All of this had been little help to Haplo. The Patryn was beginning to feel that his mission here was a lost cause. He was supposed to foment chaos, make it easy for his lord to step in and take over. But on Pryan, the dwarves asked nothing more than to be let alone, the humans fought each other, and the elves supplied them. Haplo didn't stand much chance of urging the humans to war against the elves-it's difficult to attack someone who's providing you with the only means you have of attacking. No one wanted to fight the dwarves-no one wanted anything the dwarves had. The elves couldn't be stirred to conquest, apparently because the word simply wasn't in their vocabulary. "Status quo," Lenthan Quindiniar had said. "It's an ancient word meaning ... well ... 'status quo.' "

Haplo recognized the word and knew what it meant. Unchanging. Far different from the chaos he'd discovered (and helped along) in Arianus.

Watching the bright lights shining in the sky, the Patryn grew more annoyed, more perplexed. Even if I manage to stir up trouble in this realm, how many more realms am I going to have to visit to do the same thing? There could be as many realms as ... as there are shining lights in the sky. And who knows how many more beyond that? It might take me a lifetime just to find all of them! I don't have a lifetime. And neither does My Lord.

It didn't make sense. The Sartan were organized, systematic, and logical. They would never have scattered civilizations around at random like this and then left them to survive on-their own. There had to be some unifying something. Haplo didn't have a due, at this moment, how he was going to find it.

Except possibly the old man. He was crazy, obviously. But was he crazy as a gatecrasher [26] or crazy as a wolfen? The first meant he was harmless to everyone except perhaps himself, the second meant he needed to be watched. Haplo remembered his mistake in Arianus, when he'd thought a man a fool who had turned out to be anything but. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. He had a lot of questions about the old man. And as if thinking of him had conjured him (as occasionally happened in the Labyrinth), Haplo looked up to discover Zifnab looking down.

"Is that you?" came the old man's quavering voice.

Haplo rose to his feet, brushing off bits of moss.

"Oh, no, it isn't," said Zifnab in disappointment, shaking his head. "Still"-he peered closely at Haplo-"I seem to remember looking for you, too. Come, come." He took hold of Haplo's arm. "We've got to take off-Go to the rescue! Oh, dear! Nice Doggie. N-nice doggie."

Seeing a stranger accost its master, the dog left off its pursuit of nonexistent game and dashed over to confront live quarry. The animal stood in front of the wizard, bared its teeth, and growled menacingly.

"I suggest you let go of my arm, old man," advised Haplo.

"Uh, yes." Zifnab removed his hand hastily. "Fine ... fine animal." The dog's growls ceased, but it continued to regard the old man with deep suspicion.

Zifnab felt in a pocket. "I had a milk bone in here a few weeks ago. Left over from lunch. I say, have you met my dragon?"

'Is that a threat?" Haplo demanded.

"Threat?" The old wizard seemed staggered, so completely taken aback that his hat fell off. "No, of ... of course not! It's just that ... we were comparing pets ..." Zifnab lowered his voice, glanced around nervously. "Actually, my dragon's quite harmless. I've got him under this spell-"

"Come on, dog," said Haplo in disgust, and headed for his ship.

"Great Gandalf's ghost!" shouted Zifnab. "If he had a ghost. I doubt it. He was such a snob ... Where was I? Yes, rescue! Almost forgot." The old man gathered up his robes and began running along at Haplo's side. "Come on! Come on! No time to waste. Hurry!"

His white hair stood up all over his head, his beard stuck out in all directions. Zifnab clashed past Haplo. Looking back, he put his finger to his lips. "And keep it quiet. Don't want him"-he pointed downward, grimacing-"along."

Haplo came to a halt. Crossing his arms over his chest, he waited with some amusement to see the old man come crashing up against the magical barrier the Patryn had established around his vessel.

Zifnab reached the hull, laid a hand on it. Nothing happened.

"Hey, stay away from there!" Haplo broke into a run. "Dog, stop him!"

