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After a full minute of pressing the First against the wall, Chainer broke off. The First's body had been crushed into the stone behind him, and his fine robes were in tatters. He was panting and shaking, but he was very much alive."

"You cannot kill me Mazeura. There is no way you can kill me."

Chainer blasted him again, a brief slap. "Chainer. My name is Chainer."

"You can never kill me, Chainer. I am not merely called the First, I am the first. The first to worship Kuberr. The first to receive his gifts. The first Cabalist. I have lived for centuries. I have fed on bloodlust, greed, and brutality since Otaria was wild and the Mer empire was just another school of intelligent fish. I have been Kuberr's servant since the very beginning, and nothing you do, not even with the Mirari, can prevent me from serving him."

Chainer ran his tongue over his teeth, perturbed. He expected the First to tell outrageous lies and convenient half-truths to save his own life, but here the old viper actually seemed to be telling the truth. At least, he was telling the truth about the death bloom, because it was having almost no effect on him at all.

"So you're immortal?"

"In a sense."

"Then I really can't kill you."

"No. You can't."

Chainer sent a sharpened weight flying toward the First's face. It buried itself in the patriarch's forehead, and Chainer watched the

First's corruption crawl back along the links toward Chainer's hand. Chainer dropped his end before the toxic patina could reach him, and the First actually fell to his knees, clutching feebly at his wound.

"I can try, however." Chainer returned his hands and the Mirari to their position in front of his stomach. The First slumped to one side, groaned, and then got back to his feet.

"We need to settle our account, Chainer. This city… the Cabal itself may not survive an all-out conflict between us. I suggest we come to an understanding." With as much poise as he could manage, the First pulled the sharpened weight out of his head and let it clatter to the floor.

"Very well. You ordered Skellum's death. In return I demand yours."

"Your price is too high and can never be paid. I have a counter offer."

"Name it."

"Cabal City is yours," he said, "if you give me safe passage. The manor, the arena, the pits, even the Mirari."

"And where will you go? Do you really expect me to believe that you'll just disappear?"

"I will go south. Our… my stronghold in Aphetto City. The Parliament of Knives is weak and ineffectual. I have been ignoring them of late, and they could use a firm, guiding hand."

"And in five years you will come back at the head of an army of mages to retake Cabal City by force." The First laughed. "That would be wasteful and unnecessary. In fifty years… less, given your recklessness… you will be gone, and I shall return unopposed. The Cabal is here, and everywhere. I will take it with me, and it will be here when I come back for it."

"You think so."

"I know so."

Chainer grunted. "I accept your terms. Here are mine." Chainer raised his arms over his head. The Mirari stayed between his hands.

"You will use the city-wide grapevine to announce that you are leaving the City under my control. The Cabal still runs things, but now I will run the Cabal."

"No one will follow you, Chainer."

"Everyone will follow me. I am the Cabal's response to the Order crusat, as you always intended. The entire city knows and fears me. And I intend to keep everything running smoothly. The anniversary games will happen as planned. People will come from all over Otaria to claim the prize. And I will destroy them all in one fell swoop."

"I agree to your terms," the First seemed sullen, angry, and Chainer wondered how long it had been since he had been at a disadvantage during negotiations.

"I'm not finished yet. My personal representatives will be sent ahead to Aphetto to prepare it for you. To clear the road before you and to keep an eye on you once you arrive."

"Spies, dementist? That hardly seems like a warrior's style."

"Not spies. Cabalists. They do not report to me, but they are loyal to Kuberr. You may lead them, if you can. But they will be harder to dominate than the Cabalists you're used to."

"What do you mean, 'will be?' " The First sounded as if he already knew and dreaded the answer.

"I mean they will be. Observe." Chainer put his hands out in the casting position with the Mirari between them. His eyes went black, and he shuddered. From between his hands, a long tendril of smoke curled outward, growing thicker at the front end. There was an implosion and a flash, and Chainer's new Cabalist stood ready before him.

The creature was a huge, ten-foot serpent as long and heavy as an alligator. It sat on a coil of its own body, propped up by two small hornlike claws where the coil rose off the floor. It had thin, flexible arms that collapsed against its body for quick strikes or rapid motion. Its head was big enough to swallow a cannonball without dislocating its jaw. It appeared to be a rattlesnake man, complete with a warning shaker on its tail and venom dripping from its fangs.

"I've been thinking about snakes recently," Chainer said, "and I've decided I like them better than.people. A snake only strikes to hunt or defend itself. It specializes in graceful motion and deadly accuracy. Nature designed them to be elegant killers. I, in turn, have designed them to be perfect Cabalists."

There was another shudder and another flash, and a second snake-person appeared. This one was longer and broader, rippling with muscle. It had no rattle, and its fangs were dry.

"The constrictor caste is especially good at stealth killings. Once it embraces you, you can't even scream. You should get along famously with these, Pater. You have so much in common."

Another shudder, another flash. "And the king snake. Bigger brain, stronger arms, and deadlier venom. They will be the ones who give you the most trouble as you try to take over."

"What are you talking about, Chainer? How many of these things have you made?"

Chainer grinned. "All of them." The final flash blew the First against the wall, and even drove Chainer back a step. The entire building shook. When the First had recovered, there was no one else in the room. No snakes, no attendants, only Chainer and the First.

"My serpent Cabal is now on its way to Aphetto. Scores of them, hundreds. They will hunt and kill and feed and fight on the way. Those that are successful will become real-indistinguishable from things that were born instead of conjured. They will breed and spread throughout Otaria. Who is running Aphetto City for you now?"

"The Parliament of Knives," the First said warily.

"Within a week of their arrival, my snakes will have overthrown the Parliament. If I were you, I'd get down there quickly, before everyone who knows you is killed or driven out."

The First nodded, angry but resigned to his defeat. He was staring at the Mirari as he spoke to Chainer. "Well done, my child. I can't help taking pride in-" "Shut up," Chainer said. "The only thing I want to hear out of you is your announcement to the city. And then, Calchexas, you will leave. If I ever see you again, I will make it my life's work to cut you to pieces, burn the remains, and scatter the ashes. I may not be able to kill you, but I can make you wish I had." Chainer closed his eyes, the Mirari glowed, and the First was once again bathed in black light. This light did not harm him, however. It merely cascaded around him.

"Speak clearly, Pater. All of your children are listening, and you won't get a second chance."

The First folded his arms into his sleeves. After one final glare at Chainer, he began to speak. "Attention, my children. This is the First…"

Chainer tuned him out as his mind sizzled and sparked from one topic to the next. First, he would honor his agreement with Laqua-tus, who had been instrumental in pinning down the First's secret name. Then, Chainer would crush all who came for the Mirari, including the Order and Burke and Kamahl, if they were foolish enough to compete.