"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.
"They are dementia creatures." Veza's voice was hushed, muted by fear.
Laquatus beamed. "Yes," confirmed the ambassador, "and they are here to kill you, Llawan."
CHAPTER 25
Kamahl watched Chainer release his reply to the attacking angels of vengeance. His casting matched the Order angel for angel, but Chainer's were raven- feathered and armed with spiked maces. The dark angels each engaged a single counterpart, and the terrible cries of all six warriors could be heard throughout the arena.
While the angels continued to battle high above the arena floor, old grudges erupted all around Kamahl and desperate fighters lashed out at each other in an effort to escape. The Mirari Games were quickly turning into a bloody melee, and the crowd loved it. Kamahl wondered how long they would cheer before they realized they, too, were in danger. Neither Chainer nor the Order seemed to care about protecting innocent bystanders.