"Such is not our luck," Astron said. "And if the words of that Milligan are true, never will it be. It was only the lifetimes of unspent luck that we brought with us upon entry to the realm that ensured our rescue from the sea and a language that you and Phoebe understand as well as I. But Jelilac and Milligan evidently have drained all of that away. The ordinary trapping skills from the realm of men will do us little good here. We must approach the cause of our problem, rather than deal with its symptoms."

'That is easy enough for you to say," Phoebe growled irritably. "You do not need food and water as do the rest of us."

"I am well aware of the metabolic needs of men," Astron said. He waved his arm toward the treeiine in the

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distance. "Despite the peril, we must leave the sterile surroundings of this beach."

"Or perhaps we should all clutch these talismans and hope that a gamefowl walks out of the forest and lies down at our feet," Phoebe said.

"That is the essence of the solution," Astron agreed. "In this realm, we must strive to increase our luck and raise it to the point that the improbable happens as a matter of course. Then whatever we need will immediately follow."

"Yes, Astron is right." Nimbia pulled at the chains about her neck. "We have only survived as well as we have because of whatever minimal protection these necklaces provide."

"And how does one go about effecting this increase?" Kestrel said. "We have no masts or ladders here, and even Milligan was unsure of what would be the result."

"That is only one way," Astron said. "Surely the alea-tors have many other means. We must approach them again, only this time much better prepared."

"1 do not care for the likes of Jelilac." Phoebe shook her head. "Perhaps others will be the same. We must instead act on our own. Despite your misgivings, Astron, contacting Camonel is our best chance."

Before Astron could reply, he heard a deep sighing noise from the direction of the water. He looked seaward and saw the foaming crestline of waves begin a rapid retreat, exposing the slope of land far beneath the extent of the lowest tide. Astron looked farther out over the ocean. Although he could not be sure, the line between the water and the sky seemed much higher than he had remembered it before.

"What is it?" Kestrel asked.

"A wall of moving water," Astron said. "Just as Milligan hinted-a tidal wave, some among your realm call it. Quickly, there is little time. Run for higher ground and climb into the trees." He raced over to where Nimbia sat and pulled her to her feet. Spinning her about, he shoved her in the direction of the slope rising from the beach.

Kestrel pounded his fist into his hands. "What rotten

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luck," he growled. In apparent frustration, he reached up to pull the talismans from his neck, but then thought better of it. He lifted Phoebe from the ground. In imitation of, Astron and Nimbia, they began running hillward on a slightly different path.i

Astron and Nimbia sprinted up over the sandy ground into the darkness of the forest without speaking. Nimbia paused a moment at the base of the first climbable tree she found, but Astron motioned her onward. Stumbling into darkness, they picked their way farther into the dense canopy. Behind him, Astron could hear a muted roar drawing closer. Kestrel and Phoebe were nowhere to be seen.

Finally Astron stopped and pointed at a low-hanging branch. Together he and Nimbia scrambled up from limb to limb into the foliage. Despite his scales, rough branches sc.r.a.ped against his hands and snagged his leggings, but he did not pause to pick at the splinters. His head poked through to sunlight as he pulled himself to a slender, swaying branch that barely held his weight. Looking seaward, he saw the huge wave crest and topple over upon itself. With a booming crash, a wall of foaming water pounded onto the beach and began racing uphill.

The sandy slope was covered in an instant. Like popping embers in a fire, the trunks of the closest trees snapped from the impact and then were buried under the waterline. The dense grove of timber slowed the rush, but still it roared up the hillside. Astron flicked down his membranes, hoping that the fury of the onrush would be spent before it reached them. He saw row after row of treetops disappear beneath the churning sea and huge trunks bobbing up behind, completely stripped of foliage. The cool sea-green muted into muddy browns, and a web of debris formed on the once clear surface of the water.

The wave front surged closer, slowing as it came. Midway up the slope, the breathtaking speed seemed to be blunted. Then the wave top crashed, to rise no more. But still the water level climbed higher in a relentless swell. Astron saw the first tendrils snake about the base of the tree in which he had climbed and then the water level rise

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above the ground. Swiftly, the lower branches were submerged. Astron tested what remained of the trunk above his head but he already knew he could climb no more.

He looked across to Nimbia, hanging awkwardly on the branch across from his own. Before he could speak, the cold water reached his feet and then surged over his head. With an irresistible pull, he was yanked from his perch and then struck in the side by an uprooted trunk. Astron thrust his hands into the thick and deeply grooved bark and grabbed hold of the log as it pa.s.sed. He scrambled around the side and thrust his head into the air, just in time to see Nimbia floating past. Releasing part of his grip, he grabbed and pulled her to the trunk. Dimly, he was aware of pa.s.sing over a crest and then tipping downward to cascade into an interior valley below.

