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Chainer leaned over the side of the platform with a dizzy grin on his face. All of the contestants had been assembled in the main pit below, and it was literally full of hundreds of humans and monsters crammed together under Chainer's box. Down there, they were waiting. Up here, he simply was, and would be until he decided to start the action.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and others!" The announcer's voice was much louder up here than it was at ground level. "Welcome to the Mirari Games." A small cheer went up through the crowd.

"Today we have something truly unique in store for you. The largest collection of fighters in the world has gathered for the right to claim the Mirari, the sphere of wonder. There will be only one winner. There-" A bolt of lightning shot up from the floor into the magical apparatus that amplified the announcer's voice, and his introduction sputtered and choked. Intrigued, Chainer peered more closely at the tall figure standing alone at the center of the only clear space on the arena floor.

"Murderer," the figure cried, his voice echoing like a gong. "Destroyer of the innocent. The Order is here for retribution."

"I know, justicar," Chainer said softly. "I've been counting on it."

Justicar Gobal's hood and robe had been burned off by his initial blast, and he stood sparkling and crackling in his polished armor. Beside him, three more robed figures cast off their outer garments to reveal terrible, white-winged angels armed with flaming swords. All around the arena, other fighters began to unsheathe their weapons. Others who were wiser, or perhaps more cowardly, quickly tried to exit the arena.

"Your attack on our hospital killed more than healers and wounded soldiers. It killed the angels. In their place, Angels of

Retribution have arisen. Your end comes now, Cabalist." The jus-ticar pointed his hand at Chainer, and the angels took wing. The justicar sent another bolt of lighting up toward Chainer's platform. The platform was thoroughly warded against all types of attack, however, and the justicar's bolt faded into nothingness before it ever touched Chainer.

"Oh, no," Chainer said dramatically. "Angels and justicars! The Order has come for me! Whatever shall I do?" He focused on the Mirari back in his chamber, concentrated, and every door in the huge arena slammed shut and melted into the wall around it. His eyes were long gone, and his voice boomed out louder than the announcer's. "Come one, come all. The Mirari awaits. Who is strong enough to take it from me?"

*****

Veza was poring over a scroll when Burke entered her chamber. The gel man wore a small, circular hand mirror around his neck, and from it came Laquatus's voice.

"Please follow my jack," Laquatus said. "There is something! want you to see."

Burke kept pace as Veza swam through the ship. She noticed that his hands and feet became flatter and wider when he swam, and he stayed by her side easily no matter how fast she went. She stole as many glances at his expressionless face as she dared, searching in vain for some flicker of recognition, or at least independence. Burke was as inscrutable as a mask.

Laquatus had taken to filling his command ship with air, both for his mercenaries and in case anyone tried to teleport in. A cephalid assassin would find himself floundering on the floor as soon as he arrived, and they would drown without so much as touching Laquatus. Veza and Burke stepped into the chamber, and Laquatus greeted Veza with a warm, loud call.

"Hello, Director. I'm about to contact the former empress to discuss terms of her surrender."

Veza's eyes darted to the viewscreen, which showed the exact same standoff she had seen for the past week. Laquatus nodded, Burke gently nudged her forward, and Veza took the seat Laquatus offered her. "Get Llawan on the scrying screen," Laquatus said. He took out his own hand mirror, and Veza watched him whisper into it. She could see a thin man with braided black hair, but she did not recognize him and could not hear his voice. Finally, Laquatus said, "Done. A pleasure doing business with you, as always. And may I add, congratulations on your recent ascension." He paused while the other man spoke. "After today, you will be able to offer me similar sentiments." The mirror went dark, and he put it away with a smug little smile.

"We have the empress, my lord."

"Excellent. Put her on, and have the troops in the chasm stand by."

Llawan appeared in the screen, with the mystic Olsham-his eyes closed-and another cephalid officer at her side. "What do you want, Laquatus?"

"Greetings, Empress. I hope you are well. Isn't it a fine day?"

Veza's dread was like physical pain. She didn't know what Laquatus was up to, but she guessed he had been preparing for it since before he captured the survey vessel. She continued to stare at Olsham, willing the mystic to hear her silent message of warning.

"Speak, irritant. You waste our time."

"This is something in the nature of an official call, I'm afraid. I'm here to offer terms."

"Then you will abandon this farce and submit yourself to imperial justice?"

"Actually, Empress, I was going to offer you one last chance to surrender. You have already lost here. If you leave now, and cede the chasm to me, I will spare you the embarrassment of losing each and every one of your loyal guards. I may even spare your life."

Llawan chittered. "You are a fool, Laquatus. We mock you and spurn your offer."

"Are you sure?" Laquatus's obvious joy twisted Veza's stomach, but Llawan was unimpressed. She began to turn away from the screen.

"Inform the troops," Laquatus said loudly. "Launch an all-out attack on the empress's forces. Begin immediately."

Llawan paused and shook her head. "Your ego has finally grown past the point of your good sense," she said. "But the imperial guard will be happy to accommodate your lunacy."

The occupants of both vessels heard the sounds of renewed combat. Llawan stared grimly at Laquatus, who stared, smiling at Llawan. Veza fought the urge to cry out to Olsham. Whatever was about to happen, the empress's ship would be better off if it were intangible, as her transport had been during the catastrophe that created the chasm.

Olsham opened his eyes. Veza was the only one on board who had seen the empress's shield defenders in action, and so she was the only one who saw their almost transparent bodies stream up and encircle the empress. They did nor harden into their defensive formation, but they stood by, ready to do so.

"Forgive me, Empress," said the yacht's cephalid captain. "But I think you should see this."

Llawan turned, and Laquatus's bridge had a clear and unobstructed view of Llawan's, complete with the image that appeared on its scrying viewscreen. Both bridges stared silently at the images they saw. On Llawan's screen, a steady stream of dark, serpentine figures was pouring out of the chasm and surging forward to attack Llawan's troops. There were thousands of them, a multitude. Along with the ambassador's mercenaries and monsters, they slammed into the empress's line like a crashing wave, and slowly drove it back.

When the empress spoke, it was to her crew, her voice thick with anger.

"What are we looking at?"

"I don't know, Empress. Those creatures seem to be corning from just outside the chasm rather than inside it."

Llawan turned back to Laquatus. "They attack our loyal guards. What are they? What do they want?"

Veza stared as the skirmish grew steadily bigger. Her memory had been jogged by the sight. She remembered a Cabal barge that docked in Breaker Bay some years ago. The Cabalists had set up a makeshift arena and staged a fighting demonstration. A wild- eyed woman with green eyes and a bald head challenged all comers, and she had beaten every one. Not her, Veza corrected herself. The monsters she created.