shouting, "Don't walk on your burns, man!"
Climbing down from a forestay, Pazel winced. In the frenzy a sailor had knocked him over, and his left palm had come down on a coin-sized splash of iron. With a cry he had torn it off-along with a patch of burned skin. In fact he had been lucky-the scalding steam had passed over his head-but what agony in his hand! The spot on his palm felt like hard leather, and somehow he knew it always would.
At the forge, Arunis had redrawn the circle and Drellarek's men ringed it as before. Rose lay groaning against the starboard rail, letting Oggosk wrap his burned arm in gauze. The crystal sphere had not moved from its place on the anvil. The sorcerer gestured again to Refeg.
"Break it, now."
But the augrong had flung its mallet halfway to the bow. Arunis pointed at a trembling Jervik and ordered him to fetch it. While they waited, Thasha studied the sphere. Why was it so familiar?
Then she had it: the Polylex, again. She had seen a drawing of just such a sphere, being rolled into a cannon's mouth.
"Oh skies," she whispered. "It's one of those!"
She was on the point of shouting-they were in immediate and terrible danger-when a hand closed on her shoulder, and a voice hissed: "Shhhh."
It was the veterinarian, Bolutu. "You're right of course, Bride-to-Be," he whispered (and his accent was very different from his normal voice-and somehow more true). "Rose guessed it also. But you must not interfere. How else will the sorcerer be defeated?"
"But we can't… all these people!"
Jervik had retrieved the mallet. The augrong took it and stepped up to the sphere once more.
"All these people are not a drop beside the sea of deaths he has in mind, Lady. You know I speak the truth. Let the dragon's-egg shot burst, even though we sink. Only then will Arunis-"
"Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!"
Out of nowhere, snapping at Bolutu's heels, was the small, furious white dog. Arunis raised his hand, and Refeg paused.
"You. Black man!"
The sorcerer's arm shot out. He crooked a finger, and Bolutu stiffened and stumbled forward.
"You're keeping a secret from me," said Arunis, with a perfectly hideous smile. "Oh, there's no need to speak. You're thinking about it, that will do… Ah!"
His eyes grew wide with fury. He waved sharply and Bolutu fell to his knees with a cry.
"A dragon's-egg shot! So you would let me shatter it here, where its deadly yolk would splash into the flames and explode? You knew, and said nothing? Well, since you are so fond of silence-"
What happened next gave Thasha nightmares for the rest of her life. Arunis spread his fingers. Bolutu's head jerked up, his mouth wide open. With his other hand Arunis pointed at the fire-and a coal rose and flew like a wasp of flame into Bolutu's mouth.
Bolutu gave a rending scream, then fell forward, unconscious. Beside her, Thasha saw that Ramachni too had crumpled, shivering in Hercуl's arms.
The Shaggat Ness stepped forward and kicked Bolutu in the head. He toppled backward out of the circle. Dr. Chadfallow leaped forward and dragged him away.
Arunis watched the shivering Ramachni. "You put out the coal, Ramachni?" He laughed. "A final gasp of magical mercy? Why am I not surprised? As you will-Bolutu may live, but he will never speak again. Fiffengurt! Close the forge, let the fire die. You, Rer: drag it away."
A chain was found; Rer looped it around the iron forge and hauled the smoldering thing up the deck. Arunis watched, then gestured again at Refeg.
"Now," he said.
The augrong raised his mallet and dealt the sphere a crushing blow. The very deck of the Chathrand seemed to quake, but the crystal survived. Three times Refeg swung, and on the third blow the crystal shattered. From the pieces oozed a clear liquid like the white of an egg. And resting on the anvil was the oddest thing Pazel had ever seen.
It was another sphere, orange-sized or smaller, but impossible to look at directly. It seemed to be made of night. It had no surface features-no surface at all, as far as he could tell. It was merely black and cold. And wrong. Something in Pazel's mind and bones and blood rejected the sphere. It was a flaw, a wound in the world. Across the ship men's faces paled.
"Master," said Arunis to the Shaggat, "I keep my promises."
"No," said the Shaggat. "I take what is mine."
Suddenly his voice rose in a thunderous roar. Spittle flew from his mouth as he turned, gesturing wildly. "Bow down, sorcerer! Bow, kings, generals, all lesser princes of this world! The Shaggat is come, the Shaggat, to cleanse and claim it! Behold, I wield the Nil-stone!"
Dozens of ixchel voices began to scream. "It's true! By the hallowed names, it's true! Kill him, kill him, Pazel Pathkendle! Kill him now!"
The little people must have been hiding everywhere. But one voice-the voice of Dri in Pazel's shirt-hissed, "Not yet!"