The dog sped ahead, flying over the mossy ground on silent paws, and caught hold of the old man's robes just as Zifnab was attempting to climb up over the ship's rail.

"Get back! Get back!" Zifnab flapped his hat at the dog's head. "I'll turn you into a piglet! Ast a bula-No, wait. That turns me into a piglet. Unhand me, you beast!"

"Dog, down!' ordered Haplo, and the dog obediently dropped to a sitting position, releasing the old man, keeping a watchful eye on him. "Look you, old man. I don't know how you managed to break through my magic, but I'm giving you fair warning. Stay off my ship-"

"We're going off on a trip? Well, of course we are." Zifnab reached out, gingerly patted Haplo's arm. "That's why we're here. Nice young man you've got," he added, speaking to the dog, "but addled."

The wizard hopped over the rail and proceeded across the top deck, moving toward the bridge with surprising speed and agility for one of 'advanced years.'

"Damn!" swore Haplo, bounding after him. "Dog!"

The animal leapt ahead, sped across the deck. Zifnab had already disappeared down the ladder leading to the bridge. The dog jumped after him.

Haplo followed. Sliding down the ladder, he ran after and onto the bridge, Zifnab was staring curiously at the rune-covered steering stone. The dog stood beside him, watching. The old man stretched out a hand to touch. The dog growled, and Zifnab quickly snatched his hand back.

Haplo paused in the hatchway, considering. He was a passive observer, not supposed to directly interfere with life in this world. But now he had no choice. The old man had seen the runes. Not only that, he had unraveled them. He knew, therefore, who the Patryn was. He couldn't be allowed to spread that knowledge further. Besides, he was-he must be-a Sartan.

Circumstances on Arianus prevented me from avenging myself on our ancient enemy. Now, I've got another Sartan, and this time it won't matter. No one will miss crazy Zifnab. Hell, that Quindiniar woman will probably give me a medal!

Haplo stood in the hatchway, his body blocking the bridge's only exit. "I warned you. You shouldn't have come down here, old man. Now you've seen what you shouldn't have seen." He began to unwind the bandages. "Now you're going to have to die. I know you're a Sartan. They're the only ones who have the power to unravel my magic. Tell me one thing. Where are the rest of your people?"

"I was afraid of this," said Zifnab, gazing at Haplo sadly. "This is no way for a savior to behave, you know that."

"I'm no savior. In a way, you might say I'm the opposite. I'm supposed to bring trouble, chaos, to prepare for the day when my Lord will enter this world and claim it for his own. We will rule who, by rights, should have ruled long ago. You must know who I am, now. Take a look around you, Sartan. Recognize the runes? Or maybe you've known who I was all along. After all, you predicted my coming. I'd like to know how you did that."

Unwinding the bandages, revealing the sigla tattooed on his hands, Haplo advanced on the old man.

Zifnab did not back up, did not retreat before him. The old man stood his ground, facing the Patryn with an air of quiet dignity. "You've made a mistake," he said, his voice quiet, his eyes suddenly sharp and shrewd. "I'm not a Sartan."

"Uh, huh." Haplo tossed the bandages onto the deck, rubbing the runes on his skin. "Just the fact that you're denying it proves my point. Except the Sartan were never known to lie. But then, they were never known to go senile either."

Haplo grabbed hold of the old man's arm, feeling the bones fragile and brittle in his grasp. "Talk, Zifnab, or whatever your real name is. I have the power to rupture the bones, one by one, inside your flesh. It's an extremely painful way to die. I'll start on the hands, work my way down your body. By the time I reach your spine, you'll be begging me for release."

At his feet, the dog whined and rubbed against the Patryn's knee. Haplo ignored the animal, his grip tightened around Zifnab's wrist. He placed his other hand, palm down, directly over the old man's heart. "Tell me the truth, and I'll end it quickly. What I do to bones, I can do to organs. The heart bursts. It's painful, but fast."

Haplo had to give the old man credit. Stronger men than Zifnab had trembled in the Patryn's grasp. The old man was calm. If he was afraid, he controlled his fear well.

