Chainers Torment mgc-2 Page 9

  Veza considered. "Do you know why?"

  Laquatus waved his hand dismissively. "Who knows? With animals such as these, it could be a simple matter of murder for hire."

  Veza stopped. "Ambassador. I hope you didn't bring me all the way here from Breaker Bay just to tell me that you suspect the Cabal may be involved."

  "Of course not, my dear." Laquatus put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "And please. Call me Laquatus." He pointed upward and surfaced. When Veza's head broke the surface of the pool, Laquatus said, "I wanted to meet you in person, and I wanted to show you something that will make it easier for us to do so again in the future."

  The ambassador reached a long arm out and traced a circle on the water's surface. He was whispering under his breath, and with each new circle he inscribed, Veza tingled as if the water were conveying a mild electric shock. There was a rip and a crack, and the circle drawn by Laquatus became a disk of energy floating on the pool's surface.

  "This," Laquatus said, "is a transport portal. With it, you can travel from the surface of one body of water to the surface of another. It is one of the great imperial secrets, and in the name of the empire, I share it with you." Across the room, a similar disk of energy appeared in Laquatus's fountain. With a playful grin, he rose up and dove into the disk beside him, instantly coining out of the disk in the fountain. Veza noticed that he had changed back into his legged form in mid- transfer in order to fit in the fountain's pool.

  "From now on," Laquatus called, "if I need to tell you something, or if you need me, we can be together in a matter of seconds. Simply call to me from your mirror, and I will join you or bring you here."

  "I'm flattered, Ambass-Laquatus. But I don't see how this is a significant improvement over the mirror itself."

  Laquatus stepped back into the portal and reemerged with his tail fully formed beside Veza once more. "That's because you limit your thoughts to the task at hand. The empire rewards those who go beyond the call of duty, who take risks. You should be more fluid, Veza. Expand to fill the space around you. It is your nature."

  Laquatus's penetrating eyes burrowed into hers. "I want us to be friends as well as loyal subjects. I want you to visit me as often as you can. I think we have much to offer one another, even beyond our duty to the empire."

  "Of course." Veza blinked. "Have any of your contacts in the Cabal told you who hired the assassins?"

  Laquatus's gaze narrowed. "No. But I will tell you as soon as they have."

  "Thank you, Laquatus." Veza ducked under the glowing disk and swam to the edge of the marble. "I must get back to my duties now." She took her robe from poolside. "Can your transport get me back to Breaker Bay?"

  "Certainly. In this case, that's what it's for." Laquatus waved his hands and the two disks disappeared. He quickly traced another onto the surface of the pool and turned to Veza. "The other portal should be on the surface of Breaker Bay, just outside your cottage." Veza swam back to Laquatus, and he stopped her with a raised hand.

  "I hope," he said, "that you don't feel this trip was for nothing."

  "Not at all. But I am unused to reporting directly to the empress, and I do not want to disappoint her."

  "Impossible," Laquatus said, flashing his most winning grin. Veza nodded. "Long live the empire." "Until we meet again."

  *****

  Laquatus watched Veza dive into the portal and disappear. Damn the little land crawler anyway. Her mind was tight and ordered and clear, but it was also as hard as ice. He could see it, touch it, test it, but he could neither take hold of it nor gain access to it. Like many sea creatures, Veza was immune to all but the most invasive of the ambassador's telepathic probes.

  Laquatus switched back to his legged form and climbed out of the pool. He was not overly concerned. He had cracked tougher minds than Veza's in his time, and she already seemed enamored of his ability to change shape so easily. The more they interacted, the more receptive she would become. If he was careful, he could cultivate her as a political ally and as a scapegoat should anything go wrong.

  For now, he thought, Veza and Llawan both could keep. He put on his robe and mentally signaled Turg. The games were about to start, and it was time for the eventual winning team to scout the competition.

  CHAPTER 9

  Chainer helped Kamahl find the location of the barbarian's first bout, then disappeared into the crowd. Kamahl was slowly warming to Chainer's presence, but Chainer took the first opportunity he could to break away.