A wall of Turachs stood between Pazel and the forge, terribly nervous, ready to stab anything that moved. Even if he wanted to, Pazel doubted he could ever reach the two men.
"Bow your heads!" screamed the Shaggat Ness.
Arunis bowed. The Shaggat's sons groveled on their bellies. Everyone else merely gaped. The Shaggat put out his hand and grasped the Nilstone. For a moment all eyes were on him.
"Now!" said Dri. "Do it! Run!"
Pazel burst into the circle, running full tilt, and dived beneath the legs of the nearest Turach. The man stabbed at him, but too late. Pazel crashed forward, stopping inches from the Shaggat's heels.
The mad king was raising the Nilstone to the sun. A roar of triumph came from his throat. Pazel reached up-and Arunis, catching sight of him, drew his knife. But before either could act the Shaggat's roar became a wail of pain.
The hand that gripped the Nilstone was dead. Hideously dead, the fingers rotted, the bones erupting through the skin. And death was running like flame up the Shaggat's arm.
Howling, the Shaggat whirled. "Betrayed! Betrayed! Kill the sorcerer, kill every-"
He broke off. A tarboy was looking him in the eye. And Pazel touched him and spoke the Master-Word.
It was like an earthquake beneath the sea. Pazel felt that it was not him but the entire world that had spoken, every part of it at once. The sun turned black, or else too bright for human eyes. Clouds in the distance were torn to shreds. But there was no wind, no waves-and already the Word was gone from his mind.
All about the deck, men stumbled in a daze. What had just happened? What had changed?
Pazel lowered his hand. Before him stood a statue of a king with one dead arm, raising his withered fist in the air. Within that fist lay the Nilstone, unchanged. But the Shaggat was no more.
Arunis looked at the statue and then whirled to face Pazel, his eyes bewildered and lost. It was as if he were seeing the tarboy for the first time-and seeing too his own impossible defeat.
"A child," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "A lowborn brat. What madness moves you, boy?"
Then Diadrelu spoke, for Pazel's ears alone. "Hold your ground. Have no fear of him. If his knife-hand moves I shall slit his throat."
Not a man stirred on the Great Ship. But one creature did: Ramachni. Moving gingerly, the black mink walked into the circle and looked up at the mage.
"The dragonlords of old had a saying, Arunis," he said. "No one fondles fire and escapes unburned. How careless you have been! You raided libraries, stole many books. You knew the Nilstone could make your Shaggat invincible. But had you read further, you would have learned that every mortal man who has touched it since the time of Erithusmй has died on the spot. For what is the Nilstone, Arunis? You have spent your life craving it. Surely you know?"
"It is the greatest weapon on earth," said Arunis.
"No," said Thasha from behind them. "It's death."
No one had heard her approach. Ramachni looked at her and nodded.
"Death given form," he said. "And none who fear death in any corner of their heart may wield it. The Fell Princes drank an enchanted wine from Agaroth, the twilit land that borders death's kingdom, before they touched the Nilstone. Drinking, they knew no fear, and so they took the stone and used it for unspeakable evil. But they had only so much wine. And you have none at all."
Ramachni shook his head. "Arunis! All your will has been bent to the unleashing of violence-a war, a warlord, this evil Nilstone. You thought to control it, as you controlled the Shaggat Ness. But we are never long the masters of the violence we unleash. In the end it always masters us."
"Reverse the spell," hissed Arunis. "Make the Shaggat flesh again. Remember that Thasha Isiq is mine to kill."
"But you will not kill her," said Ramachni.
"Will I not?" screamed the mage suddenly. "How is that? Will you stop me, weasel?"
"I already have," said Ramachni. "You see, Arunis, I did not spend my power fighting the fleshancs, as you wished me to. I spent it long before. A great deal went into teaching Pazel his Master-Words. Very much worth the trouble, as it turns out."
Pazel smiled despite himself.
"Yet two problems remained," Ramachni continued. "One was the curse on Thasha's necklace, which I could not break. Tell me, did Syrarys know that she was condemning Thasha to death when she used your silver polish?"
Arunis made no answer. Pazel saw Thasha glance suddenly across the deck, to where Lady Oggosk stood beside the captain. Pit-fire, he thought. Was the old woman trying to save Thasha when she sent her cat to steal the necklace? What's her blary game?
"The second problem," Ramachni went on, "was that so many people were willing to murder the innocent, should the Shaggat die. Not just you, but Sandor Ott, Drellarek, the Emperor himself. So I dared not kill the Shaggat, or even allow him to die."
"Then the spell can be reversed!"
