In five minutes, seventeen of the twenty meisters were riddled with arrows and the Khalidoran line was stretching at the middle. The giant Cenarian who'd led the first charge seemed to be a beacon of hope. Wherever he went, the Cenarians pushed to go there, too. And now, he was pushing to cut all the way through the Khalidoran line.

Caedan muttered an oath. "Where did they they come from?" he asked. The magi followed his eyes. Rank upon rank of Khalidoran highlanders were forming up to each side of the battlefield. come from?" he asked. The magi followed his eyes. Rank upon rank of Khalidoran highlanders were forming up to each side of the battlefield.

"The caves," Wervel said. "What are they doing?"

The highlanders spread out and jogged toward the flanks and back of the battle. There were at least five hundred of them, but they didn't charge into the battle. They didn't seem at all disturbed that they were losing the advantage of surprise. They spread their line thinner and thinner, as if to cup the entire rear of the battle.

"Sir," Caedan said. "I thought you only tried to surround an enemy if you outnumbered him."

Lord Lucius looked disturbed. He was looking to the back of the Khalidoran line where the Vurdmeisters were gathered. "What is that chained between the Vurdmeisters?"

"That isn't a-" one magus said.

"Surely not. They're just legend and superst.i.tion."

"May the G.o.d have mercy," Wervel said. "It is."

67

No," Vi said. "I can't."

Kylar turned the face of judgment on her.

"You-you don't know what he's like. You've never looked into his eyes. When you see yourself in his eyes, you look in the face of your own wretchedness. Please, Kylar."

Kylar gnashed his teeth. He looked away. It seemed like it took conscious effort, but slowly that terrifying mask melted away and his own face emerged-his eyes still icy cold.

"You know, my master was wrong about you. He was there when Hu Gibbet presented you to the Sa'kage. He told me how you trashed those other wetboys. He told me that if I didn't watch out, you'd be the best wetboy of our generation. He called you a prodigy. He said that there wouldn't be five men in the kingdom who could beat you. But they don't have to. You've beaten yourself. Durzo was wrong. You aren't even in the same cla.s.s as me."

"f.u.c.k you! You don't know-"

"Vi, this is what matters. If you're not with me now, it's all horses.h.i.t."

As his eyes bored into her, she felt herself changing. She was angry at herself, and at him, and at herself again. She couldn't let Kylar down. She had never let anything be more important than herself. And now, in the blind stupidity of infatuation, it was more important that she have this man's respect than that she live.

The infuriating thing was that it wasn't even a contest. And yet her weakness for Kylar was propelling her toward strength against the one she really should fear-Nysos! This was all too confusing.

"Fine!" she practically spat. "Turn your back!"

"Got a dagger?" Kylar asked as he turned.

"Shut up, you smug sonuvab.i.t.c.h." Oh, brilliant, Vi. You realize you like him, so you insult him-for helping you find your guts. Oh, brilliant, Vi. You realize you like him, so you insult him-for helping you find your guts. She pulled off the dress and pulled on her wetboy tunic. She was being a real wench. AAAHHH! She'd just had eight emotions in the s.p.a.ce of three seconds. She pulled off the dress and pulled on her wetboy tunic. She was being a real wench. AAAHHH! She'd just had eight emotions in the s.p.a.ce of three seconds.

"Fine," she said. "You can turn back around. I'm sorry for... before. I was hoping to-" What had she been hoping? To impress him? Entice him? To see the heat of desire in those cool eyes? "-to shock you," she said.

"You, uh, succeeded."

"I know." She couldn't help but smile. "You're not like any man I've ever known, Kylar. You've got this, this, innocence about you."

He scowled.

"When you've been where I've been, it's really... cute. I mean, I didn't know guys could be like you." Why was she running off at the mouth all of the sudden?

"You barely know me," Kylar said.

"I... s.h.i.t, it's not just like it's a list of facts that prove you're different, Kylar. You feel different." She was fl.u.s.tered. Was he being deliberately dense?

"Ah, f.u.c.k it," she said. "Do you think we could ever work out?"

"What?" Kylar asked. The tone of his voice should have shut her up. Kylar asked. The tone of his voice should have shut her up.

"You know. You and me. Together."

Incredulity spread across his face, and the expression confirmed every d.a.m.ning thought she'd ever had about herself.

"No," Kylar said. "No, I don't think so."

No, she could tell he meant, you're damaged goods.

She shut down. "Right," she said. Once a wh.o.r.e, forever a wh.o.r.e. "Right. Well, we've got work to do. I've got a plan."

