The master's eyes darted back and forth from Chainer to Skellum. "What do you want?"
Skellum started to speak, but Chainer stopped him with a raised hand. "If I'm supposed to provide information, I want that information. The Cabal has informants everywhere. I want to know what happened to Kamahl the barbarian after he left Cabal City. I want to know where the Mirari is. And," he winked at Skellum, "I want a cut of the proceeds from the match. The betting tables will be busy when we fight. I want my share."
The master's eyes gleamed. "Done," she said.
"We serve the Cabal," Skellum said.
"And the Cabal serves us," Chainer answered. "Now, then. Let's start with where my barbarian friend went. We can figure out what I'm supposed to tell his sister after that."
*****
Veza never received a courier with false information for Ambassador Laquatus. Within two tension-filled weeks of presenting her idea to Empress Llawan, Veza was awakened a few hours before dawn by a ripping crack of thunder from her living room fountain. Veza had reassumed her legs the day after she last spoke to the empress. She climbed out of the tub and ran into the room.
Two cephalid imperial guards were already floating in the air beside a glowing disk of energy that used to be Veza's fountain pool. They were enveloped in liquid blue energy that kept them alive and upright as a third guard came through the portal. The two floating guards assisted him and two more like him into the water. Veza heard the crackle of portal transit, quickly bowed her head, and heard a large splash. She remained bowed until one of the floating guards touched her on the shoulder.
"Your empress awaits," he said. Veza rose, nodded to the guard, and stepped gracefully into the tide pool.
Empress Llawan floated deep, ten feet below the surface at the very limit of Veza's pool. The three tailed merfolk guards floated in formation above her, constantly scanning every possible avenue of attack. They eyed Veza as she descended, but let her pass without comment.
Veza lowered her eyes. "Empress."
"Director Veza. We require your assistance."
"I am at your service, Empress."
"We had our finest mind-rider investigate your notion of eavesdropping on Ambassador Laquatus's link to his familiar.
"Your hypothesis proved correct, Director," Llawan continued. "Congratulations."
"Empress," Veza flushed.
"In fact, it proved even easier to interpret the signals than you projected. Our expert was able to see Laquatus's thoughts quite easily. He has but one thing on his mind lately, an extremely powerful artifact called the Mirari."
Veza nodded. "I had heard such an artifact was uncovered recently. That kind of news even reaches Breaker Bay."
"It was in the hands of the Gabal patriarch. Laquatus happened to be visiting when the artifact arrived. He has done little but connive after it ever since."
Veza started to understand. "Has the Ambassador acquired this artifact?"
"No. Currently, it is in the hands of the Order."
Veza wondered why the empress didn't seem happier about this development. "Is that acceptable, Empress?"
"Barely. The Order are honest and try to be righteous in all things. They are like jellyfish in the hands of someone like Laquatus. It can only be a matter of time before he spirits it away through violence or deceit." Veza waited for the empress to continue. When she didn't, Veza said, "Then Laquatus will bring the artifact to Aboshan." Llawan stared at her for a moment then clicked out a sharp series of screeches to the guard above. The guard checked an instrument strapped to his wrist and nodded to the empress.
"The crystal did not glow, my empress. She is concealing nothing."
Llawan clicked again, and the guards swam off, out into the bay and well out of earshot. They maintained a clear line of sight on both Veza and the empress.
"Forgive us, Director," Llawan said, "but we had to be sure. If you had lied just now, that crystal would have flashed. I have negotiated many a favorable treaty with it by my side."
Veza simply stared uncomprehendingly.
"We can never be too careful when dealing with Laquatus. But now we must be completely frank with you. Aboshan already has the Mirari. Somehow the ambassador managed to get the Mirari away from the Order and into Aboshan's clutches without actually ever taking possession of it himself. The man's an idiot."
"So Aboshan has the artifact?"
"Yes."
"And the empress is worried that he will use it against her?"
