"Master Skellum," the First said formally. "Whose secret name is Cybariss. Welcome."
"The Cabal is here, Pater."
"And everywhere."
Chainer's life froze when the First turned and met his eyes. He had seen the First once before, but he had not seen him in such detail or in such raiment. He was dressed now in black hide, cured and tanned until it was as stiff as glass. His clothing seemed coated in a thin film of oil, especially at the elbows and shoulders. In this simple businesslike robe, head unadorned, he seemed somehow more intimidating than he did in full headdress and regalia.
"Apprentice Chainer. Whose secret name is Mazeura. Welcome." The First was old, but not wizened. His skin was gray and smooth as stone.
Chainer heard a voice from very far away mutter, "The Cabal is here, Pater," and then realized it was his own.
"And everywhere." The First's eyes were milky white, but this indicated an increased facility rather than a diminished one. It was said that the First could see through a person's soul as easily as he could through walls. The gray-white orbs darted and focused around the room.
"I understand you have something for me." From the far end of the room, the First stretched out his hand, palm up, and one of his attendants bearing the skeletal hand standard approached Chainer. "I will have it now, Mazeura."
The attendant's eyes were blank and glassy as the man waited to receive Chainer's package. Chainer hesitated only long enough to glance at Skellum. He had been determined to put the sphere directly into the First's hands, but it seemed these people were his hands. Chainer untied the drawstring on his satchel and held the sphere at arm's length, so that it hovered six inches above his hand. The sphere floated from over Chainer's hand to the hand-attendant's. Numbly, the man turned and carried the sphere to the First.
Chainer did not breathe while the First examined the sphere.
"Remarkable," he said at last. Balancing it over his right hand, the First gestured with his left. Two more of the hand-attendants came forward, bearing a sturdy black box with runes engraved in a band around its lid. The First placed the sphere inside the box, closed the lid, and muttered a few words. The lock flashed, the seam between the lid and the box disappeared, and the attendants carried the sealed cube away.
The First turned to face Chainer. "Remarkable," he repeated. He regarded the younger man, a finger tapping his upper lip. "You call yourself Chainer."
"Yes, Pater."
"Chainer. You have my thanks. Such a treasure, freely given. Do you have any idea what it is?"
"No, Pater."
The First touched his temple, and one of the skull-standard attendants stepped forward. "I think I might."
To the attendant, he said, "Make a note. I want Chainer summoned to me again when we've determined exactly what his treasure is. I want him to know as soon as we do." The attendant nodded, bowed, and stepped back.
The First glanced over at Skellum, and then stared hard at Chainer.
"I wonder, Chainer," he said, "if you would have beaten such a path to my study if you'd known exactly how powerful that sphere is. Either you are very loyal or very unobservant."
Chainer felt the back of his neck go cold. "I am your obedient child."
The First stepped behind Chainer, his attendants trailing behind him. Some of the guards shifted their positions in response to the First's movement.
"Or maybe," he continued, "you did know how powerful it was, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before it found its way to me. So you sought my favor by bringing it here directly."
Chainer felt dizzy. He caught Skellum's warning stare and choked on silence.
"Bringing it here directly," the First mused, "and en route attacking one of my children, hijacking my communications network, and killing an officer of the Order to get it here. All this for something whose value you could not precisely estimate."
The First left Chainer shaking and nauseated as he glided over to Skellum, surrounded by a silent swarm of attendants and guards.
"Master Skellum. I hope that your apprentice's sphere is very valuable indeed. It may have already cost us a great deal."
"In all fairness, Pater," Skellum's voice was as deep and as rich as molasses, "it was only an Order officer's pet he killed."
The First scowled. "A pet."
"Yes, Pater. I may have spoken imprecisely earlier. It was not the officer my apprentice killed, but his war bird."
Chainer went freshly cold as the First turned and peered at him again. The First glared at him for a moment through cloudy eyes, then snapped the fingers on each hand twice and reached forward with his right hand toward Chainer. All six hand-attendants came forward and ushered Chainer forward. He offered no resistance as they led him forward, stopping just outside the Cabal lord's reach.
The First towered over Chainer and took one step closer. His voice was calm, barely above a whisper. "You know what we do here, apprentice. You are at least familiar with how the Cabal operates." Close up, Chainer could feel the nauseous aura that surrounded the First. Standing in his presence was like standing on the edge of a bottomless pit. There was a sick odor about the First, as well. Not a foul smell, but the sour waft of ashes from a sickroom fireplace.
"The Cabal, Apprentice." Chainer's eyes darted to Skellum, then back to the First. "Tell me now what the Cabal does."
"We survive," Chainer answered immediately. Like every Cabal-ist, he had gone through the Cabal's cram indoctrination program and knew the routine of call-and-response by heart.
The First took another step forward, and Chainer began to feel physically ill, and he knew it wasn't just his nerves. His throat and nostrils were becoming raw, as if he'd been breathing smoke.
"We survive," the First echoed. "We feed, we gather, we absorb." He waited, and Chainer finished the list for him. "By the will of the First, we kill."
"By my will," said the First, "and mine alone. And my will is to kill nothing unless there's a long-term benefit. The more people there are alive, the more people there are in the arenas and gambling houses. The more patrons there are for the moneylenders and the flesh mills. We have a thousand uses for people when they're alive. We have only one or two when they're dead."
"It was an animal, Pater," Chainer said. "A bird of prey on a leash. He ordered it to attack me. I defended myself." "By my will alone," the First repeated. "And my will in all cases having to do with the Order is no killing. I am quite comfortable with the current relationship between their governing body and ours. They claim to be the law, while we are content to be all that is outside the law. Even as they recruit and convert warm bodies, our endeavors see higher and higher profits. They suppress society's truest urges, and we release them. It is a delicate situation, one that I spent years creating. Do you understand, Apprentice?"
"Yes, Pater."
"If there is to be an escalation of hostilities, it will be according to my schedule and my agenda."
"Yes, Pater."
The First drifted back to his spot under the painting at the far end of the room. His attendants silently followed.
Chainer exhaled, drawing fresher air into his lungs. He felt stronger with each step the First took away from him.
"Skellum," the First sounded casual, almost conversational, "tells me that at least you didn't waste the death."
"No, Pater. As he taught me, 1 captured the bird's essence."
"Then this has not been a total loss. Chainer."
"Yes, Pater?"