"A very subtle and gifted expert, we should think," Llawan said. "Fortunately, we have the finest mind-rider in all the empire right here in our city." She turned and clicked a few curt commands to someone behind her. Then she regarded Veza with a suspicious eye. "Are you currently tailed, Director?"
Veza flushed, giving her blue skin a purplish tone. "Yes, Empress. It was a side effect of the spell I cast."
"We understand. You will resume your land-going form at once." "Empress?"
"We are going to test this theory of yours. We are going to give you information to pass along to Laquatus. If he sees you changed as you are, he will assume you have been to the depths and are in league with someone to betray him. He might guess Aboshan and he might guess Llawan, but if he guesses at all, he will be on guard. And we would have him as unprepared as possible when we first attempt to monitor him."
"Of course, Empress." Veza said a silent blessing for her luck. She was not sure she could change back on command, and at least now she would not have to try in front of the empress.
Llawan sat silent for a moment, thinking. Then, she said, "I will send a courier with falsified documents that prove we are in hiding. You will show them to Laquatus and offer to deliver them to him if he so wishes." She half-opened her beak in a sharp cephalid smile. "Laquatus will certainly pass the information on to Aboshan. Our imperial husband is always pleased to hear reports of our weakness, and Laquatus is always eager to please the emperor.
"If our monitors pick up our planted information in the link you describe, we will know that it is truly a window into Laquatus's mind. And you, Director Veza, will have earned our gratitude and our love."
"You honor me, Empress Llawan."
"Not yet, Director. First, we will test your flash of inspiration. This audience is over."
Llawan broke the connection, and Veza watched the mirror go dark. Then she carefully laid it down and pushed herself off the floor into the water. She felt calm and confident, but her exhilaration faded into fatigue as she floated in lazy circles around her tidal pool.
She knew she'd been ignoring her regular duties as depot director, but she also knew that however things happened, she wouldn't have to worry about them for very much longer. Either her idea would bear fruit, Llawan would reward her, and Aboshan would declare her his enemy. Or, her idea would fail, and Llawan would punish her, and she'd be stuck in Breaker Bay forever, with plenty of time to catch up on her paperwork.
In any case, she thought, she wasn't in any shape to do anything with the next few hours but take some well-earned time to herself in the gentle lapping waves of Breaker Bay.
CHAPTER 11
Chainer awoke in his own private bedroom. He looked around to determine where he was, then checked himself for wounds. There were some minor cuts and bruises, and a few more serious injuries which had already been stitched up and bandaged over. His scanning eyes came to rest on his chain coiled around the bedpost by his foot, and he remembered everything that had happened to him outside the vault.
Everything but how he got back to his own room, that is. He recalled Skellum leading him through the labyrinth of halls and down Manor Way to the academy, but such indistinct memories were quickly eclipsed by images of Deidre's death and the echo of the Mirari's call. Chainer lunged out of bed, but his legs failed, and he fell heavily to the floor. His muscles wouldn't flex, and he could hardly move. His head swam, and his eyes, ears, and throat were raw.
It was only then that he noticed Skellum. His mentor was sitting in a large, wooden rocker with a vague look on his face. Without so much as a flicker of an eyelid, Skellum tossed a censer across the room to Chainer. "Catch."
Chainer slapped his hands around the pewter cage before it hit him in the chest and then winced as his arms objected.
"Skellum," he said through the pain, "they got Deidre. Did they get the Mirari?"
"Catch," Skellum said, and he tossed Chainer's knuckle dagger to him. Chainer was unable to get his fingers to work in time and had to roll out from under the dagger's point before it stuck in the floor. The abandoned censer rolled halfway back toward Skellum. "Skellum, what in nine hells-"
"Catch." Chainer realized his mentor's hat had been spinning a split second before Skellum stopped a gap in front of his face. The vortex spat a small smoking comet toward Chainer. He yelped and reflexively snapped his hand out as if casting his chain.
To his surprise, a black chain did leap out of his empty hand. Its sharp, weighted end intercepted Skellum's casting before it could fully form. There was a small pop, an oily flash, and a foul smell.