Veza was shocked when Llawan laughed out loud. Cephalids made a high-pitched, staccato chattering when they laughed. It was too much for Veza. She burst into laughter as well.
Llawan quickly regained her composure. "If only that were our main concern! Aboshan collects artifacts, but he doesn't understand them. He wouldn't know what to do with a powerful artifact if it came with a guidebook and a tutor. If he gets his tentacles on the Mirari, he'll probably try to eat it.
"No, Director, we are concerned with what Laquatus will do once he has the Mirari. He claims to be working on behalf of the emperor, but he is a greedy and grasping child. It must truly gall him to see the prize that he so badly wanted in the hands of an oaf, and to know that he has no chance of wresting it free. If the thing is as powerful as they say-if it is as powerful as my mind-rider senses, then Laquatus will not allow Aboshan to have it for long. And when he gets it, the next obstacle between an ambassador's sash and the imperial cap is poor, exiled Llawan."
Veza's humor quickly cooled and vanished. "What will the empress do?"
Llawan extended a tentacle and gently took Veza's hand. "We will gather around us those who have served us well. Those who have served us loyally." She dropped Veza's hand and brought her other forelimb forward. On the end she wore a sharpened spike of whale's tooth. "And we will confront the oaf Aboshan. If we can push him, keep him furious and fearful of a renewed civil war, then he will cling tightly to his new toy and never allow Laquatus to take it. The harder the ambassador tries, the tighter Aboshan's grip will grow, and neither of them will be able to use it against us. Eventually, Aboshan will have Laquatus killed." She smiled a politician's smile. " It is never a good idea to be too ambitious when the emperor is feeling insecure. "We ask you to come with us now and stand by our side in the court of the emperor. We ask you to declare yourself as our subject, and to represent our interests. You are wasted here in Breaker Bay. Worse, you are insulted by it. Come with us now, and be our subject. We have thirty executives like yourself and another dozen cephalids of noble birth. We will present ourselves to the emperor and petition him for permission to secede from his empire."
"He will certainly refuse."
"He must. But he will observe the formalities of government. He will cite the existing treaty between us. He will bluster and threaten. He will try to have us killed by assassins, and try to have us executed publicly as traitors. And all that will buy us time."
"Time, Empress? Time for what?"
"To take control of the situation. To drum up more support among the oligarchs and nobles. To turn Laquatus and Aboshan against each other and divide their strength. To take this Mirari for ourselves and rid Mer once and for all of oafs and knaves."
Veza looked up at the surface of the pool above her head. Beyond it was her cottage, her paperwork, and her depot. Beyond that, the village and all its human inhabitants, with all their human tics and prejudices. And somewhere far beyond that was Aboshan, who cared only for the commerce and not at all for the people who conducted it in his name.
"I am yours, Empress Llawan," she said. "What would you have me do?"
Llawan smiled. "Come with us now. We are taking a water portal back to our city, where the imperial transport is being prepared for the journey north. En route, we will discuss statesmanship and strategy."
Veza nodded. "There are a few items I would like to bring along."
"Personal items, Director? This is a time for leaving things behind and starting over."
CHAPTER 13
Chainer caught sight of the pair from the same vantage point he had first spotted Kamahl. He recognized KamahPs sister Jeska and the dwarf Balthor from the descriptions he had and the fact that they arrived together. Now that he saw her, he thought he could have recognized Jeska as one of Kamahl's kin without forewarning.
She was of medium height and build, but she had Kamahl's blazing red hair and brass colored skin. Where Kamahl's was cropped close to his head, Jeska wore her hair long, braided dwarf style into hundreds of finger-thick strands. Each braid was interwoven with ribbons or hide or polished stones, and she had gathered them all in the middle of her back with a heavy iron clip. Chainer recognized a weighted whip when he saw it, but he was impressed with how casually she wore a weapon that most fighters wouldn't recognize.
She also wore a peculiar metal gauntlet that covered her left forearm. It was etched with runes but unpolished, with two small horns at the wrist edge. It looked like a miniature slingshot, but Chainer couldn't quite credit the whole thing as a weapon. He reasoned it was either a sword baffle or some other sort of protective armor.
