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"Thank you, Pater."

"Thank you, Master," Chainer whispered. Skellum glared at him, but winked also.

"There is one final thing," the First said, "concerning the Mirari. Doubtless by now you are both aware that my predictions came true. The Mirari led to major upheavals in both the Order and Mer, and then it came back to us. I made one error, however. I expected the past few months to thin the field, as it were, but just the opposite is true. More and more people are following its trail, which will lead them here. This is both good and bad for the Cabal. Even as we speak, the crusat death squads are reforming in an effort to drive us out of our strongholds. Cabal City, Aphetto… even our minor pits in no-name villages are being targeted. They make the same old claims. We corrupt the innocent, mock the law, and generally impede the Order's righteous progress.

"The era of coexistence is over. When you return from shikar, you both will assist me in neutralizing the crusat threat." "With pleasure, Pater."

Skellum whispered teasingly to Chainer, "A dementist at last." "Ambassador Laquatus also continues to seek the Mirari. Today he contacted one of the crusat officers to sound him out for an alliance against us. It would be best if we could fix his attention elsewhere while we sort out the Order problem ourselves." "We could postpone shikar, Pater."

"No, Skellum. Chainer's apprenticeship is over. It's time we made that official."

"You have something in mind, Pater?"

"I do. Since Laquatus will not stop complicating the situation until he gets a crack at the Mirari, I will announce the next games immediately. They will be held in three month's time, to coincide with the anniversary of the founding of Cabal City. The Mirari will be the grand prize, awarded to the strongest fighter in the pits. Laquatus is currently in need of a thrall. Apparently his amphibian was killed along with Aboshan. With the games scheduled, he will redouble his efforts to find a replacement thrall. This alone would not be enough to occupy a busy mind like Laquatus's, but this on top of… other circumstances I have yet to arrange… it will more than suffice.

"Chainer, I want you to meet with the ambassador to determine what sort of creature he wants. Promise him anything, but do nothing without my permission. In three days you and Skellum will begin the shikar. We will ask Laquatus to wait until you return before you create this new thrall for him."

"Laquatus will have more and better options for his thrall after Chainer experiences shikar," Skellum said.

"So much the better. Chainer. You have been a valued and trusted servant of the Cabal. Are you ready to be rewarded and carry our cause even further?"

"I am, Pater."

"Outstanding."

The First waved his hand dismissively. "The Cabal is everywhere," he said, "and so are my thoughts. You may leave me now to my meditation, my children."

The First watched Skellum and Chainer go through dry, milky eyes. Before they were even out of the room, his thoughts folded in on themselves as he dissected each infinitesimal bit of information.

Apart from Kamahl's refusal, everything was right where the First wanted it. The barbarian was absolutely devastating in combat and always made for a good show. He was also useful as an influence on Chainer. Skellum was in danger of spoiling the boy, blunting his killer instinct. Kamahl encouraged that rough, pragmatic side of Chainer, qualities he was going to need over the next three months.

The First came back to himself. Yes, the longer he considered it, the more sure he became. Skellum should stand aside and let Kamahl complete Chainer's training. With his mentor at his side, Chainer would simply become another Skellum. Teamed with Kamahl, he would return from shikar as the ancient ritual intended, as a hunter. A predator. A dangerous adversary and a valuable friend.

The First waved and a skull attendant came forward. "The mentor must set his pupil aside," he said, and the attendant copied the words onto a tablet she wore on a cord around her neck.

A knock sounded from outside the chamber. The First called, "Enter," and a hand attendant came forward bearing a silver mirror on a silk pillow. The First waved the attendant forward, and the shuffling man ascended the throne. He held the mirror up to the First's face, abjectly turning his aside.

In the mirror, a cephalid's face filled the screen. "Hail to you, Cabal Patriarch."

"You honor me, Empress Llawan. How fares the empire?" "It fares well. Have you considered our proposal?" "I have, Empress. I have not yet reached a decision." "But you will continue to extend your… hospitality to Ambassador Laquatus?" "As we agreed."

Llawan turned one eye to the mirror. "And the Cabal will remain neutral as we transition back into public service?"

"The Cabal has no interest in the internal affairs of the Mer empire," the First assured her. "Our relationship with all concerned parties is merely professional."

"Very well," Llawan pulled back, framing her face in the mirror. "But remember that relationships with the deep are not like those on dry land. You don't build a relationship like a house, you ride it like a wave. The wave is always changing, always moving. You must be very careful when you get off, or on."

The First smiled graciously. "Words I have already taken to heart. We have far more in common than you suspect, Empress." "We hope so, Patriarch. We hope so." Llawan's image faded. The First dismissed the mirror-bearing attendant, steepled his fingers under his chin, and sat in silent meditation for a time. When he next moved, it was to speak to his attendants. "Send for the Master of the Games."

*****

"Veza," Laquatus said. "This is truly a most unexpected surprise. I came to collect the empress's survey data. I didn't expect to collect her pet mermaid as well."

The captain and crew had resisted when Laquatus removed the recording crystal, but they were easily subdued by the ambassador's human mercenaries. Each, had been armed and enchanted for underwater work, and Veza recognized several pirate clan tattoos among them. There was also some kind of living statue that had taken Turg's place at Laquatus's side.

"Take Director Veza to my ship," Laquatus said. "Bind the others and put them in the brig. I want this leviathan gutted and towed back to where it came in."

"Can we feed 'er to the rays, sir?"

"By all means. But save the head carapace. Hang it at the mouth of the chasm as a warning." Laquatus followed Veza as she was led out. She saw him whisper something to the purple statue, and the statue nodded, then stayed behind.

They led her to Laquatus's ray, where they untied her wrists and feet and locked her in a chamber. Before too long, Laquatus himself came to join her.

"I must apologize," he said, "but we are inches away from a fullblown civil war. I had actually hoped the information from your survey would calm some of the passions that are running so high. Alas, it seems that this chasm is another item Llawan and I must quarrel over." He stared hard at Veza. "Have you become more fluid, my dear, as I suggested?"

"If you mean, am I ready to join your side, the answer is no."

"I don't think you've thought this through, so I'll give you another chance to answer." Laquatus leaned forward to clear a floating strand of hair out of Veza's face, but she swatted his hand aside. He smiled.

"Why are you so loyal to the empress? She sent you into harm's way through sheer ignorance. She is not worthy of your loyalty. And besides, she holds no such love for you or any of our kind." " 'Our kind,' Ambassador? What is our kind?" "The adaptable," he said instantly. "Those of us who can respond quickly to changing circumstances. Those of us who continually define ourselves." He crouched next to her where she sat. "Let me help you, Veza. Trust in me half as much as you trust in Llawan, and I will never abandon you, as she has." "Llawan has not abandoned me."