  He wanted to watch Kamahl fight from a clear vantage point, to see how good the mountain warrior really was. Chainer also wanted to avoid the centaur Kamahl had been given as a partner. Chainer didn't like centaurs, and he didn't trust himself to treat the man-horse as tactfully as the First required.

  So he stood in the spot with the best view he knew, up against the railing in the mezzanine. When Kamahl and the centaur teamed up against a Cabal dementia caster, Chainer was honestly impressed. Kamahl was much more careful in his application of force than any barbarians Chainer had heard about. He was devastating in combat, but he was also in control. The centaur seemed competent enough, but it was Kamahl who finished off their opponent with some kind of exploding axe. It was marvelous.

  Chainer gladly joined in the cheers for the victor. As he'd expected, the fixers had put long odds on the unknown warrior from the mountains, and anyone smart enough to put a bet down on Kamahl more than quadrupled their money. Chainer himself earned a tidy sum.

  Until the moment Kamahl's bout started, he hadn't felt the rush of being in the pits again, hadn't recaptured the simple joy of combat. No wonder he'd felt uninvolved. The games had been lackluster, he was on an important assignment from the First, and he was unarmed except for a thrice-damned ornamental dagger. Watching Kamahl brought it all back for him. The elegant simplicity of the contest, the concrete rewards of developing one's skills, the pride of a well-fought victory, these things were missing from an apprentice's life.

  Chainer picked his way through the crowd back to Kamahl's side and congratulated him personally. The centaur had trotted off to comb the nettles out of its tail or some such thing. Chainer was only glad it was gone.

  *****

  Chainer and Kamahl were watching Turg tear apart a Krosan dragonette when the alarm sounded. The barbarian reacted a split second before the Cabalist, but both were up before the sentries blew a second warning.

  "Something big is coming," Chainer said. "That's the full-on alert klaxon."

  Kamahl grunted and unsheathed one of his throwing axes. "Come on, then. Let's go kill something big."

  Chainer paused, trying to sort out competing priorities. The First had told him to stick with Kamahl, but the Cabal was under attack.

  Chainer watched a pitiful few Cabalists standing firm against the crush of warriors and spectators trying to escape. The Master of the Games had lost all control.

  "You go," Chainer said to Kamahl. "I can do more good in here." Kamahl nodded, and without a second glance charged off into the bedlam.

  Chainer watched him go with a kind of jealousy. The barbarians had it good, he thought. All they needed was something to fight and their path became clear. Chainer didn't know what Kamahl was running off to confront, but then neither did Kamahl, and Chainer longed for that kind of abandon. Perhaps he should have been born in the mountains.

  Chainer pulled the ceremonial dagger from his hip, tucked it into his shirt, and sprinted back toward his quarters. He would never throw away anything the First had given him, but he would be damned if he were going to wear it one second longer than he had to.

  And while he could not stop the First from simply giving the Mirari away, Chainer vowed that he would stop anyone who tried to steal it from the prize cache.

  *****

  Very few people took notice of a single, determined, unarmed young man as he dodged panicky civilians and hurdled slow-moving monsters. Two who did notice sat in a darkened room, deep inside the First's manor, staring
into a scrying pool.

  "He's going to get his weapons. His chain and dagger," Skellum said.

  "Yes," the First answered.

  "I should go to him. He's at a very dangerous stage of his training right now. A small error in judgment could cost him his life- and the Cabal a lot more." "And yet," the First said, "if he displays sound judgment, he'll take a great leap forward. He and the Cabal would both profit."

  "Very true, Pater." Skellum waited for a moment. "May I go to him?"

  "Stay with me a while longer," the First said. "Let us roll the bones with your young pupil there. You can't properly evaluate a student if his mentor never stops mentoring."

  "The First is wise." Skellum anxiously watched Chainer in the scrying pool. He hadn't thought of it before, but the First usually watched the games from his private box that floated high above the arena, or he didn't watch them at all. The only reason to call Skellum in to join him for a private viewing was to keep him away from Chainer.