"It can," said Ramachni, "but Pazel cannot do it. Nor can I, nor anyone aboard. The Shaggat will become flesh again when one soul aboard Chathrand-and I shall never tell you which-dies. It may be Thasha, or this boy before you. Or Rose, or Uskins, anyone at all. The minute that one dies, the Stone-Word shall be reversed."
"Is that the best you could do?" cried Arunis. "Let the Shaggat be stone, then, until we cross the Ruling Sea and meet his army of worshippers! He will be far less trouble! Once on Gurishal I shall no longer require these men. And I shall kill them: all six hundred, if need be. I shall find your spell-keeper!"
"And when you kill that person," said Thasha, eyes wide with understanding, "the Shaggat will turn back into flesh, and the Nil-stone will kill him. Oh, Pazel! How did you know when to speak? You were wonderful!"
"And you are without friends, Arunis," said Hercуl.
Rage clouded the sorcerer's eyes. He looked sharply at Thasha and raised his hand. "I do not have to kill her to make her suffer," he said.
Thasha's necklace gave a savage twist. She could not even scream. Her face turned crimson and tears sprang from her eyes.
Pazel's first thought was to beg the augrongs to stomp Arunis to death once and for all. But only Arunis could make the necklace stop-Ramachni had just said as much. Thasha staggered, her eyes rolling back in her head. Pazel caught her as she fell.
In the face of Eberzam Isiq, something snapped. He drew his old sword and flew at Arunis, shouting a war-cry. Just in time, Hercуl leaped into his path and dragged him aside. Arunis laughed in the old man's face.
Then they all heard it: the flat sound of metal striking stone. Arunis whirled. There was Neeps, a lump of iron in his hand, smashing the toes of the Shaggat Ness.
"We don't have to kill him to make him a cripple!" he said.
On his last word the Shaggat's big toe shattered to dust.
"Stop! Stop!" bellowed Arunis. "You shell-island scum! Very well, I release her-for now."
Thasha gulped air, writhing in Pazel's arms. Her throat was red and raw. Eberzam Isiq dropped heavily to his knees beside Pazel, and together they held her.
Sergeant Drellarek came forward. "Sorcerer," he said, "you speak with contempt of the Shaggat Ness. You are no believer. Why make use of him? Why did you not take the stone for yourself?"
"Keep to your own affairs, Turach," snarled Arunis.
"That's an easy one," piped up Druffle, from the edge of the crowd. "He was afraid! Didn't know what he was afraid of, exactly, but whatever the risk, he wanted somebody else to take it. The Shaggat's just your hand-puppet, ain't he, you louse?"
"The Shaggat is everyone's hand-puppet!" screamed Arunis.
"Or no one's," said Ramachni.
"Idiot mage! Why do you meddle in the affairs of my world? Have men not done enough harm in your own? Look at that beast!" He stabbed a finger at the Shaggat. "Made for slaughter! A curse on any land, a plague-bearer, a despoiler of all he sees! If he ever conquers Alifros he'll find himself the emperor of ashes!"
Pazel looked up at the sorcerer. Then why are you helping him?
"You are wrong about humans," said Ramachni. "There is evil in them, of course. But there is also sublime beauty, and a thirst for good. It is that thirst that makes them change, and grow, and wake each day a bit more fully."
"They can no more change than His Nastiness here," said Arunis. "They are statues. Gargoyles. Souls of stone."
Ramachni shook his head. "They are fluid souls. What they can feel, and imagine, and rise to-not even they yet appreciate."
"Even the Shaggat is more than just a statue," said Hercуl.
Sergeant Drellarek raised his hand. "Enough! This is a stalemate, wizard. You cannot beat them, nor they you. Leave the deck! You have already come close to sinking the Great Ship. If it is true that the Shaggat can be restored to life, then our mission will go on. I know nothing of curse-stones and magic wine, but I have my orders. The girl will marry and fulfill Ott's prophecy. We shall feign our own wreck and vanish into the Ruling Sea, and Captain Rose will see us safely across her. You, sorcerer, will have months to prove that you are smarter than three youths and a mink."
Arunis' hands clenched in rage. "You, Throatcutter-you and your kind sought to kill me forty years ago. My body hung from a noose on Licherog, but my spirit lived. Death is my servant, not my master. I will free the Shaggat. And Thasha will marry, or die at my feet. This I promise you."
"Then the Emperor's will be done," said Drellarek, and his warriors cheered: "His will be done! His will be done!"
"Rin help us, the idiots," Dri whispered to Pazel. "They're cheering for their own deaths."
Arunis looked from face to face, his eyes shining with hate. Last of all his gaze fell on Chadfallow.
"What says the good doctor?" he sneered.
Pazel and the others looked as well, hardly more friendly than Arunis. Chadfallow dropped his eyes.
"The Emperor's will be done," he said.