The next few moments were a blur of splashing spray and jarring caroms off of the trees on the downslope side. Somehow, Astron and Nimbia managed to hang on to the trunk that bore them and at the same time avoid being caught between it and the other trees into which it crashed. They reached the bottom of the small valley and then hurled partway up the other side. The water slowed gradually to a halt. With a slow ponderous motion, it reversed direction and began to move back down toward the valley floor. But its momentum was nearly spent. The trunk moved sluggishly with the flow. With one final bone-jarring jolt, it crashed to the ground, letting the burbling water race ahead.

Astron held on to his grip for a few moments more, listening to the hiss and gurgle receding into silence. Slowly he dismounted and slid his feet to the ground. In a moment, Nimbia joined him, her face blanked in a daze. Oblivious to their deliverance, she looked at the wet clothing that sagged about the curve of her body.

"If you had the power of weaving, you could dry these instantly," Nimbia said. She fussed a moment at her tunic, still not mended from the battles in the realm of reticulates. "But since you do not, demon, turn your head while I disrobe."

Mixing with the dizziness of their ride, Astron felt a

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subtle stirring in his stembrain, a tantalizing feeling from before, which he could not quite recognize. They should immediately begin searching for Kestrel and Phoebe, but something else tugged at him.

Astron started to answer, then halted. A flicker of movement up the interior slope above the high-water mark had caught his eye. Almost thankful for the distraction, he touched Nimbia's shoulder and pointed at what he saw. A small tendril of smoke struggled skyward from the foliage.

"Perhaps another aleator," he whispered. "One evidently with luck to burn. Keep on your clothing. This time we will be more forewarned."

Astron led Nimbia up the hillside. The ground became far more rocky and the canopy of trees gave way to scrubbier underbrush and finally an open clearing. Astron strode forward boldly, mustering as much dignity as he could in his soggy clothing. He saw a single figure sitting on a rock beside a small fire, over which was roasting some sort of pig. A horse was hobbled nearby. Next to it, a large pack was propped against a small tent of bright blue.

Upon the noise of their approach, the man looked up slowly from his contemplation, but no expression of surprise crossed his face. Cold blue eyes stared out under a head of golden blond hair, cut shoulder length and straight, with no curl. The face held the smoothness of youth, unwrinkled and without trouble-almost that of a child just aroused from sleep. Broad shoulders, heavily muscled, flexed under a thin, sleeveless shirt that sparkled with an iridescence in the last rays of sunlight filtering into the clearing. The throat of the shirt was thrown open; not a single talisman dangled about the sinewy neck.

"Whom do you seek?" A measured voice cut across the distance, each word unhurried and more of a command than a question.

"Did you not hear the crash of the wave?" Astron walked forward, motioning Nimbia to follow. "I would expect to find anyone who was able to hear its warning cautiously returning to ground from the safety of a high tree, rather than calmly fixing a meal."

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"The wave would have reached Byron or it would not." The man shrugged. "There is no need to prepare for what is meant to be."

Astron hesitated a moment and searched about wildly for one of the spheres that MUligan had used to capture his and the others' luck. He saw no signs of one and took another step forward. After his experience with the re-flectives, it seemed far easier than before. "You are one of exceedingly good fortune," he said. "I have heard that even the smallest fire dissipates what one has acc.u.mulated back into the ether."

Byron looked at Astron sharply. "Are you here to tempt me?" he said. "To test and see if I am worthy?" He stopped and darted his eyes to Nimbia as she approached. Astron watched Byron's nostrils flare and his hands suddenly coil into fists. The warrior's eyes ran slowly over her body and torn tunic. The beat of his pulse stood out strongly on his neck.

"You tempt me, indeed." Byron's voice rumbled quietly. "What is it that you would have me do?"

Astron scowled in annoyance. He recognized the reaction and understood it far better than before. Stepping in front of Nimbia, he threw wide his arms, shielding her as much as he was able.

"We might have something of great benefit," he said quickly. "It all depends on what you can offer as a fair payment in exchange."

'*lf it is luck of which you speak, then there is no basis for a barter," Byron said. "I have none to offer, nor do I seek any for what I must do."

Astron stirred uncomfortably. "What exactly is it that, ah, that you must do?" he asked.

"Why, travel to the grand casino to contest for the crown with all the others," Byron said. He slapped the long broadsword at his side. "But not in the same manner. If I succeed, it will be because fate wills it, not because of twists of luck."

Astron's interest immediately heightened-the grand casino, exactly where he wanted to go. Only with a firm

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resolution did he stop himself from looking back at Nim-bia with a smile. "We have experienced firsthand what happens without luck," he said carefully. "Just to survive takes more than a little amount."

"Only because some of the aleators have so distorted it," Byron spat. "They lead the realm to destruction with their tinkering, they work with fluids better left alone. Look," he said, apparently warming to the subject. "The first tenet says that luck is a gas, a perfect one that flows from high pressure to low. Without interference, it distributes itself evenly throughout the realm, favoring no one over another. The forces of fate are free to operate, to work the destinies that are intended for us all,