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“Not this time, Scale Balancer,“ she—or someone else, using her voice—hissed venomously. “This one is mine!”

Her body tensed, and, on the last word, a deadly blast of power ripped from her. It screamed across the audience chamber like a battering ram of yellow-green hunger, and the entire temple seemed to quiver on its foundations as it slammed into Kaeritha. Or, rather, into the blue nimbus blazing about her. The nimbus which deflected its deadly strength in a score of shattered streamers of vicious lightning that cracked and flared like whips of flame. Small explosions laced the chamber’s walls, shattered fountains, and incinerated two of the living priestesses where they stood, and Kaeritha felt the staggering violence of the impact in her very bones. But that was all she felt, and she smiled thinly at her foe.

“Yours, am I?” she asked, and a strange sense of duality swept through her on the tide of Tomanak’s presence. “I think not,” she repeated, and Paratha’s face twisted in mingled fury and disbelief as Tomanak’s power shed the fury of her attack.

Kaeritha’s smile was hard and cold, and she felt the call to battle throbbing in her veins. She was herself, as she had always been, and the will and courage which kept her on her feet in the face of Shigu’s hideous manifestation were her own. But behind her will, supporting it and bolstering her courage like a tried and trusted battlefield commander, was Tomanak Himself. His presence filled her as Shigu’s filled Paratha, but without submerging her. Without requiring her subservience, or making her no more than his tool. She was who she had always been—Kaeritha Seldansdaughter, champion of Tomanak—and she laughed through the choking stench of Shigu’s perversion.

Paratha’s entire face knotted with livid rage at the sound of that bright, almost joyous laugh, and the spider snarled behind her. But Kaeritha only laughed again.

“Your reach exceeds your grasp, Paratha. Or should I say Shigu?” She shook her head. “If you think you want me, come and take me!”

“You may threaten and murder my tools,” that voice hissed again, “but you’ll find Me a different matter, little champion. No mortal can stand against My power!”

“But she does not stand alone,” a voice deeper than a mountain rumbled from the air all about Kaeritha, and Paratha’s face lost all expression as she and the power using her flesh heard it.

“If we two contend openly, power-to-power, this world will be destroyed, and you with it!” Paratha’s mouth snarled the words, but the entire audience chamber shook with the grim, rumbling laugh which answered.

“This world might perish,” Tomanak agreed after a moment, “but you know as well as I which of us would be destroyed with it, Shigu.” Paratha’s lips drew back, baring her teeth like a wolf’s, but Tomanak spoke again before she could. “Yet it will not come to that. I will not permit it to.”

“And how will you stop it, fool?!” Paratha’s voice demanded with a sneer. “This is My place now, and My power fills it!”

“But you will bring no more power to it,” Tomanak said flatly. “What you have already poured into your tools you may use; all else is blocked against you. If you doubt me, see for yourself.”

Paratha’s eyes glared madly, but Kaeritha’s heart leapt as she realized it was true. She had never faced such a terrifying concentration of evil, yet that concentration was no longer growing.

“If I am blocked, then so also are you,” Paratha grated. “You can lend no more power to your tool, either!”

“My Swords are not my tools,” Tomanak replied softly. “They are my champions—my battle companions. And my champion is equal to anything such as youmight bring against her.”

“Is she indeed?” Paratha laughed wildly. “I think not.”

Her saber seemed to writhe and twist. The blade grew longer, broader, and burned with the same sick, green radiance as the giant spider and its web.

“Come to me, champion,” she crooned. “Come and die!”

She leapt forward with the words, and even as she did, the remaining priestesses charged with her. They came at Kaeritha from all sides, a wave of deadly blades, all animated and wielded by the same malign presence.

Unlike the priestesses, Kaeritha was armored. But there was only one of her, and she dared not let them swarm over her with those envenomed daggers. Nor did she care to face whatever unnatural power had been poured into Paratha’s blade while the priestesses came at her back. And so she spun to her left, away from Paratha, and her twin blades struck like serpents, trailing tails of blue fire as she ripped open the belly and throat of the nearest priestess. She vaulted the body, lashing out with her right-hand sword, and another priestess staggered away as the backhand stroke slashed the tendons behind her knee.

Paratha—or Shigu, if there was any difference—shrieked in wordless, enraged fury. Her remaining tools pursued Kaeritha, charging after her madly, and Kaeritha laughed coldly, deliberately goading Paratha with the sound.

She supposed some idiots who’d paid too much attention to bad bard’s tales might have thought it cowardly, or unchivalrous, to concentrate on her unarmored, dagger-armed foes rather than go directly for the opponent who was also armored and armed. But although Kaeritha might be a knight, she’d been born a peasant, with all a peasant’s pragmatism, and Tomanak’s Order believed in honor and justice, not stupidity. She turned again, once she was clear of the closing perimeter, and two more of Paratha’s priestesses caught up with her … and died.

Paratha’s shriek was even wilder than before, but the two surviving priestesses fell back. The sole unwounded one bent over and seized the crippled one’s arm and dragged her to one side, and Kaeritha turned once again—slowly, calmly, with a direcat’s predatory grace—to face Paratha and the flaming spider form of Shigu.

The glaring light web still connected Paratha’s body to those of the false Voice and all of the others except Kaeritha herself, living or dead, in the audience chamber. But there was a difference now. The strands connected to the dead women glared with a brighter, fiercer radiance that flared high, then faded and died. And as they died, the nimbus about Paratha blazed more brilliantly still. The bodies themselves changed, as well. They went in an instant from freshly slain corpses to dried and withered husks. Like flies in a true spider’s web, Kaeritha thought, sucked dry of all life and vitality.

Tomanak had blocked Shigu from pouring still more strength into her avatar, and so she had ripped everything from her dead servants, devouring even their immortal souls and concentrating that power in Paratha.

“Come on, ’Major Kharlan,’ “ Kaeritha invited softly. “Let’s dance.”

Paratha screamed wordlessly and charged.

Whatever else Paratha might have been, she was an experienced warrior. She had the advantage of reach, and her armor was every bit as good as Kaeritha’s. But she also realized she had only one weapon to Kaeritha’s two, and for all her shrieking fury, she was anything but berserk.

Kaeritha discovered that almost too late, when Paratha’s headlong charge suddenly transmuted into a spinning whirl to her left. The demented shriek had very nearly deceived Kaeritha into thinking her foe truly was maddened by rage, attacking in a mindless fury. But Paratha was far from mindless, and she pivoted just beyond Kaeritha’s own reach, while her longer, glowing saber came twisting in in a corkscrew thrust at Kaeritha’s face.

Kaeritha’s right hand parried the thrust wide, and their blades met in a fountaining eruption of fire. Blue and green lightning crackled and hissed, exploding against the chamber’s walls and ceiling, blasting divots out of the marble floors like handfuls of thrown gravel. She gasped, staggered by the sheer ferocity of what should have been an oblique, sliding kiss of steel on steel. No doubt Paratha had felt the same terrible shock, but if she had, it didn’t interrupt her movement. She was gone again, fading back before Kaeritha could even begin a riposte.