Chainer's stomach froze when he saw Skellum. The fresh pain of his mentor's death told Chainer that the apparition before him was a lie. Rage churned up the pain and soon overwhelmed Chainer's grief.
"Remember me," Skellum said.
Chainer angrily waved the phantom away. He closed his eyes tight, then opened them again. The only other person in the room was the frightened little blond messenger. Hadn't she been bit by a rattler? Chainer reached for the wall, but his depth perception failed him, and he almost fell to the floor.
"Big brother?"
Chainer found himself propped up between the wall and the messenger's birdlike hands.
"Haven't slept. What day is it?" he said. He stood and dusted off an imaginary cape. The First wanted to see him about the ambassador's new jack. Or had he already seen the First about the ambassador's new jack? It was something about the ambassador's jack, but a new something.
The messenger was staring at him with an absolutely hilarious mixture of pity and fear. Chainer laughed and stood up off the wall.
"Always make that face," Chainer said. "It suits you."
"Yes, big brother." She gave him a gentle shove and guided him out the door.
He remembered now. The First wanted to ask him exactly how much control they would have over Burke now that he had bonded to the ambassador. It was a simple matter and wouldn't take more than an hour. He would lie down on his cot when he returned, force himself to rest. Not that he was tired, of course. He just wanted to stop thinking for a while. His thoughts were starting to intrude on his fun, just as the crusat intruded on his time in the pits.
He watched the back of the messenger's head as they walked, and he felt more and more clear with each echoing step they took.
"The ambassador has expressed his satisfaction with your efforts, Master Chainer. Another job well done."
"Thank you, Pater."
"I understand that the demonstration was quite impressive."
"It was glorious, Pater. Burke performed even better than we'd hoped."
"And he is still under your influence?"
"Yes. He is bonded to Laquatus and will obey the ambassador's every command. But his essence is Cabal. Cabal magic, Cabal methods. He is Laquatus's slave, but he is the Cabal's asset."
"And if you wanted to, you could make another?"
This caught Chainer off-guard. "I suppose I could, Pater. Yes. If I had the Mirari to power the casting, a second Burke would be as powerful and as real as the original."
"Outstanding. Let us retrieve the Mirari from the vault. I would like you to create a duplicate of the ambassador's familiar for me."
Chainer felt an idea forming, and the first tingles of anticipation before a major challenge. "Such an attendant would be more durable than your human ones."
"Precisely. And in these troubled times, I need to move about quickly. My retinue of guards and attendants is too large and unwieldy. If I could replace half of them, even a third, with a single body, it would be a great boon to my work."
"It would be my pleasure, Pater."
"Of course, you would be rewarded for this service. Is there anything you desire? If it is within my power, it shall be yours."
"I can think of nothing right now, Pater." "Well, keep thinking. But now, let us go to the vault." As they returned, the First peppered Chainer with questions about Burke's capabilities, and Chainer dutifully reported the answers. The First was more excited than Chainer had ever seen him, gesturing emphatically and waving his arms wide. His attendants were hard- pressed to stay close by without being accidentally brushed. Chainer carried the Mirari reverently between both hands.
Back in the First's chamber, Chainer called for space, and the First had his guards and attendants all huddle against the far comer of the room. The First waited eagerly opposite his servants, and Chainer stood between them. He held the edge of his left hand against his stomach with the Mirari floating above his palm. He held his metal hand palm-down over the Mirari, and closed his eyes. He held this position and concentrated for a long time, until some of the braver guards began to grumble and jostle the people around them. The time was now, he told himself. This was what he had been preparing for. It was time to truly impress the First.
"Pater."
"Yes, my child?"
"There are two things preventing me from doing what you have asked."
The First frowned. "What are these things? Can they be removed?"
Chainer's eyes snapped open, the void in his sockets endless and impenetrable. "I thought you'd never ask. The first impediment is that it's far too crowded in here." He unfolded his left arm and left the Mirari hanging below his right. A yellow glow shot out of the sphere, up Chainer's arm, and traveled across his body to his outstretched left hand. A massive bolt of black light exploded out of Chainer's hand and slammed into the throng of guards and attendants in the corner. The room shook as the death bolt impacted, and some of the servants screamed before the entire group fell dead where they stood.
"Chainer! What are you doing?"
"The second impediment," Chainer said evenly, "is that you sent Skellum into the pits to die."
"Mazeura," the First was regaining his composure, "attend me." Chainer felt the dominating power of his secret name take hold, and his muscles froze where they were.
"I am the Cabal First," he snarled, "and I do not explain my actions. Look at what we have gained, what you have gained, from the death of a single man. Skellum's time had passed, and he knew it. I think you know it, too. These are dangerous times, my child, and not everyone is going to survive. You are the future of dementia, you are the future of Cabal. That future needs to be fast, focused, versatile, brutal. We need you more than we needed Skellum."
"Do not say 'we,' Pater. You do not speak for me in this."
"I speak for the Cabal in all things. And you are Cabal. The oath you took is not some clubhouse initiation ritual, it is a powerful magical bond. You don't just quit the Cabal because your best friend is gone. You are mine, body and soul, for as long as I want you." "I've been thinking about my oath lately. In Mer they say an oath is nothing more than a contract, and all contracts have loopholes."
The First crossed his arms behind his back. "There are no loopholes in your sacred oath, Mazeura."
"My name is Chainer," he said. "And of course there are. You only have power over me because I gave it to you when I accepted my secret name."
"You accepted much more than that."
"True. But if I could discover your secret name, Pater, wouldn't the roles be reversed? Wouldn't you be as docile before me as I am before you now?"
"No one has known my secret name for a hundred years." Chainer heard the initial strains of uncertainty in the First's voice, and he breathed it in like delicious incense.
"I'm sorry, but that's no longer true… Calchexas." Chainer jutted both palms forward, leaving the Mirari to float freely at his chest. An even larger bolt of energy burst from Chainer's hands and totally engulfed the First. His panicked white eyes were the last thing Chainer saw before the First vanished behind a cloud of black light.
Chainer continued to pour energy into the spell, keeping the First's body surrounded by the roiling field. The First had lived a very long time, he reasoned, and would take a lot of effort to kill. He hadn't dropped yet, and Chainer had never seen anyone withstand the death bloom for so long. In fact, the First was still standing upright as Chainer continued to hurl killing magic at him. "Die," Chainer whispered. With the Mirari he could keep this up for a week. He increased his efforts, and the First was physically driven back into the stone wall. He still stood, however, straight and tall, against an attack that would have overwhelmed an army.