Kylar looked poised on the verge of saying something. She'd caught him totally off guard. s.h.i.t, what did she expect?

Nysos, so he looked at your t.i.ts. So he's nice to you. You're still the one who killed his best friend, kidnapped his daughter, and split up his family. s.h.i.t, Vi, what were you thinking?

"All right," she said before he could say anything. "If we go in the side here, they'll know it's an attack. We have no idea what their strength is or how many of them there are. But if I walk right in to report on your, well, your death, they won't suspect a thing. If you go in the side door, you can decide when to strike. As soon as I see palies go down-preferably starting with the king-I'll fight too, all right?"

"Sounds pretty weak," Kylar said. "But it also sounds better than anything I've got. But one thing..." He trailed off.

"What?" She was eager to go now, to stop talking, stop messing up.

"If he kills me, Vi... Get my body out of there. You can't let them have it."

"What do you care?"

"Just do it."

"Why!" Now she was taking her frustration out on him. Beautiful.

"Because I come back. I don't stay dead."

"You're mad."

He held up a black shiny ball. It melted and wrapped around his hand like a glove. His hand disappeared. A moment later, it was a ball again. "If Ursuul takes this, he takes my powers. All of them."

She scowled. "If we make it through this, you have a lot of questions to answer."

"Fair enough." Kylar paused. "Vi? It's been good working with you." Not waiting for her response, he squeezed the ball and disappeared.

Vi turned down the hall and started walking. Ironically, she ran into no patrols at all until she came to the four soldiers guarding the main doors of the throne room. The men eyed her with disbelief. They seemed to forget their weapons as their eyes lingered exactly where they were supposed to.

"Tell the G.o.dking that Vi Sovari has come to receive her reward."

"The G.o.dking isn't to be disturbed except in the case of-"

"This counts," Vi hissed at the man, first leaning forward until his eyes were pegged to her cleavage and then pushing his chin back up with the knife that had materialized in her hand. He swallowed.

"Yes, ma'am."

The guard eased the great double doors open. "G.o.d, our G.o.d of the High Realms, Your Holiness, Vi Sovari begs admittance."

The guard stepped aside and motioned to her. "Good luck," he whispered, smiling apologetically. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d. How dare he be human? The b.a.s.t.a.r.d. How dare he be human?

Standing in the last hall, Kylar brought the ka'kari to his eyes. He didn't see any magical alarms. Invisible, he moved to the door. The hinges were well-oiled.

"Come in, come in, Viridiana," he heard the G.o.dking say. "It's been too long. I was afraid I was going to have to enjoy the death of ten thousand rebels all by myself."

Kylar cracked the door open as the G.o.dking spoke, and as the man took in the admittedly impressive sight of Vi in her version of wetboy grays, Kylar stole into the throne room. He slipped behind one of the enormous pillars supporting the ceiling. The servants' entrance he'd used opened near the base of the fourteen steps to the dais. Ursuul sat at the top of the steps in his black firegla.s.s throne.

In the center of the vast room was a rolling plain at the base of the mountains. There were tiny figures on each side of the plain, moving in concert. Kylar realized they were miniature armies, lining up in the dawn light. It wasn't a painting or embroidery of a battle; it was a battle. Fifteen thousand tiny, tiny figures strode across the plain. Kylar could even pick out flags of the n.o.ble houses. The Cenarian lines were forming up, following... Logan? Logan was leading the charge? Madness! How could Agon let the king lead a charge?

The great doors closed behind Vi as the G.o.dking waved her in. Kylar had never seen the man, or even heard him described. He'd expected someone old and decrepit, swollen or sagging from a life of evil, but Garoth Ursuul was in excellent health. He was perhaps fifty, looked at least ten years younger, and though he had the thick body and cool skin of a Khalidoran highlander, he had a fighting man's arms, a lean face with an oiled black beard, and a head shaved bald and gleaming. He looked like the kind of man who not only would shake your hand but when he did, you'd find calluses and a firm grip.

"Don't mind the battle," the G.o.dking said. "You can walk through it; it won't harm the magic, but be quick. The rebels are about to charge. It's my favorite part." won't harm the magic, but be quick. The rebels are about to charge. It's my favorite part."

Through the ka'kari, however, Garoth Ursuul was a miasma. Twisted, screaming faces streamed behind him like a cloud. Murder lay so thick on him it blotted out his features. Betrayals and rapes and casual tortures wreathed his limbs. Threaded through it all, like noxious green smoke, was the vir. It somehow fed off and deepened all that darkness, and it was so powerful it seemed to fill the room.