  The First also watched Chainer in the scrying pool, ignoring Skellum for the moment. Then, he said, "Everything is working out perfectly."

  Skellum knew that the next few minutes would either make his pupil great or break him down into a gibbering husk. Barred from action, Skellum's mind raced through all the potential outcomes of Chainer's impromptu trial by fire. And though he swam on the shores of nightmare and kept the creatures he found there in his pocket, Skellum realized he was afraid.

  *****

  Chainer ran toward the prize vault with renewed confidence. With his chain and his dagger, he felt fully dressed again. A tiny seed of inspiration had also led him to grab the censer and a few discs of Dragon's Blood.

  He turned down the last long hallway that led to the vault and narrowed his eyes. There was already a skirmish going on outside the vault. Two Cabalist humans were grappling with a pair of reptilian pirates, dressed for the sea, and a blue-robed illusionist. Chainer recognized Deidre, the long-nailed door guard, but the other, more simian Cabalist was unknown to him.

  The illusionist was bedeviling Chainer's brethren with the image of a small sea monster and a swarm of stinging faeries. Chainer guessed the illusions were as convincing as the real thing when looked at head on, but he could see straight through them. The mage must have cast the illusion so that it only affected the guards in front of her.

  Big mistake, Chainer thought. Without slowing, he broke out the full length of his chain and started spinning it overhead. When he was in range, he let out a whoop. The illusionist turned just in time to catch Chainer's rounded weight square in the temple. The sea monster and the faerie faded as the illusionist swooned and fell.

  "She's not dead," Chainer said to the pirates. He spoke extra loud, for the record the First would surely make of this incident.

  "You soon will be," one of the pirates hissed. Neither of the raiders looked comfortable with the sudden shift in the odds. As the pirate who spoke raised his short spear, the other continued to wrestle with the simian guard.

  The spear never flew. Once the pirate had raised it to his ear, Deidre's razor fingers exploded out of the center of his chest. Ice-blue blood poured from the wound, and the reptilian looked down stupidly at Deidre's hand. She yanked it back with a rough jerk, and the pirate dropped to the now-slick floor beside the illusionist.

  Deidre smiled at Chainer. "That one's dead," she said, and then she turned and drove her nails into the remaining pirate's spine with a vicious thrust of her right hand. The simian Cabalist continued to wrestle with the lifeless reptile until he realized Deidre had ended his fun. He grunted in exasperation and cast the dead pirate aside.

  The unconscious illusionist groaned, and Chainer looked from her to her dead companions to Deidre's brutal smile.

  "You killed them," he said.

  "That's what I do, little brother." Deidre flicked a drop of blue blood off her index finger.

  The noises from other battles echoed down the long hallway, but Chainer was too annoyed to mind them. "I got chewed out by the First himself for killing a bird. A bird! And you butcher two pirates in the blink of an eye and stand there smiling? How fair is that?"

  Deidre laughed, and Chainer hadn't realized how disturbing it was to see a tall, beautiful woman smile when she had three eyes and blue blood dripping from both hands.

  "The First told us to kill anyone who tries to get through this door," she pointed at the entrance to the vault room. "And if the First says so, it's fair."

  Chainer considered. "Anyone?"

  "Anyone."

  "Including me?"

  "Including you, little brother. You're part of anyone, aren't you?"

  Chainer spooled his chain around his wrist and took out the censer. "If you don't mind, big sister, I'll go back to the mouth of the corridor and make sure no one else comes down here to rush the vault."

  "Please yourself," Deidre said. She rapped the simian Cabalist with her knuckles and gestured to the door. "We'll be here as ordered, just on the off chance that someone gets past you. And little brother?"

  "Yes?" Chainer waited.

  "You can kill 'em if you want to." Deidre laughed a raucous, unpleasant laugh that made Chainer's blood run cold. As he retreated back down the corridor and the two guards retook their positions on either side of the door, Chainer reminded himself to stay on Deidre's good side.

