“Can the dog come with me?”
“If it wants. Go on, now. Hurry up. The sooner we get there, the sooner I’ll be back.”
Bane left the room with a show of quiet obedience. It was fun, playacting; fun to fool Haplo. Fun to pretend to obey a man whose life you hold in your small hands. Bane hugged to himself a conversation—almost the last conversation—he’d had with Xar.
When your task is completed, Bane, when the Kicksey-winsey is in operation and you have taken control of Ananus, Haplo will then become expendable. You will see to it that he is failed I believe you knew an assassin on Arianus Hugh the Hand, Grandfather. But he’s not alive anymore. My father killed him. There will be other assassins for hire. One thing is most important. One thing you must promise me to do. You must keep Haplo’s corpse preserved until my arrival.
You’re going to resurrect Haplo, Grandfather? Make him serve you after he’s dead, like they do with the dead men on Abarrach?
Yes, child. Only then will I be able to trust him.... Love breaks the heart.
“Come on, boy!” Bane cried, suddenly. “Race you!” He and the dog dashed madly for the child’s bedroom.
8
The trip through Death’s Gate was uneventful. Haplo charmed Bane to sleep almost immediately after they departed the Nexus. It had occurred to Haplo that the passage into Death’s Gate had become so simple a skilled mensch wizard might attempt it. Bane was observant, intelligent, and the son of a skilled wizard. Haplo had a sudden vision of Bane flitting from one world to another.... Nope. Nap time.
They had no difficulty reaching Arianus, World of Air. The images of the various worlds flashed past Haplo; he found the floating isles of Arianus with ease. But before he concentrated on it, he spent a few moments watching the other worlds drift before him, shining in rainbow hues like soap bubbles, before bursting and being replaced by the next. All of them were places he recognized except one. And that one—the most beautiful, the most intriguing. Haplo stared at the vision as long as he could, which was only a matter of fleeting seconds. He had intended to ask Xar about it, but the lord had left before Haplo had a chance to discuss it.
Was there a fifth world?
Haplo rejected that notion. No mention of a fifth world had ever been made in any of the ancient Sartan writings.
The old world.
Haplo thought this much more probable. The flashing image he saw of it accorded with descriptions of the old world. But the old world no longer existed; a world torn apart by magic. Perhaps this was nothing more than a poignant memory, kept around to remind the Sartan of what had once been. But, if that were so, why should it be presented as an option? Haplo watched the possibilities sparkle before his eyes again and again. Always in the same order: the strange world of blue sky and bright sun, moon, and stars, boundless ocean and broad vistas; then the Labyrinth, dark and tangled; then the twilight Nexus, then the four elemental worlds.
If Haplo had not had Bane with him, he would have been tempted to explore, to select the image in his mind and see what happened. He glanced down at the child, slumbering peacefully, his arm around the dog; both of them sharing a cot Haplo had dragged onto the bridge in order to keep an eye on the kid. The dog, sensing its master’s gaze, opened its eyes, blinked lazily, yawned widely, and, seeing no action was imminent, gave a contented sigh and crowded closer to the child, nearly pushing Bane off the cot. Bane muttered something in his deep, something about Xar, and suddenly clutched the dog’s for with pinching hands.
The dog gave a pained yelp, reared its head, and looked at the child with a bemused expression, wondering what it had done to deserve such rough treatment, uncertain how to extricate itself. The dog looked up at Haplo, asking for help.
Haplo, smiling, uncurled the sleeping child’s fingers from the dog’s fur, petted the dog’s head in apology. The dog gave Bane a distrustful glance, jumped off the cot, and curled up safely on the deck at Haplo’s feet. Haplo looked back at the visions, concentrated on Arianus, put the others out of his mind.
The first time Haplo had traveled to Arianus had nearly been his last. Unprepared for both the magical forces of Death’s Gate and the violent physical forces existent in the, Realm of Air, he had been forced to crash-land his ship on what he had later learned were a series of small floating isles known as the Steps of Terrel Fen.