"I am telling you the truth. I'm not a Sartan."

Haplo's grip tightened. He made ready to speak the first rune, the rune that would send a jolt of agony through the frail body. Zifnab held perfectly still.

"As for how I undid your magic, there are forces in this universe of which you have no knowledge." The eyes, never leaving Haplo's face, narrowed. "Forces that have remained hidden because you have never searched for them."

"Then why don't you use these forces to save your life, old man?"

"I am."

Haplo shook his head in disgust and spoke the first rune. The sigla on his hand glowed blue. The power flowed from his body into the old man's. Haplo could feel wrist bones burst and turn to mush in his grip. Zifnab gave a suppressed groan.

Haplo barely saw, out of the corner of his eye, the dog hurtling through the air toward him. He had time to raise his arm to block the attack. The force of the blow knocked him to the deck, slammed the air from his body. He lay gasping, trying to catch his breath. The dog stood over him, licking his face.

"Dear, dear. Are you hurt, my boy?" Zifnab leaned over him solicitously, offering a hand to help him up-the same hand Haplo had crushed.

Haplo stared at it, saw the wrist bones standing out clearly beneath the stretched, aged skin. They appeared whole and intact. The old man had not spoken any runes, traced any in the air. Haplo, studying the field of magic around him, could detect no sign that it had been disturbed. But he had felt the bone break!

Shoving the old man's hand aside, Haplo regained his feet. "You're good," he acknowledged. "But how long can you keep it up? An old geezer like you." He took a step toward the old man and halted.

The dog stood between them.

"Dog! Get!" ordered Haplo.

The animal held its ground, gazed up at its master with unhappy, pleading eyes.

Zifnab, smiling gently, patted the black-furred head. "Good boy. I thought so." He nodded wisely, solemnly. "I know all about the dog, you see."

"Whatever the devil that means!"

"Precisely, dear boy," said the old man, beaming at him. "And now that we're all nicely acquainted, we'd best be on our way." Zifnab turned around, hovered over the steering stone, rubbing his hands eagerly. "I'm really curious to see how this works." Reaching into a pocket of his mouse-colored robes, he pulled out a chain to which nothing was attached, and stared at it. "My ears and whiskers! We're late."

Haplo glared at the dog. "Get!"

The dog slunk down on its belly, crawled across the deck and took refuge in a corner. Head lying on its paws, the animal whimpered. Haplo took a step toward the old man.

"Let's get this show on the road!" Zifnab stated emphatically, snapping shut nothing and slipping the chain back in his pocket. "Paithan's in danger-"

"Paithan." Haplo paused.

"Quindiniar's son. Fine lad. You can ask him those questions you've been wanting to ask: all about the political situation among the humans, what it would take to make the elves go to war, how to stir up the dwarves. Paithan knows all the answers. Not that it will make much difference now." Zifnab sighed, shook his head. "Politics don't matter to the dead. But we'll save some of them. The best and the brightest. And, now, we really must be going." The old man gazed around with interest. "How do you fly this contraption anyway?"

Irritably scratching the tattoos on the back of his hand, Haplo stared at the old wizard.

A Sartan-he has to be! That's the only way he could heal himself. Unless he didn't heal himself. Maybe I made a mistake in the rune-twining, maybe I only thought I crushed his wrist. And the dog, protecting him. That doesn't mean much.

The animal takes strange likings. There was that time on Arianus when the mutt saved the life of that dwarven woman I was going to have to kill.

Destroyer, savior ...

"All right, old man. I'll go along with whatever game you're playing." Haplo knelt down, scratched the dog's silky ears. The animal's tail brushed the floor, pleased that all was forgiven. "But just until I figure out the rules. When I do, it's winner take all. And I intend to win."

Straightening, he placed his hands upon the steering stone. "Where are we headed?"

Zifnab blinked, confused. "I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea," he admitted. "But, by god!" he added solemnly. "I'll know when I get there!"

CHAPTER 26.

VARSPORT, THILLIA.

