A low sound of mirth escaped Jadis's throat. Aza- lin was brilliant. The pretentious nobles who had come here this night seeking to curry the king's favor or to hatch plots of intrigue against him would soon forget their subversive intentions as they drowned themselves in the sea of dark pleasures that filled the ballroom. Even after the revel was over, and after the party-goers returned to the city with only dim memories of what had occurred here, they would find themselves filled with strange, longing hungers, the pursuit of which would consume their energies in the year ahead, so that they would have neither time nor will to scheme against the king. Then would come another ball, and the sinister cycle would begin again. With his extraordinary masquerades, Azalin kept the nobility of II Aluk utterly in his thrall.
Then again, as Jadis knew well, the Kargat played its crucial role in the king's perfect domination of Darkon. Few of the ordinary citizens knew of the Kargat, or at least few lived long with such dread knowledge. The secret society of spies and assassins to which Jadis belonged wove itself throughout the entire realm of Darkon, like a vast spider's web in which all threads led back to the center-to the master spider, Azalin himself. The Kargat had plucked Jadis as an orphan child from the streets of II Aluk and raised her to serve the order. Though given no choice in the matter, she did adore her work. There' was nothing she would not do to serve the king.
A boy clad in a coat of golden brocade silently held out a tray of goblets toward Jadis. She took one of the glasses and raised it high.
"To you, my great king."
She lowered the goblet to her lips, then thought better of it. Not for her the dark rapture that seized the revelers. She poured the wine on the floor.
Jadis turned to find herself facing a broad-shouldered man, his face concealed by a fanciful lion mask. For a moment, she wondered if he had been sent to take her to the Kargat lord for her next mission. But no, the man's eyes were empty and ravenous behind his mask. He was simply another noble caught in the tide of lust that surged through the ballroom.
"Come with me, my lady," he said hoarsely, gesturing toward an alcove where Jadis glimpsed dozens of writhing, naked forms.
"I think not," she replied coldly. She stretched a hand before her, like a cat extending its claws, and absently examined her scarlet fingernails.
The man shook his lion's mane of long golden hair. "But I have never before seen a lady as beautiful as you. I must have you." He reached out and luxuriantly ran the back of his hand over the smoothness of her throat.
Jadis's eyes glittered. The man's body was strong and attractive beneath his tight-fitting coat and breeches, but she had no time for such diversions. Swiftly, she reached up and grasped the man's wrist, twisting it sharply. He cried out in pain.
"Find yourself different prey to feast upon, my lord," she said sharply, then'whirled to move away through the throng.
The summons came just as she descended from the promenade and stepped onto the ballroom floor. She felt something pressed into her gloved hand and turned in time to see a hooded figure disappearing through the crowd. She looked down at her hand to see a small square of crisp golden parchment. Written upon it in flowing script were the words, Seek me in the northernmost antechamber. Even as she read the message the card was consumed by a puff of crimson flame, leaving only a small disk of gold foil in her palm, engraved with the symbol of an eye surrounded by tongues of fire. Jadis's heart fluttered. The Fiery Eye was Azalin's personal intaglio. The card had come from himl She hadn't hoped to meet him directly. Truly, she had risen high in the Kargat.
Swiftly wending her way across the crowded dance floor, Jadis approached an iron door set in the north wall of the ballroom. A pair of crimson-uni- formed guards stood to either side, but neither glanced at her as she opened the portal. She stepped through and pressed the door shut behind her. The octagonal chamber beyond was empty save for a single, ornately carved mahogany chair. Jadis supposed there was nothing to do but wait. She sat down and smoothed her gown, trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart.
Without warning, the armrests of the chair swung inward, pinning her tightly against the chair's back. She let out a gasp as the silver piping that trimmed the chair's cushions snaked out, coiling around her wrists and ankles, binding her to the wooden frame. Suddenly the chair itself lurched into motion, its four legs creaking and bending, and it walked like a living thing toward a roaring fireplace. Jadis struggled to free herself, but the silver cords held her fast. Sweat beaded on her forehead as the chair approached the dancing flames. The thing swayed back and forth, lumbering nearer the hearth. It was going to bum her alive.
Abruptly the fireplace pivoted, revealing a pas- sageway. The animated chair lurched through the opening, then the fireplace swung shut. The chair walked through stifling blackness as Jadis did her best to swallow the panic that clawed at her throat. The thing must be some sort of wood golem, she realized-a construction of dead material granted life by dark enchantment. Who had forged the golem? Was it Azalin? Or some other being of power? Jadis suspected she would discover the truth soon enough. The chair moved on, twisting right and left, its rhythmic groaning echoing eerily off stone walls she could not see in the darkness. This was some sort of labyrinth. Soon Jadis's bearings were hopelessly lost. The silver cords bit painfully into her flesh as the chair heaved ceaselessly up and down, like a piece of flotsam adrift on a black, roiling sea.
The chair lurched to a halt. Jadis felt the wooden arms and silver cords release her limbs, then she sprang to her feet. A crimson radiance erupted, pushing back the darkness. She found herself standing before a dais of black porphyry. On the dais was a throne, and upon the throne sat a figure clad in a robe the color of dried blood. Swallowing her fear, she bowed deeply. "My king," she murmured. "How may your Kargat serve you?" "As you always have, my Jadis," replied the thunderous voice of the man who sat upon the throne. "With your loyalty and your adoration." "Of course, my king." Jadis had glimpsed Azalin before, on the occasion of his rare public appearances-each time concealed by heavy robes as now-but never before had she been so close to him. She could feel power and majesty radiating from him irt hot, dizzying waves. "One of my provincial barons has grown overly willful," Azalin said from the shadows of his heavy cowl. "I have learned that he has concocted some plot to usurp my power." "Then he is a fool, my king, for none could dare dream to defeat you." Chill laughter drifted down from the throne. "How truly you speak, my Jadis. Still, futile as they may be, I wish you to discover his plans and find a way to twist them to my own purposes. Let his impudent treachery serve me before i crush him in punishment." "With pleasure I will serve you, my king." "I know your loyalty, my Jadis. Details of the mission will be delivered to you." The figure rose from the throne, then moved down the steps of the dais with unnatural slowness. His robe hung eerily motionless as he moved. Jadis could smell the sour scent of fear in her own sweat. "Tell me, Jadis," Azalin whispered, though the sound of it roared in her brain. "Would you care to gaze more closely upon your king?" She forced herself to take in a shuddering breath. "If you think it necessary, Your Majesty." The robed figure nodded. "I do. You have risen high in my favor. There is a way for you to rise further yet, if you are strong enough. You have served me well with your mind, my Jadis. Would you care to serve me with your body as well?"