As he stood behind the pillar, Kylar noticed a small group of the tiny men fighting three feet away from him. Off the battlefield proper, a big man was about to be ridden down by four Khalidoran lancers.

Except the man wasn't ridden down. In seconds, he killed three lancers. There was something familiar about him. Feir Cousat! Feir Cousat!

Kylar knew he should be trying to figure out a way to move without being seen, but he was rapt in the drama unfolding silently, inches away. The Ceurans' parted leader came forward. Feir drew a sword that looked like a bar of fire. It stunned the Ceurans. Feir and the leader fought for about half a second: the first time their swords crossed, there was a flash of light. The Ceuran came away with the sword.

"What was that?" the G.o.dking said.

"What?" Vi asked.

"Out of the way, girl."

As Feir knelt before the Ceuran (knelt? Feir?), the image of the battle suddenly spun around, putting the Khalidoran lines at the base of the steps and the Cenarian lines close to the great doors.

Garoth hmmphed. "Just some raiders."

Kylar brought some of the ka'kari to his fingertips, sharpened it into a claw, and tested it against the pillar. His fingers sank in like it was b.u.t.ter. He eased back on the magic and tried again until he was able to sink his fingers in and get a grip. This is going to be fun.

He shook his head. It seemed the ka'kari had no limitations, and that was just making Kylar more aware of his own.

Kylar sent some of the ka'kari to his feet and climbed the pillar. There was a tiny hiss and a tinge of smoke at every step, but it was as effortless as climbing a ladder. Kylar reached the fifty-foot ceiling in seconds.

Figuring out how to adjust the claws to work on the ceiling took a few seconds, but then he was clinging to the throne room's high, vaulted ceiling like a spider. His heart was in his throat. He crept across the ceiling until he was directly above the throne, his body shielded from view by one of the arches, only his invisible head exposed.

The G.o.dking gave a running commentary to Vi. "No," he was saying, "I don't know why the Cenarians are using that formation. Seems awfully open to me."

Kylar watched, upside down, as the Cenarian ranks slammed into the Khalidoran line. The first rank to hit them was thin-he wondered if they'd lost so many from the archers, but a few seconds later, the next line slammed into them.

The G.o.dking cursed. "d.a.m.n them, brilliant. Brilliant."

"What is it?" Vi asked.

"Do you know why I made all this, Vi?"

Heart pounding, Kylar released the ceiling with his hands and slowly uncurled, upside down. He drew his daggers, hanging on the ceiling with his feet, bat-like. Garoth Ursuul stepped directly beneath him.

Then there was no fear, only calm certainty. Kylar dropped from the ceiling.

One of the dark faces twisting in the miasma around the G.o.dking screamed. Green-black caltrops of vir burst in every direction from the G.o.dking. Kylar hit one and they all exploded.

The concussion blasted Kylar off course. He sprawled sideways, missed his landing, and tumbled down the stairs. He rolled across the landing and down the second flight. When he came to rest at the bottom of the stairs, his head was ringing. He tried to stand and promptly fell.

"I made it because a G.o.d ought to have some fun. Don't you agree, Kylar?" Garoth smiled a predatory smile. He wasn't surprised. "So, Vi, you've done what you promised. You killed Jarl, and you brought Kylar to me."

Kylar had trusted her. How could he have been so foolish? It was the second time he'd walked into a trap in this room. Inexplicably, he felt calm. He felt lethal. He hadn't come this far to fail. This kill was his destiny.

"I didn't betray you, Kylar," Vi said in a small, desperate voice.

"Oh, he put a spell on you that made you do it? I gave you a chance, Vi. You could have been different."

"She didn't betray you," the G.o.dking said. "You betrayed yourself." He pulled out two diamonds, each the size of his thumb. They were the ones that had held the monster downstairs together. "Who else would have the physical prowess to s.n.a.t.c.h these but a wetboy, and who else could survive the magic but the bearer of the black ka'kari? I've known you were here for an hour."

"So, why are you going to reward her?" Kylar asked.

"What, you want me to kill her, too?"

Kylar scowled. "I did until you said that."

The G.o.dking laughed. "You're an orphan, aren't you, Kylar?"

"No," Kylar said. He stood. His head was slowly clearing, and he could swear he could feel his body healing his bruises.

"Oh right, the Drakes. Magdalyn told me all about that. She thought you'd save her. Sad. When you killed Hu Gibbet, you really upset me. So I killed her."