THE DRAGONSHIP SKIMMED OVER THE TOPS OF THE TREES. HAPLO FLEW IN.

the direction according to what he'd been told were the human landholdings. Zifnab peered out the window, anxiously watching the landscape slide away beneath them.

"The gulf!" the old man cried out suddenly. "We're close. Ah, dear, dear."

"What's going on?"

Haplo could make out a line of elves drawn up in military formation along the shore. He sailed out farther over the water. Smoke from distant fires obscured his view momentarily. A gust of wind blew the smoke apart, and Haplo could see a burning city, masses of people swarming onto the beach. A few hundred feet from shore, a boat was sinking, to judge by the number of black dots visible in the water.

'Terrible, terrible," Zifnab ran a trembling hand through his sparse white hair. "You'll have to fly lower. I can't see."

Haplo was interested in having a closer look himself. Maybe he'd been wrong about the peaceful situation in this realm. The dragonship swooped low. Many on the shore, feeling the dark shadow pass over them, looked up, pointed. The crowd wavered, some starting to run from what might be a new threat, others milling about aimlessly, realizing that there was no place to go.

Wheeling Dragon Wing around, Haplo made another pass. Elven archers on a boat in the middle of the gulf lifted their bows, turned their arrows on the ship. The Patryn ignored them, soared low to get a better view. The runes protecting his ship would protect them against the puny weapons of this world.

"There! There! Turn! Turn!" The old man clutched at Haplo, almost dragging him off his feet. Zifnab pointed into a densely wooded area, not far from the shoreline where the crowds of people were massed. The Patryn steered the ship in the direction indicated.

"I can't see a thing, old man."

"Yes! Yes!" Zifnab was hopping up and down in anxiety. The dog, sensing the excitement, leapt about the deck, barking frantically.

"The grove, down there! Not much room to land, but you can make it."

Not much room. Haplo bit back the words he would have liked to use to describe his opinion of their landing site-a small clearing, barely visible beneath a tangle of trees and vines. He was about to tell the wizard that it would be impossible to set his ship down, when a closer, grudging look revealed that-if he altered the magic and pulled the wings in tight-there might be a chance.

"What do we do once we get down there, old man?"

"Pick up Paithan, the two humans, and the dwarf."

"You still haven't told me what's going on."

Zifnab turned his head, regarded Haplo with a shrewd look. "You must see for yourself, my boy. Otherwise, you wouldn't believe."

At least that's what Haplo thought he said. He couldn't be sure, over the dog's barking. Undoubtedly I'm about to put my ship down in the middle of a raging battle. Coming in low, he could see the small group in the clearing, see their faces staring up at him.

"Hold on!" he shouted to the dog ... and the old man, if he was listening. "It's going to be rough!"

The ship smashed through the tops of the trees. Limbs dragged at them, snapped and broke apart. The view out the window was obscured by a mass of green, the ship lurched and pitched. Zifnab fell forward, ended up straddle-legged against the glass. Haplo hung on to the steering stone. The dog spread its legs, fighting for purchase on the canting deck.

A grinding crash, and they broke through, swooping into the clearing. Wrestling with the ship, Haplo caught a glimpse of the mensch he was going to rescue, huddled together at one edge of the jungle, apparently uncertain if this was salvation or more trouble.

"Go get them, old man!" Haplo told the wizard. "Dog, stay."

The animal had been about to bound gleefully after Zifnab, who had unpeeled himself from the window and was tottering toward the ladder leading to the upper deck.

The dog obediently sank back down, gazing upward with intense eagerness, tail wagging. Haplo silently cursed himself and this crazy situation. He would have to keep his hands bare to fly and was wondering how he would explain the sigla tattooed on his skin when a sudden blow against the hull sent a shudder through the ship.

Haplo almost lost his footing. "No," he muttered to himself. 'It couldn't be."

Holding his breath, every sense alert, the Patryn held perfectly still and waited.

The blow came again, stronger, more powerful. The hull shivered, the vibrations tore into the magic, tore into the wood, tore into Haplo.