  He lit a charcoal disc, then loaded the censer with Dragon's Blood. The thick smoke soon filled the narrow hallway, and

  Chainer began to swing the censer around his head, as Skellum had shown him.

  Shouts of battle and screams of pain were echoing throughout the arena, but Chainer focused on the spinning censer and the smoke. Skellum had told him that dementia summoning was all about vision. What you saw, when and how you saw it. If you could see beyond the world around you, you could leave it behind and take yourself to the new place you'd created. Chainer stared at the pewter cage as it flew and smoked, breathing evenly. There were a dozen ways to reach dementia space, and Skellum explained them all in detail. Breathing, stance, concentration, stamina, all of these things and more could affect the end result of a dementia caster's work. Perhaps the old man thought he could give Chainer too much information, could confuse or discourage him from trying what he was about to try. Chainer grinned at the thought. He had an excellent memory, and while he didn't think he could produce a full-fledged dementia monster, he did remember enough of Skellum's lessons to defend the hallway.

  Chainer heard the booted tread of an armed party heading his way, but he couldn't see them for the smoke. Deidre and the simian were too far behind to offer advice, but Chainer knew of one sure way to determine friend from foe.

  "The Cabal is here," he called.

  "Not for long," came the gruff reply. "Swords." Chainer heard multiple blades scraping out of multiple scabbards. "For Kirtar. For the Order." There was a bright flash, and Chainer could make out three glowing blades just beyond the miniature fog bank he had created. Behind the advancing boots, Chainer heard something heavy dragging its feet across the floor.

  Chainer focused on the smoke, slowly becoming lost in its oily feel against his skin, the stifling odor, and the painful tears it brought to his eyes. He continued to breathe as Skellum had taught him, always fighting the impulse to cough. The marching feet drew closer.

  Above their rhythm Chainer heard the whistling of the chain as it slashed through the air. He reached higher above his head, even going up on his tip toes to elevate the censer as high as he could.

  Three members of the Order came slowly but steadily through the smoke, their gleaming swords out in front of them like torches. Chainer was gratified to see that they were crouching slightly, on guard like good toy soldiers ought to be. It gave him more clearance above their heads. He let the chain out another two feet as it spun, so that the Order were inside its radius.

  "Who's there?" said the shortest of the three figures. He wore officer's robes and was the one with the gruff voice who ha
d answered Chainer. "In the name of the Order, stand aside!" A tall, manlike figure loomed out of the smoke behind him.

  "I'll stand aside," Chainer called, "but you're coming with me." He closed his eyes and remembered the feel of the place Skellum had showed him. Lightheaded, he felt his balance evaporate. He might have been falling forward or backward, down or up.

  He remembered what Skellum had forced him to describe before he had ever seen it. The blasted landscape, the threatening skies. Chainer saw a whole world of his own that was just waiting for him to come and claim it. Yet it was tantalizingly out of reach, and all Chainer could do was imagine it.

  He felt his stomach drop and suffered an extreme wave of vertigo. He opened his eyes. The hallway, the vault, and the entire building were gone. Chainer stood in a circle of smoke on an endless black sand desert. Three soldiers and a huge limestone golem were with him. The sky above was an unbroken field of sickening mustard yellow, and a bruise-colored moon shone overhead. Opposite the moon was a hole in the sky, and from the jagged hole poured a blood-red river that was slowly creating an inland sea.

  Chainer and the Order soldiers alike stared upward, disoriented and hesitant. The limestone golem shuffled forward, oblivious to the change in location. It stood well over eight feet, so

  Chainer's censer was impeded. The cage clanged noisily off its cheek and bounced on the wall and floor several times before Chainer got it back under control. The world flickered around them, flashing between the vault hallway and the black desert.

  Once Chainer recovered the censer's momentum, the alien landscape returned and stayed. The interruption, however, snapped the officer with the gruff voice out of his awestruck daze.

  "Forward," he barked at the golem. He stepped behind the limestone man and began following it like a shield. "Fall in behind me," he said, and the other soldiers quickly lined up. Single file, the strange procession slowly made its way toward Chainer.