Then Skellum was out of the chair and standing over him. Chainer had forgotten how fast the older man was. Chainer himself lie panting and helpless on the floor with his hands crossed defensively over his face.
"I give, Master, I give," he said. "What's going on? Why won't you talk to me? Where's the Mirari?"
"Kirtar of the Order has your precious Mirari," Skellum said. "A wild Krosan dragon came straight into the arena. There was a lot of noise and confusion. Kirtar and your barbarian friend stopped it, and the Master of the Games gave the Mirari to the bird-man as a reward."
Chainer absorbed this. "Kamahl let him take it? Is he all right?" "Kamahl was buried under a half-ton of dead dragon," Skellum said. "By the time he dug himself out, Kirtar was gone, with that pretentious mer ambassador trailing behind him like a scavenger. Do fish scavenge after birds, or is it the other way around? Never mind. Your barbarian friend was half a day behind. He took off after them as soon as we told him they had the sphere."
"I wanted him to have it," Chainer said absently. "The First said he would have won it."
"And he could well have, but now we'll never know. The Mirari is gone, the First is pleased, and we have work to do." He prodded Chainer roughly with the toe of his boot. "Get up."
"Ow. Why? Don't I get to sleep in after protecting the vault? Deidre and that monkey guy were killed, you know."
"I do know, and you did get to sleep after protecting the vault. You've been asleep since I brought you here three days ago." "Three days? It can't be."
"It is. You've slept long enough." He offered Chainer his hand, but his face was still stem and impatient.
Chainer carefully took Skellum's hand and stood unsteadily. "Master," he said, "have I done wrong?"
"Wrong?" Skellum jerked his hand away and shoved Chainer back onto his bed. The younger man clawed helplessly at the air as he fell. He had never heard Skellum raise his voice in anger before. "You abandoned an assignment given to you by the First himself. You used the dementia exercise I expressly told you not to use. You killed three more members of the Order after the First and I both forbade you to do so, and you killed them using a spell that you never told your mentor you knew how to perform."
Chainer waited. Skellum would often browbeat him before praising him, but this was different. Chainer didn't think Skellum was going to break into a smile and laugh off these indiscretions any time soon.
"This isn't a game, Chainer. Games take place in the pits. Games have rules, they have winners and losers. People watch games for amusement. What you did, what I do-what all dementists do-it's not like anything else. You can't dabble in it. You can't polish it and put it in your weapons rack at the end of the day. Dementia space is alive. It interacts with you, it changes you. It shapes you just as surely as you shape it."
"Master-"
"Be silent. The First thinks I'm too careful with you. I don't know what you think, and I don't much care."
"Mast-"
"Be silent! I have trained scores of casters and potential dementists. The vast majority-" he tapped his temple with all five fingers brought to a point- "are gone. They only appear to be here in Cabal City with the rest of us. In reality, they only visit us occasionally. The rest of their time is spent raving, or meditating, or drooling quietly in a darkened room while they run wild in their own dementia space. Do you understand me at all, Chainer? What we do b
reaks minds. And the sad fact is that a broken mind won't stop you from being an excellent dementia caster. In fact, it often helps."
"But I," Skellum's voice softened slightly, "want you lucid. I want you to be a full-fledged dementist. There is far too much in this world to be enjoyed, and madness tends to water down some of life's strongest flavors. I would rather have you here, in this world, sharing a good meal and a good show while we both serve the Cabal. Not lost in the world within, constantly building monsters so you can surround yourself with them."
Skellum bent his face over Chainer's, and his voice dropped to a terse whisper. "The First also wants you lucid, for his own reasons.
You and I both serve the First, we both serve the Cabal, but that doesn't mean we can't also serve ourselves."
Chainer shut his eyes tightly, then reopened them. "I'm sorry, Master. I don't understand."
Skellum's voice grew stern again. "That is why you should listen to me and follow my instructions."