He was prepared, now, for the terrible effects of the ferocious storm that raged perpetually in the Lower Realms. The protective sigla that had only glowed faintly during their passage through Death’s Gate flared a vibrant blue when the first blast of wind smote the vessel. Lightning was almost continual, brilliant, blinding. Thunder crashed around them, the wind buffeted them. Hail battered the wooden shell, rain lashed against the window, forming a solid sheet of water, making it impossible to see.
Haplo brought the ship to a standstill, kept it floating in midair. Having spent time on Drevlin—the principal isle of the Lower Realm—he had learned that these storms swept through in cycles. He had only to wait for this one to pass; then would come a period of relative calm before the next one. During that calm, he would find a place to land, make contact with the dwarves. Haplo considered keeping Bane asleep, decided to allow the boy to wake up. He might as well make himself useful. A quick brush of Haplo’s hand wiped away the rune he’d traced on the child’s forehead.
Bane sat up, blinked dazedly around for a moment, then glared at the Patryn accusingly.
“You put me to sleep.”
Haplo saw no need to verify, comment on, or apologize for his action. Keeping watch as best he could out the rain-smeared window, he flicked a glance at the boy.
“Go through the ship, see if there are any leaks or cracks in the hull.” Bane flushed angrily at the Patryn’s offhand, commanding tone. Haplo watched the crimson wave spread from the fair neck to the cheeks. The blue eyes flashed in rebellion. Xar had not spoiled the child, who had been in the lord’s care over a year now. The lord had done much to improve Bane’s temper, but the boy had been raised a prince in a royal household and was accustomed to giving orders, not taking them.
Especially not from Haplo.
“If you’ve done your magic right, there shouldn’t be any cracks,” said Bane petulantly.
We might as well get settled now who’s boss, Haplo thought. He shifted his gaze back to the window, watching for the first signs that the storm was about to subside.
“I did my magic right. But you’ve worked with the runes. You know how delicate the balance is. One tiny sliver could start a crack that would end up breaking apart the entire ship. Best to make sure, to stop it now before it gets wider.”
A moment’s silence, which Haplo assumed was spent in internal struggle.
“Can I take the dog with me?” Bane asked in sullen tones. Haplo waved a hand.
“Sure.”
The child seemed to cheer up. “Can I feed him a sausage?” The dog, at the sound of its favorite word, was on its feet, tongue lolling, tail wagging.
“Only one,” said Haplo. “I’m not sure how long this Storm’s going to last. We may need to eat the sausages ourselves.”
“You can always conjure up more,” said Bane happily. “C’mon, dog.” The two clattered away, heading for the ship’s stern. Haplo watched the rain slide down the windowpane, H thought back to when he’d first brought the boy to the Nexus...
...“The kid’s name is Bane, Lord,” said Haplo. “I know,” he added, seeing Xar’s frown, “it’s a strange name for a human child, but, once you know his history, the name makes sense. You’ll find an account of him there, Lord, in my journal.”
Xar fingered the document but did not open it. Haplo remained standing in respectful silence, waiting for his lord to apeak. The lord’s next question was not entirely unexpected. “I asked you to bring me a disciple from this world, Haplo. Arianus is, as you describe it, a world in chaos: elves, dwarves, humans all fighting each other, the elves fighting among themselves. A serious shortage of water, due to the failure of the Sartan to align the floating islands and make their fantastic machine operational. When I begin my conquest, I will need a lieutenant, preferably one of the mensch, to to Arianus and gain control over the people in my name Awhile I am busy elsewhere. And for this purpose you bring me a ten-year-old human child?” The child under discussion was asleep in a back bedroom in Xar’s dwelling. Haplo had left the dog with him, to give its master notice if Bane woke. Haplo did not flinch beneath his Lord’s stern gaze. Xar was not doubting his minion; the Lord was puzzled, perplexed—a feeling Haplo could well understand. He’d been prepared for the question, he was prepared with the answer.