Finally, she carried a wooden baton that was intricately carved and ringed with metal. It was about as long as her arm, and it looked extremely solid. Her muscles lied about it, as well, effortlessly concealing how dense the baton actually was. In addition to the decorative metal rings, Chainer guessed the baton also had a metal core to give it extra punch.
Jeska carried herself and her weapons with extreme confidence. Her eyes were focused straight ahead, her jaw was set, and her pace was so stern it seemed more like a march than a hike. She didn't even glance at the dwarf by her side, though he matched her stride for stride and never fell out of her peripheral vision.
Balthor was built like all dwarves Chainer had seen, short and broad and gnarled as a stump. His long beard was split into two equal points that fell to his waist, and he wore an ornate headdress with a large red gem at the center. Instead of a fighting axe, he carried some kind of axe-staff that was neither completely weapon nor completely walking stick.
The strange duo was met at the gate by a Cabal representative and escorted into the arena. Chainer waited until the door had shut behind them before he turned from the window and made his way down to the pits.
*****
Several hours later, an oily-looking fixer met Chainer on the staircase.
"You Chainey?" the fixer said. "Chainer."
"Whatever. Come on, let's go. You're on."
The fixer's attitude annoyed Chainer. "What's the rush?"
"They are. The woman's insane, and the dwarf is really cranky. They say they're going to fight now, or they're going to start wrecking the place."
"So? Turn some stalkers and some hellhounds loose on 'em. The Master of the Games said-"
"The Master of the Games just said you should get your butt down to the main pit." He held out a sealed scroll. "See that? It's official. Now come on."
Chainer stood perfectly still. "What's your name, sunshine?"
The oily Cabalist sneered. "Louche," he said.
"Bet all you have on me, Louche. I can't lose."
"Is that so?"
"It is."
"Thanks, kid." Louche had a sarcastic tone that never wavered. Chainer couldn't tell if the fixer knew he was being misled, or if he just didn't care. He gave up trying to argue with a person who negotiated for a living and fell into step behind him.
Louche led him down the main pit floor. The stands were full, everything seemed ready to go. His opponents waited on the far side of the circle.
"Good luck, kid," Louche said, already distracted and moving on to his next assignment.
"You mean that, Louche?"
"Sure. Why not." Louche didn't even look up as he disappeared into the crowd.
Overhead, the prep horn sounded, and Chainer lit his censer. It was to be a straightforward flag match, two against one. Jeska and Balthor would attempt to take or destroy the simple black pennant that was spiked into an eight-foot-tall mound of packed dirt behind Chainer. Chainer would defend the flag. In this case, that meant he would try to stop them but would fail as convincingly as possible.
In the distance, Chainer heard his match being announced, the usual build-up of the fighters and the standard teasers about blood and danger to whip up the crowd. Chainer scanned the rows and rows of eager faces. The smoke was getting thicker around him, and he fought back a rush of dizziness. "Game on," he whispered. He had to stay focused.
The starting horn sounded, and Chainer's opponents came straight at him. They moved well, but they were terribly out of sync with each other. Balthor strode forward with his head and his staff held high, taking strides as smooth and as grand as his stature allowed. Jeska, on the other hand, was hunched low into a battle crouch, her hands free and empty at her sides. Her baton was ready at her hip, and she kept one hand near it as she stared fixedly at the flag behind Chainer.
"Let's finish this quickly." Chainer heard Balthor's impatience through the dwarf's clenched teeth.
"Just hold up your end," Jeska growled back, "and stay out of my way." They were attacking together, but they were not a team. Chainer decided to exploit that.
