"Hasn't she?" Laquatus brought a blue mirror out of his robe. He held it before his face and said, "Empress Llawan?"
The empress's face soon appeared. "What do you want, pretender?" "I have captured your spy vessel in Otaria Chasm. Your ship and its crew will be executed at dawn."
"If you damage a single scale on our leviathan," Llawan raged, "we will crucify you on the ocean's floor."
Laquatus glanced at Veza, making sure she was listening to the exchange. "What's that, Your Majesty? No concern for the crew?" "If you have taken our crew, then they are already dead." "Not at all, Empress." He turned the mirror to face Veza. "Your valued advisor from Breaker Bay is chatting with me now." Laquatus gave the two women the briefest glimpse of each other before turning the mirror back to his own face. "Will you barter for her life, at least?"
"We grow weary of your voice, Laquatus. If you have a point, make it."
"A trade. The leviathan and the mermaid in exchange for the chasm."
Llawan clicked angrily. "No. We are sorry to lose our leviathan and our friend Veza. But we will come for their bodies soon, Laqua-tus, and when we do, you will surely fall. This audience is over." Laquatus smiled at the darkened glass and casually placed the mirror back in his robes. He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to Veza.
"I'd say you are officially abandoned, Director. So now, the question is to you." A knock sounded, and Laquatus's featureless man came in with a heavy sack over his shoulder.
"Will you take my hand and help the Mer empire reach the very pinnacle of its power and prestige?" He took the sack from his servant. "Thank you, Burke.
"Or will you remain loyal to Llawan, who has endangered and abandoned you?" Laquatus opened the sack and pulled it away from its contents. The heads of the leviathan's bridge crew floated freely in the chamber between Laquatus and Veza. "I apologize for the rudeness of the message, but the question is pressing. Who shall you serve?"
Veza looked at the ghastly display, then Burke's expressionless face, then Laquatus's confident smile.
"If the chasm has a hidden value," she said, "I can help you secure it."
"Excellent." Laquatus extended his hands, and Veza rose to take them. "We should begin at once."
CHAPTER 17
Skellum made the short walk from the manor to the academy. He was looking forward to his dinner, but he was looking forward to the shikar with Chainer even more. He had trained dozens of young Ca-.balists, one at a time, and he was usually somewhat melancholy at this stage of the program. The vast majority of his students never went on shikar. Instead, they were hurled into the pits as soon as they could reliably create monsters, an arrangement that served the Cabal's needs for warm bodies in the pits far better than it served Skellum's perfectionist nature. Chainer, however, would be his crowning achievement as a Master Dementist.
The First had meddled, as he always did, but Skellum knew that in this case the First's interest was well justified. He had something special in mind for Chainer from the very beginning, and though Skellum could only guess at what that might be, he was proud to have been a part of it. He was proud of his student, proud of his program, and proud of himself.
The Master of the Games was waiting outside of Skellum's office with a fixer Skellum recognized as Louche and a pair of hulking stalkers.
"The Cabal is here," Skellum called.
"Do you recognize this seal?" The Master of the Games stiffly handed Skellum a scroll with an ornate wax seal on it.
"It's from the First."
"Read it, please."
Skellum took the scroll and scanned it. It was a short statement, and it didn't take him long. He read it twice, then looked up at the Master of the Games.
"Is this a joke?"
"No joke, Master Skellum. The First has requested you to take your student's place in the pits this evening."
"But I'm not a-"
"He knew you would understand."
Skellum's ire began to rise, and the Master of the Games took a step back.
"I will see the First now," Skellum said. He looked up at the stalkers, one a saber-toothed ogre and the other a half-zombified merman with three crushing octopus tentacles on each shoulder instead of arms. The ogre, still alive and alert, took a step back from the smaller man's glare.
"Very well," said the Master of the Games, and she hurled a handful of grayish powder in Skellum's face. His hat blocked most of it, but enough got through to cover his eyes and clog his nose and throat. Skellum swooned but did not fall. With his cape wrapped around his arm, he took two staggering steps forward, as elegantly as he could, and pressed his back against the wall. Then he slid to the floor, unconscious.
"Forgive me, Master Skellum." The First stood alone in his private chambers, surrounded by black candles. Skellum straightened his cape and got to his feet.
"I'm afraid I really must insist," the First was saying. "You must trust in me. This will be for the best."
"But I've done nothing wrong. I've been a valued and loyal servant all my life."
The First came forward. "And you shall remain so, even after death."
Skellum looked around the darkened room. It was far too lonely and silent without all the guards and attendants.
"Pater," he said. "I don't understand."
"You don't have to, my son. I do." The First offered his hand to Skellum, and the dementist recoiled.
"Go ahead," the First urged. "None of this is real, and no harm can come to you."
"Pater, I-"
"Take my hand, Cybariss."
Skellum woodenly stepped forward and took hold of the First's cold, gray fingers. There was no pain. There was no stench. None of the things that were rumored to occur when someone touched the First happened.
"You see?" The First smiled. He pulled Skellum in close in a full, two-armed hug.
"Go now," the First whispered. "Obey me. Honor the Cabal, and serve Kuberr."
"I will, Pater."
"Outstanding."
The First released his hand, and Skellum fell back, into a soft, silent void of darkness and mist.
"Master Skellum."
Skellum opened his eyes. Louche, the Master of the Games, and the stalkers were looming over him.
"Are you ready to go now?"
"I am," Skellum said. He gave his hat a test spin and gracefully rose to his feet. He brushed a few imaginary bits of fluff from his cape as they led him out the front door and back toward the pits, keeping his head high, his eyes clear, and his pace measured. He was determined that no one who saw him would have the slightest idea that he was a prisoner.
"Ladies and gentlemen, making his triumphant return to the Cabal City pits… Master Skellum!"
Skellum stood alone in the pits. At least they hadn't called him "caster."
"Joining Skellum, and fresh from her recent tour of the deepest parts of the Mer empire… Caster Fulla!"