" Humph," snorted the sheriff. To his deputies he said, " I won' t need you. Go back to the office, and I' ll be along shortly. And try studying up on those paralysis spells. You were both sloppy back there!"
As they went off into the blackness along the dusty street, the sheriff said to Lan, " They' re good boys. Make damn fine sheriffs one day, if the grey- clads don' t overrun us all first."
" Those soldiers cause more trouble than they' re worth. Just appear and then scare off some thieves, and they think they own the town," said Lan bitterly. His feelings went deeper, but he couldn' t bring himself to say so to the sheriff.
The old man snorted. " You' re the one who' s trouble, Lan. If there' s any more out of you, I' ll reduce you where you stand. I' d hate to do it, but I will."
Lan shivered at the threat. Reduced. Turned into a sizzling spot of grease unrecognizable as human. It wasn' t a complex spell, Lan knew, but it was a highly secret one known only to the sheriff.
" Zarella is a beautiful woman, I' ll grant you that," the old man went on, " but she' s wrong for you. You have terrible tastes in women, Lan. You belong in the country, with a woman who can appreciate the things you do best. Go and enjoy the openness while it' s still there. Those things are taking over all too fast." The sheriff lifted his chin to indicate a pair of the soldiers walking a self- appointed patrol on the other side of the street.
" As you say, Honor, but don' t think this is the end of it. I love Zarella, and I' ll make her see my way. She' s going to marry me one day. Mark it, Honor, she' ll be mine!"
The sheriff shook his head in disgust and left without another word. Lan watched the man shuffle along in the dusty street, jumping just enough to avoid being run over by one of the chuffing Maxwell' s demon- powered auto cars. The sheriff raised his fist and issued a steady stream of invective at the magical- powered car, then vanished into his office, still angrily muttering about the price of progress.
Lan stood alone in the wide, dusty street, and yet he felt imprisoned. The town collapsed around him, and he felt the need to leave it far behind. Jogging along at an easy lope, he left behind the Dancing Serpent and Zarella and a city bulging with unnatural laws and grey- clad soldiers and motorcars holding demons in their guts. The cool night air gusting through his nostrils poured refreshing power into his body like water into a jug. He felt whole again.
" Oh, kyn- alBin, you' re such a lover!" squealed Zarella, sprawled on her huge round bed. She watched with polar eyes as the rotund man dressed. The broad smile playing across his lips told her he would be exceptionally generous this evening.
He' d better be. Having such a pig in bed disgusted her. If he hadn' t been so wealthy, she would have let one of the other pleasure girls have him.
Zarella almost laughed thinking of scrawny Luella with this mountain of fat. He would have suffocated the poor child!
" You' re a gem, Zarella. None like you. Here' s a token of my undying esteem." Zarella' s eyes widened with avarice. She was worldly- wise, but never had she seen such a large drell- gem, easily worth a prince' s ransom. Its rainbow colors filled the room with a cold radiance. She would have stayed the night with a score of demons to gain such a trinket.
" You' re too kind, but then big men have the biggest hearts and:" She let her eyes drop slightly and gave him the chance to mentally finish the rest of her little speech. He was pleased; so was she. It was a business deal like any other. What she had for sale, however, wasn' t open for barter among the usual commodity brokers.
" Till the morrow!" the man said, pleased with her response.
Zarella fell back on the soft bed, holding the drell- gem lightly in the palm of her hand. The depths of the jewel pulled her gaze deeper and deeper until she became lost in the maze of its reflecting planes. It was the most perfect gem she' d ever seen.
Her attention was dragged away by the sound of her door opening. The soft click of the lock brought her to a sitting position. Standing next to her bureau, arms crossed over his muscular chest, stood KynalLyk- Surepta. A vicious sneer marred his good looks.
" What do you want, low- born?" she snapped. He repelled her in a way she didn' t fully understand. That he had joined ranks with the arrogant grey- clad soldiers cast against him, but the distaste ran deeper. He seemed unclean.
" Low- born, is it? Surely you can guess why I' ve come." He towered over her. A hand faster than thought snared the jewel from her palm and held it up to the dimness of the glow- lamp beside her bed. " A drell- gem? A poor one, I' d say. And small, very small. Did DarelLan- Martak give it to you?"
" No. I haven' t seen him since he choked you unconscious. I wish he' d finished you then and there!" She felt a surge of viciousness. To degrade this man meant more to her than her own immediate safety. Besides, one scream would bring four guards able to handle any trouble Kyn- alLyk- Surepta might intend for her.
" Another of your many conquests, then. I think it' s time for you to be shown a real man' s skill." He began stripping off his grey tunic. As he casually tossed it aside, Zarella noticed a tanned leather jerkin next to his skin. The incongruity of the leather with the grey cloth puzzled her. This was something she' d have expected Lan to wear rather than the turncoat soldier.
" Ah, you notice my, hmmm, shall we call it insurance?"
" Insurance? I think you should leave. Already you bore me with your riddles. If you go any further, I might fall asleep from tedium."
He slapped her with the back of his hand. The force of the blow knocked her sprawling across the bed. Zarella tried to escape. A hand gripped a slender white ankle and pulled her back. The man flipped her over and glared at her supine form.
" Don' t ever say a thing like that to me again. I should punish you for what you' ve done this evening. You make a big play for me, then cast me aside. I suspect Dar- elLan- Martak' s been enjoying your charms, hasn' t he? Hasn' t he?"
The man slapped her again, this time with the callused palm of his hand.
Zarella clutched at her brutalized face. Hatred boiled from her eyes. If she' d known the proper spells, Kyn- alLyk- Surepta would have been changed into a bug to be crushed under her heel. But she didn' t. The only course left her was to scream. The guards down the hall would come to her rescue. She would laugh as they quartered this low- born scum and boiled his pieces in thick oil.
His cold words cut off her cry.
" Your four guards are dead. They smile with two mouths." He pulled out a bloodied knife and showed it to her.
" What do you want?" she demanded. For the first time since she was a virgin, Zarella felt fear gnawing at her insides. She didn' t want to die. The fetid odor of death, however, filled her nostrils.
" Isn' t that obvious? Martak humiliates me in front of the entire town. I want revenge." He began running his thumb along the edge of the blade as if to assure himself of its razor- sharpness.
" Why come to me?"
" You' re his woman. I overheard what he said. He wants to marry you, and you weren' t unwilling, just contrary. My revenge on him will be through you."
" So you rape me, is that it? Lan will cut out your liver and eat it raw!"
" No, no, he won' t. I will tell you exactly how clever I am. He can' t really care if I have my way with you or not. A woman of your profession would hardly consider that much in the way of revenge. No, I' ll take my pleasure from you, then kill you."
Zarella went cold from shock. She heard truth ringing in the man' s words. Lips trembling but voice steady, she said, " Lan will track you down. No matter where you hide, he' ll find you. Even in the middle of all your grey- clad soldiers, he' ll kill you."