"I will, Master. I swear it." Chainer offered his hand up to Skel-lum. "Help me to succeed. Give me your instructions. I will not disappoint you again."
Skellum continued to stare at Chainer, sighed, and finally took his pupil's hand. "I am not disappointed, Chainer. I am annoyed by your disobedience. And I am concerned for your safety." He pulled Chainer into a sitting position, took hold of his other hand, and hauled the younger man to his feet. "Now come with me. I told you before, we have a lot of work to do."
Chainer stood, flexing his knees and ankles. The feeling was coming back into his extremities, and the pain was fading from his eyes and throat.
"I think I'm ready, Master. Where are we going?"
"To the pits. Gather your weapons."
Chainer stiffly bent and gathered up the dagger and censer. "I may be slow on the staircase, but I think I can-"
"We're not going to the pit mock-up in the basement. We are going to the pits in the arena."
"Really? What for?"
Skellum's eyes narrowed. "Because the First wishes it. And also, to prove a point."
*****
Chainer stood in the empty pits, whirling the smoking censer around his head. As before, Skellum sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him with his hat also spinning.
"Remember how you got there last time," Skellum said. "Without me, I might add. You must take us there. I'm visiting your dementia space this time, not the other way around."
Chainer concentrated behind his closed eyes. The image was still there: the black sand, the endless desert, the red sea pouring from the mustard sky.
"My eyes are closed, too." Skellum sounded petulant. "Are we there yet?"
"Almost," Chainer said. He felt gravity shift beneath him, but he kept his balance. He opened his eyes. "We're here," he said.
The scene was almost exactly as Chainer remembered it. The only major difference was that the inland sea was now half-full, and the rush of red from the hole in the sky had dropped off to a steady stream. He turned proudly to Skellum, but his mentor was staring wide eyed and open mouthed at the vista.
"Kuberr's fortune," he whispered. "Chainer, is this what you saw in the hallway?"
"Yes, Master." Chainer's body was still getting used to swinging the censer, but he had already worked out the best stance to take while spinning it. He adjusted his footing and raised his chain arm higher, trying to minimize the tension on his shoulder.
"Chainer?"
"Yes, Master?" Now Chainer adjusted his grip on the chain. He would probably need to start wearing a thick leather glove again, as he had when he first started learning the weapon. Minat had told him to be careful about letting calluses get too thick or they could throw off the feel of the chain and make you lose your grip.
"Chainer!"
"Master?"
"Something's coming, and it doesn't look friendly. What should we do?"
"What? I mean… aren't you the expert here? Master?"
"This is your playground, not mine," Skellum's voice was gradually becoming more hollow and singsong. "I'm just visiting."
Chainer suddenly felt very cold. He was still recovering from protecting the vault, and the smell of Dragon's Blood wasn't helping. If Skellum faded out now, they might both die here. The figure Skellum had spotted was coming steadily closer. Chainer couldn't see it clearly, but it looked big. He squinted. Between the smoke and the featureless desert, it was impossible to put the thing on any kind of scale.
"Master," he said, "what happens if I stop spinning the censer? Will we reappear in the pits, or-
"Don't stop spinning," Skellum said. "I forbid it." His hat was also spinning, faster than Chainer had ever seen. Skellum was also twitching slightly at the shoulder, and every time he twitched, it spread across the rest of his body like a wave. "Master? Are you all right?" "Don't stop spinning. Not till I say."
The thing was now close enough for Chainer to see its general shape. It was humanoid but much broader and taller. It had a long, triangular head with wide jaws. It opened its mouth and roared. It was an ugly, grating sound, but Chainer welcomed it. At least now he knew how far away the thing was.
"Master, we don't have much time. Ten or twenty seconds. I don't think I can fight this thing, and I don't know how to get back to the pits if I can't stop the censer. Help me."
Skellum rose smoothly to his feet. "I thought you'd never ask." At his full height, he was well below the arc of the chain, even with the hat. He glided up alongside Chainer and held his hand in front of his pupil's mouth, just below his eyes.