As they had no long-range weapons, Chainer waited until Jeska and Balthor were a stone's throw from the mound. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, he shuddered, and he threw his arms out, palm-up, at Balthor. There was a flash of black light, and for the briefest moment a purple ring of energy flickered. Through that ring came a three-foot dragonfly with a scorpion's tail. Its multiple wings buzzed with the fury of a full swarm as it shot high above the arena floor and then dove straight down at Balthor, its stinger poised for the kill. Chainer wanted to test himself against Kamahl's sister, and the dragonfly would keep the dwarf busy. The insect would bedevil and sting until the dwarf hacked at it with his axe or his fists. If he injured it, its sticky blood would spurt and foul whatever part of Balthor it touched.
As Chainer expected, Jeska completely ignored the threat that was ignoring her. As the dragonfly homed in on Balthor, she continued straight on at Chainer. Her movements became much sharper and quicker once the action began, and her approach became more like an acrobat's tumbling run. Chainer ditched the censer and drew his dagger, waiting, his stance inviting Jeska to attack.
Behind Jeska, Balthor stood straight as the dragonfly swooped down on him. The gem on the dwarf's headdress glowed, and red fire leaped from the gem to the blade of his axe-staff. Chainer could see Balthor's lips moving. His eyes were shut.
A blast of flame erupted from the head of Balthor's axe and burned the dragonfly to ash in midair. Chainer stood shocked for just a moment, and then dove forward as another blast slammed into the ground near his feet. Before he could get up off his knees, Jeska was above him and her baton was bearing down on his skull. Balthor smugly crossed his arms.
Years with the fighting chain had given Chainer extremely fast hands, and Jeska had badly underestimated his speed. He caught her baton in mid- swing, threw his weight backward, and tossed her back over his head with an assist from his boot. He held onto her hands, so she slammed painfully into the ground. Chainer released her, rolled, and came up with his hands in position. There was another black flash, and a second dragonfly buzzed out and oriented on Jeska. Chainer cursed for repeating himself. Skellum would never let that go. Chainer pushed the thought of his mentor aside, saw that Jeska had not yet regained her feet, and squared off on Balthor. He scooped his dagger up off the arena floor and dared Balthor to come forward with it.
The dwarf could not blast Chainer with Jeska so close behind, but the gem on Balthor's head was still glowing. The old devil was clearly waiting for Chainer's next casting, so he could blast it to cinders. Chainer kept his hands in front of him to keep the dwarf's atten
tion away from the flag. Instead of giving him a target,
Chainer snapped his arm out and sent a weighted black chain singing into Balthor's headdress. The weight smashed through one of the glowing gem's supports and knocked it off center. The gem buzzed and stopped glowing. For the first time since Chainer had laid eyes on him, Balthor looked something other than haughty. He looked downright nervous, maybe even slightly embarrassed.
"You broke his special hat," Jeska called. "He's going to be furious." Despite the dragonfly darting all around her head, Jeska seemed savagely amused. She was keeping the insect at bay with her baton and a vicious barrage of the most obscene threats and language Chainer had heard outside of the city docks.
Chainer whistled. The dragonfly broke off and hovered in the air between them. Chainer jerked his head at Balthor, and the dragonfly buzzed hungrily toward the angry but still shame-faced dwarf.
"So you're looking for your brother," Chainer said. Jeska was not being drawn in by his stance. She had seen him sling a chain at Balthor from twenty feet away, and she didn't seem eager to let him do the same to her.
"I am. You know where he is?"
Chainer sheathed his dagger, touched his hands together, and pulled a ten-foot length of chain with a smooth, weighted end out of thin air. He held the chain out for her to see, then started it dancing around himself.
"I know where he went," Chainer said.
Jeska maintained her stance, daring Chainer with her baton as he had dared Balthor.
"I guess that means I shouldn't kill you," she said. "Tell me, and we can end this now."
Chainer began to circle around Jeska, his weapon in constant motion. "Let's come to an arrangement, you and I," he said. "I have information you want, you have information I want. If you agree to share, I'll let you walk right past me." He looked around the arena. "After we put on a good show, of course."
"I'm not making any deals with you, Cabalist," Jeska spat. "For all I know, that's what my brother did, and that's why I can't find him."
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