The rest of the shambling horde would soon be upon him, and the snake thing was preparing for another attack. Think, Chainer commanded himself. How could he control a dozen-odd monsters at once? He could kill some of them with the death bloom, he could cripple some more with a dagger to the hamstrings, and he could bind a few with-
The tip of the snake-thing's claw cut the air in front of Chainer's face. It was no longer charging him headlong, but instead slashed at him with its long arms. It feinted and slashed, but Chainer stayed just out of its reach.
A half-rotted zombie bear reared up behind Chainer, roaring through its skeletal jaws. Chainer cracked his chain like a whip across its remaining eye, and when the clumsy brute lunged at Chainer, it connected with the snake-thing. Enraged, the serpent ripped the bear's paw off in its teeth and then backhanded Chainer across the chest with its claws. Chainer nimbly rolled backward, pressing his shirt into the four razor lines bleeding beneath it.
The wound was not serious, but it would force him to think and act faster before the loss of blood started to slow him down. The zombie bear and the serpent were tearing into each other, with the bear getting the worst of it. More creatures in the horde began to turn on each other, and Chainer wondered if he could let them reduce their own numbers and then conquer the survivors.
Something small and ratlike clamped onto his calf muscle with a dozen tiny needle-sharp teeth. Chainer broke its back with his dagger and kicked the wretched thing off. The snake-thing finished with the last few ghastly parts of zombie bear and immediately began stalking Chainer again. A small swarm of glowing insects spat fire at Chainer, and he shielded his eyes from a cascade of sparks. A large pool of oily slime flowed over the dull stone ground, engulfing its fellow nightmares as it also homed in on Chainer. He backpedaled, keeping the horde in front of him with his arms spread wide and his hands empty. The creatures continued to advance, focused once more as a group on the stranger in their domain.
Chainer exhaled. He thought he had the answer. It was an unfamiliar shape, and these were not ideal circumstances, but he had been making links and weights on his own for half his life. He'd been taught proficiency by an expert, then had become an expert on his own.
The snake-thing was slower, almost playful in its final approach. The other nightmares gave it a wide berth as it hissed and grinned and clawed the ground. It was trying to get him to run, to play the role of prey. Chainer smiled at it, playfully showing it his empty hands.
"Come on," he taunted. He tilted his head back, exposing his throat. "You'll never get a better chance."
The snake-thing lunged. It was lightning-fast, but Chainer's hand was faster. He cast a chain at its neck, unlike any chain he had ever created before. It was malleable in flight, solid enough only to give itself weight. When it collided with the snake-thing's throat, it folded itself completely around the beast's neck, joined itself around, and tightened. The snake-thing stumbled forward, clawing at the choking collar, and Chainer pulled it right off its feet by yanking down hard on his end of the chain. The brute went face-first into the ground and fought with the unyielding metal around its throat.
Chainer cast another collar around the fallen bird. He held neither of the new leash-chains in his hands. Instead, the ends of each hovered an inch from his open palm, following the hand's movement as if they were attached to it. With his hands thus free, Chainer was able to send collar after collar into the pack of oncoming creatures. He nimbly dodged any who came close enough to strike, and he sank sharpened weights into the bodies of those who broke or avoided the collars. He caught the shapeless mass as it flowed over another, more solid body, collaring both creatures with the same cast. As he leashed each monster, Chainer created a conduit through which he could drain its energy. He used this conduit to draw a portion of each thing's essence into himself, and the monsters invariably fell to their knees, fatigued, weakened, chastened.
Chainer floated above the heads of the now- submissive creatures, borne on a wave of their stolen energy. He no longer felt the pain of his wounds, new or old. He spread his arms wide, with dozens of chains radiating out from his hands, each connecting a monster to its new master. Chainer howled.
With a final surge of power, Chainer dispelled all of the leash-chains with the screech of metal on metal and a deafening boom. Chainer dropped to the ground and crossed his arms over his chest.
The newly released creatures growled and grumbled and eyed him angrily, but none dared attack.
"Get going," Chainer said. He brought his arm up, and when he brought it down, a ten-foot length of whip chain cracked among the creatures. "I'll call you when I need you."
The sullen, confused mass began to move away from him. Some ran headlong, terrified of being collared again. The snake-thing was the last to leave, flicking its forked tongue and clawing the ground in front of it. It hissed at Chainer, sounding almost plaintive.
"Go on," Chainer said. "But not too far. I've got plans for you later." He smiled unpleasantly, lost in childhood memories. The creature grunted, turned, and loped off. When they were all distant and tiny, the mist returned, gently swallowing Chainer from the ground up. Chainer loaded the censer, lit it, and began to whirl it around his head in short, slow circles. He had just earned the right to continue as Skellum's apprentice. He had faced down his oldest nightmare, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he had found a place that was entirely his own.
He continued to casually spin the censer while he waited for Skellum to return and take him back to Cabal City.
PART TWO: CASTER
CHAPTER 12
The next few months went very well for Chainer. He thought him-self happy when the First praised him for delivering the Mirari and ordered Skellum to step up his train-ing. He was even happier, however, when he had been allowed back in the pits.
After spending years in the dementist academy, Chainer was oddly comforted to be back among people who lived and died by their skills rather than their ability to lie. There was also a strange camaraderie among the contestants that Chainer never got tired of. You could be standing in a group waiting for your next bout, and when the starting horn sounded, the people around you could be your allies as easily as your enemies. Unless you had been assigned or had petitioned for a grudge match, you really had no idea who or what you'd be facing, or what the stakes were. Chainer had not seen war, but he imagined the silent, grudging respect pit fighters had for one another was like the bond that formed between soldiers during combat. Only in the pits, there were no uniforms to distinguish friend from foe, and the person who watched your back today would probably stick a rusty spike in it tomorrow.
The Cabal's house pit fighters weren't even sure if they were allowed to win. The Master of the Games plotted and paired the results every match with the fixers, on instructions from the First himself. The most important thing was to put on a good show, to make people come back either as contestants or as spectators. If the Order were out in force and a string of humiliating Cabal defeats would lure them in, then the home team was instructed to embarrass themselves. When the First specified what kind of reaction he wanted from the crowd, the Master of the Games prepared it, and the Cabal fighters produced it.
Chainer had never competed in the main pits before he met Skellum, so his matches were less structured, and he was free to fight as best as he could. His youth and his skill with the chain made him something of a novelty act, however, so he was often just outside the entrance in one of the show pits. At the time, Chainer had felt like he was fighting for his life, but he later realized he was only there to impress passing foot traffic. The Cabal had taken him in, trained him, housed him, and fed him, however, so he did his oath-bound duty and put on a show for the passersby. He took that time to master his technique, and before long he had amassed enough wins to impress the pit bosses, the Master of the Games, and, eventually, Skellum.