"When I say," Skellum kept his eyes on the approaching monster, "stop spinning."
Chainer didn't know if it was a trick of perspective or if the thing was picking up speed as it got closer, but it seemed to be coming at them much faster than before. It charged along the ground like an ape, bent forward on all fours. It was taller than Chainer, and it had a head like a snake. Its lower jaw was distended and open wide, exposing rows and rows of short, sharp teeth. It continued to roar as it charged. When it was ten yards away, Skellum said, "Stop spinning," and covered Chainer's eyes. Chainer brought the censer to rest in the sand. He heard the implosive sound of Skellum producing a monster and felt another shift in his gut that told him they were now somewhere else. The creature's roar had vanished.
"This is where you should have gone," Skellum said. "This is where you would have gone if you'd waited for me." He pulled his hand away, and Chainer blinked his eyes clear.
They were surrounded by mist. Chainer sniffed it to make sure it wasn't just more Dragon's Blood, but the mist was odorless and felt the same as air in his lungs. He breathed in deeply and looked around, struggling to see anything through the thick fog.
"Where you were just now," Skellum explained, "you just shouldn't have been able to get there without help. You're a gifted student, Chainer, but not that gifted."
"But I was there, Master. You saw it. And I had no help."
"Of course you did. Do you think it was a coincidence that you achieved this advanced state of dementia trance within a stone's throw of that artifact you found? The First said it was powerful. You had contact with it. Obviously you tapped into its power somehow, and that power catapulted you deeper into dementia space than you could have gone on your own."
Chainer paused. "That would make sense."
"And now, thanks to the First's meddling, the Mirari's power, and your willfulness, I have to do something I don't want to do." He looked meaningfully at Chainer, who waited for him to continue.
"Do I want you to do it?"
"Of course not," Skellum snapped. "It's unpleasant and painful, and you're going to think me heartless. But if I don't do it, you'll never make it back here."
"Never?" "Never."
Chainer hung the censer from a loop on his vest. "Then do it." Skellum smiled sadly at his pupil. "I already have." He whispered a few words and waved. A strong wind whipped up and carried most of the fog away with it. The bare landscape left behind was as
dull and gray as an unpolished stone. In the distance several figures walked, their feet still partially obscured by wisps of fog.
Chainer watched them walk. He pointed. "Who are they?"
"They are the reason I didn't want you killing things before your training was complete. I have a confession to make, Chainer. The First only dressed you down for killing that Order war bird because I asked him to. I didn't want you to kill because every one and every thing you kill winds up here. This is the first level of dementia. The creatures here are the creatures you've seen, fought against, and bested. The memory of them remains here, in your mind. If you want to get deeper, if you want to go beyond your physical experiences, you must go through here."
Chainer brushed his dagger. "So I have to fight them." He recognized the crusat bird Callda flying over the other figures. Its silhouette was bent and ragged, and it didn't seem possible that it could fly. "In a manner of speaking. You have to control them. They are not as they actually were, they are as you remember them to be. If you recall them as stronger than they were when you defeated them, they will be. If you believe they are still hostile to you, they will be."
"Oh." Chainer's voice was tight.
"It gets worse. You skipped this level and went right to one of the deepest reaches of your own dementia space. And when we went back there, something was waiting for us. Something that you've never actually faced but only imagined. There's no way that should have been possible, but there it is. You'll have to control that thing, too, along with these others."
Chainer nodded. The distant figures were starting to notice him.
The Callda shade set up a hideous squawking, as if trying to rally the others to an attack.
"What happens if I can't?"
"Let's not worry about that. You have to prepare-"
"What happens, Skellum?"
Skellum looked miserable. "If they don't tear you to pieces, you'll be trapped here forever, and they'll never stop hunting you. These things-" He waved- "aren't real to anyone but you Chainer, and they're not real anywhere but here. If you want to bring things out of this world, you need to be its master. You need to be the gateway they pass through, as well as the gatekeeper who lets them in or keeps them out." He gave his hat a discreet spin.
Chainers Torment mgc-2 Page 11