It was still smoking and burned from its journey. It was exactly as big as the grendelkin. In fact, it looked a great deal like the grendelkin, except its lower half narrowed into a muscular serpent's tail complete with rattle. Its eyes bulged out of its skull and looked independently in all directions. It had no armor plating, but it did have a long, barbed tongue that flashed out between its jagged teeth.
"Did I mention I had seen one as a boy?" Skellum asked. His voice sounded exactly as it had when Skellum first arrived, except it seemed to be coming from inside Chainer's head. Skellum's silky tone was as calm and measured as a man lighting his pipe. "I may have gotten a few details wrong, and I've always been partial to rattler tails…"
Skellum's nightmare grendelkin caught sight of its shrivel-waisted counterpart and screeched like a stooping eagle. The forest brute roared in reply. Both monsters simultaneously launched forward, coming together with a titanic crunch that partially flattened their torsos against one another. They tore at each other with their claws.
"Azza?" Skellum said, and the big dog grunted in agreement. She tossed Reseda's unconscious body at the soldiers. Baankis yelped and stepped backward while Teroh dropped his guard and threw himself in front of the flying mantis, trying to minimize Reseda's impact on the hard stone.
Chainer seized the opportunity and sent the weighted end of his chain screaming across Baankis's forehead. The deep slash began to bleed before Chainer could reel his weapon back in, and the hapless foot soldier fell to his knees, momentarily blinded.
Skellum's vortex-head boomed again, and two more smoking comets leaped out. One transformed into a scaly humanoid horror with long, dragging arms that ended in harpoonlike spikes. The other, smaller one seemed to be composed entirely of wings and legs. The harpoon-handed thing began to stalk the tangled heap that was Teroh and Reseda, and the flying thing howled like a wolf and took off into the air. It shot down the street and, still howling, disappeared around the comer.
Azza padded up to Chainer.
"Get on," Skellum called. "My other new friend has gone ahead to clear your path. I'll be along directly."
Chainer took one last look at the melee. The two grendelkin were locked in a brutal stalemate while sword and harpoon clashed, and Baankis groped along the ground for his weapon.
Azza urged him out of his reverie with a scolding bark. Chainer slung himself onto her back and took firm hold of the extra skin around her neck and shoulders.
"To the manor, please," he said, and Azza bounded off, fast as a small horse and ten times more dangerous. Chainer threw one last look over his shoulder as Azza followed the winged thing's path down the street. Major Teroh had managed to hack off one of the harpooner's arms at the elbow, but it was still pressing its attack. The officer had planted his feet, refusing to abandon the unconscious mantis. Chainer was mildly impressed, but such bravery could well cost Teroh his life. Baankis was trying to clear his eyes with water from his canteen. Skellum's grendelkin had its tail wrapped tightly around the space where its double's throat would have been if it had a neck. They rolled over and over, crunching paving stones and flattening storefronts in their wake.
The last thing he saw before Azza turned the corner was Skellum whipping his cape around himself with a flourish, his face smiling and normal, as he backed calmly into the shadows he'd come from.
Rescued by his mentor, safe on Azza's back, and en route to the First with his package intact, Chainer allowed himself a single, short burst of joyous laughter. Then he hunkered down to make sure he stayed on long enough to enjoy the ride.
CHAPTER 3
Skellum's howling, flying thing had done its job. There was no one on the streets to observe Azza and Chainer as they galloped toward the manor. He saw several frightened faces peeking out through windows or from behind cracked doors, but no one was foolish enough to risk interfering with Azza's progress.
They raced past the initiates' dormitories, where Chainer lived after Skellum started training him. Beyond the dorms was the largest port on the continent, its docks wholly owed and operated by the Cabal. Between the docks and the dorms was the city's main arena, the bloody pits where Chainer had fought for and earned a place in the Cabal's hierarchy. Azza bounded though a sharp left turn, and there it was: the manor, where the First lived and lorded, where all the world came to bow and beg for the Cabal's favor. Chainer had only been inside once before for his initiation, but he remembered every detail. It was a huge structure, ten stories high and two city blocks wide. The thick stone walls had been carved and set by the finest dwarf masons and further reinforced with magic and metal. It would take the destruction of the entire city and a half-mile of the bedrock below to put a dent in the First's home. The gleaming silver cathedral dome at the top was polished to a high shine, so that it reflected whatever was in the sky above it like a great convex mirror. At the very end of Manor Way, where Azza and Chainer were, the dome and the toothed drawbridge gate combined with the huge observation towers in front of it all to give the viewer an impression of a huge, grinning, metallic skull with horns.
Home at last, Chainer thought, but his good humor was already fading. Passersby this close to the manor were more used to screeching monsters than the people in Roup's neighborhood. Skellum's winged thing had only caused this foot traffic to clear a path rather than vanish behind locked doors. The sparse crowds gave Chainer and Azza plenty of space but eyed them suspiciously as they passed. Chainer touched his dagger and the satchel at his hip, mentally preparing himself for the next challenge he would face. Getting to the manor was only the first step. He would have to get inside and then convince layer upon layer of armed guards and petty bureaucrats that what he carried was for the First alone. Azza seemed to pick up on his concern, and she slowed to a trot. Chainer anxiously prodded her with his heels, but she stopped him with a menacing growl.
"Sorry," he said. "I'm a little nervous. Will you help me get inside, or are you just taking me to the gate?"
Azza craned her head around and regarded Chainer with one red smoldering eye. She coughed, unimpressed, and then sprang forward at full gallop once more. Chainer hung on, smiling slightly.
The guard on the gate was a six-foot-tall woman with three yellow eyes and vivid purple hair cropped close to her head. She was burly and broad-shouldered, with long serrated fingernails painted to match her hair. Unlike most of the guards Chainer had met in his life, she seemed neither bored nor bullying.
"Who goes?" she called. The top eye in the middle of her forehead squinted in the dusky gloom.
"The Cabal is here," Chainer said.
"And everywhere," the guard replied. All three eyes now squinted. "Azza, old girl, is that you?"
Azza coughed again, then reared up, almost tossing Chainer off her back.
The left eye winked at Azza while the other two oriented on Chainer. "And you must be Skellum's boy."
"I am Chainer. I seek an audience with the First. I have urgent-"
The guard held up her hands. "Easy, little brother." She grinned, and Chainer saw that her teeth were serrated, like her nails, and they too matched the color of her hair.
"We've been expecting you." The guard stepped aside and waved the mounted pair in. "Proceed to the Great Hall. You will be met there and escorted to the First. Azza," she added, "don't let him wander off on his own."
Azza growled, more annoyed than angry, and the guard laughed. As the great dog padded into the manor, the guard winked at Chainer with all three of her eyes in succession.
Unlike the offices in the administration building, the interior of the manor was decidedly still and silent. The First used the manor primarily for advanced rituals and to receive important guests. All of the Cabal's actual work was conducted in the streets, in the homes and offices of syndicate executives, or in the arena. Apart from a handful of visible guards, there were very few people between the entranceway and the Great Hall. Chainer gazed around as Azza bore him on, taking in the ornate decoration, the trophy displays of wealth and prestige, and the simple, sheer power humming from the gemstone chandelier. Overwhelmed, Chainer lowered his eyes and focused on Azza's muscular neck. He was being admitted to the manor, escorted into the presence of the First, and, he reminded himself, he carried the finest treasure yet at his side.