"The Sword Rulers do exist, Master Corum. You have one of them, at least, to thank for your misfortunes. It was the Knight of the Swords who decided to let the Mabden grow strong and destroy the Old Races."
"Why?"
"Because he was bored by you. Who would not be? The world has become more interesting now, I'm sure you will agree."
"Chaos and destruction is 'interesting'?" Corum made an impatient gesture. "I thought you had outgrown such childish ideas."
Shool-an-Jyvan smiled. "Perhaps I have. But has the Knight of the Swords?"
"You do not speak plainly, Prince Shool."
"True. A vice I find impossible to give up. Still, it enlivens a dull conversation sometimes."
"If you are bored with this conversation, return Rhalina to me and I will leave."
Shool smiled again. "I have it in my power to bring Rhalina back to you and to set you free. That is why I let Master Moidel answer her Summoning. I wished to meet you, Master Corum."
"You did not know I would come."
"I thought it likely."
"Why did you wish to meet me?"
"I have something to offer you. In case you refused my gift, I thought it wise to have Mistress Rhalina on hand."
"And why should I refuse a gift?"
Shool shrugged. "My gifts are sometimes refused. Folk are suspicious of me. The nature of my calling disturbs them. Few have a kind word for a sorcerer, Master Corum."
Corum peered around him in the gloom. "Where is the door? I will seek Rhalina myself. I am very weary, Prince Shool."
"Of course you are. You have suffered much. You thought your own sweet dream a reality and you thought reality a dream. A shock. There is no door. I have no need of them. Will you not hear me out?"
"If you choose to speak in a less elliptical manner, aye."
"You are a poor guest, Vadhagh. I thought your race a courteous one."
"I am no longer typical."
"A shame that the last of a race should not typify its virtues. However, I am, I hope, a better host and I will comply with your request. I am an ancient being. I am not of the Mabden and I am not of the folk you call the Old Races. I came before you. I belonged to a race which began to degenerate, I did not wish to degenerate and so I concerned myself with the discovery of scientific ways in which I could preserve my mind in all its wisdom. I discovered the means to do such a thing, as you see. I am, essentially, pure mind. I can transfer myself from one body to another, with some effort, and thus am immortal. Efforts have been made to extinguish me, over the millenia, but they have never been successful. It would have involved the destruction of too much. Therefore I have, generally speaking, been allowed to continue my existence and my experiments. My wisdom has grown. I control both Life and Death. I can destroy and I can bring back to life. I can give other beings immortality, if I choose. By my own mind and my own skill I have become, in short, a God. Perhaps not the most powerful of the Gods-but that will come eventually. Now you will understand that the Gods who simply"-Shool spread his hands-"popped into existence-who exist only through some cosmic fluke-why, they resent me. They refuse to acknowledge my Godhood. They are jealous. They would like to have done with me for I disturb their self-esteem. The Knight of the Swords is my enemy. He wishes me dead. So, you see, we have much in common, Master Corum."
"I am no 'God,' Prince Shool. In fact, until recently, I had no belief in gods, either."
"The fact that you are not a God, Master Corum, is evident from your obtuseness. That is not what I meant. What I did mean was this-we are both the last representatives of races whom, for reasons of their own, the Sword Rulers decided to destroy. We are both, in their eyes, anachronisms which must be eradicated. As they replaced my folk with the Vadhagh and the Nhadragh, so they are replacing the Vadhagh and the Nhadragh with the Mabden. A similar degeneration is taking place in your people-forgive me if I associate you with the Nhadragh-as it did in mine. Like me, you have attempted to resist this, to fight against it. I chose science-you chose the sword. I will leave it to you to decide which was the wisest choice…"
"You seem somewhat petty for a God," Corum said, losing his patience. "Now…"
"I am a petty God at the moment. You will find me more lordly and benign when I achieve the position of a greater God. Will you let me continue, Master Corum? Can you not understand that I have acted, so far, out of fellow feeling for you?"
"Nothing you have done so far seems to indicate your friendship."
"I said fellow feeling, not friendship. I assure you, Master Corum, I could destroy you in an instant-and your lady, too."
"I would feel more patience if I knew you had released her from that dreadful bargain she made and brought her here so that I could see for myself that she still lives and is capable of being saved."
"You will have to take my word."
"Then destroy me."
Prince Shool got up. His gestures were the testy gestures of a very old man. They did not match the youthful body at all and made the sight of him even more obscene. "You should have greater respect for me, Master Corum."
"Why is that? I have seen a few tricks and heard a great deal of pompous talk."
"I am offering you much, I warn you! Be more pleasant to me."
"What are you offering me?"
Prince Shool's eyes narrowed.
"I am offering you your life. I could take it."
"You have told me that."
"I am offering you a new hand and a new eye.”
Corum's interest evidently betrayed itself, for Prince Shool chuckled.
"I am offering you the return of this Mabden female you have such a perverse affection for." Prince Shool raised his hand. "Oh, very well. I apologize. Each to his own pleasures, I suppose. I am offering you the opportunity to take vengeance on the cause of your ills.”
"Glandyth-a-Krae?"
"No, no, no! The Knight of the Swords! The Knight of the Swords! The one who allowed the Mabden to take root in the first place in this plane!"
"But what of Glandyth? I have sworn his destruction."
"You accuse me of pettiness. Your ambitions are tiny. With the powers I offer you, you can destroy any number of Mabden earls!"
"Continue…”
"Continue? Continue? Have I not offered you enough?"
"You do not say how you propose to make these offers into something more than so much breath."
"Oh, you are insulting! The Mabden fear me! The Mabden gibber when I materialize myself. Some of them die of terror when I make my powers manifest!"
"I have seen too much horror of late," Prince Corum said.
"That should make no difference. Your trouble is, Vadhagh, that these horrors I employ are Mabden horrors. You associate with Mabden, but you are still a Vadhagh. The dark dreams of the Mabden frighten you less than they frighten the Mabden themselves. If you had been a Mabden, I should have had an easier task of convincing you…”
"But you could not use a Mabden for the task you have in mind," Coruni said grimly. "Am I right?"
"Your brains are sharpening. That is exactly the truth. No Mabden could survive what you must survive. And I am not sure that even a Vadhagh…"
"What is the task?"
"To steal something I need if I am to develop my ambitions further."
"Could you not steal it yourself?"
"Of course not How could I leave my island? They would destroy me then, of a certainty."
"Who would destroy you?"
"My rivals, of course-the Sword Rulers and the rest! I only survive because I protect myself with all manner of devices and spells which, though they have, at this moment, the power to break, they dare not do so for fear of the consequences. To break my spells might lead to the very dissolution of the Fifteen Planes-and the extinction of the Sword Rulers themselves. No, you must do the thieving for me. No other, in this whole plane, would have the courage-or the motivation. For if you do this thing, I will restore Rhalina to you. And, if you still wish it, you will have the power to take your vengeance on Glandyth-a-Krae. But, I assure you, the real one to blame for the very existence of Glandyth is the Knight of the Swords, and by stealing this thing from him, you will be thoroughly avenged."