"I'm sure that can be arranged," said Laquatas, thinking he too would like to see that battle, but later.

"All I ask in return for our services is some help in settling the little feud I am having with Llawan, the usurper of the mer throne. Once I, the rightful ruler of the sea, am installed as emperor, our two peoples can enrich the lives of each other through open trade, open business arrangements, and the strength of our two militaries allied together against incursions from enemy powers. Think of it, Braids. You, with the Mirari, will own the pits. I, with my throne, will own the sea. Together we will own all of Otaria."

Laquatas sat back in his chair, his projection mimicking the movement. Satisfied with his presentation, he glanced over at an inscrutable Talbot. Good boy, thought the former ambassador. He could even fool me with that rock-solid demeanor. As Laquatas looked back at Braids, he was shaken to see that she was looking straight at him for the first time during the entire meeting.

"Your proposal is intriguing, ambassador," she said, smiling. "What is it you wish me to do?"

"You do realize we can't trust her sire," said Talbot through the mirror later that night.

"Of course, Talbot," replied Laquatas. "If she had any wits about her, I'm sure she would have gone straight to the First to tell him how I tried to buy her loyalty with that trinket."

"Then why did we go through with the meeting?" asked the confused mer.

"Look, we know Veza got to the First before we did, and that he most likely has everything he needs from Llawan's empire already. We could not buy his help at this point even if it was offered. But Braids will want the Mirari back for all the reasons I gave her, plus the draw of that power is too powerful to ignore to those who have touched it. Even if she betrays us in the end, she will still do what we need of her in the interim."

"What if Braids gets the Mirari herself?"

"Oh, I have faith in our barbarian friend. No single force will be able to wrest the Mirari from his hands, and once she flushes him out, we'll be ready to lend a helping hand in its retrieval. Then, once we have the Mirari, it won't matter if Braids betrays us or not. And, if by some chance she does get it, our friends from the Citadel will be there to make sure she never gets it back to the Cabal."

"A fine plan my lord," said Talbot. "Will there be anything else? It has been a long day, and I wish to retire to a pool."

"One last thing," said Laquatas, who was already lounging in his own pool. "About Veza. Is there anything still between the two of you?"

"Oh, sire, I assure you that was over long ago," said a quite flustered Talbot. "There is no love between me and that traitor now."

"I believe you Talbot," replied Laquatas. "But I wish for you to rekindle those old passions once again, for the good of the new mer empire."

"Sire?"

"That low-born mer has been a hook in my fins for far too long," said Laquatas, grimacing at the memories. "It is long past time for her to pay for her sins against her fellow mer. You will rebuild your relationship with her, so you can get close to her and find out what Llawan is planning. At the same time, you can feed her false information about our own plans to keep that old octopus on the throne from interfering again."

Laquatas looked hard at Talbot's face in the mirror. "That won't be a problem, will it, Talbot?"

"No, sire," replied Talbot, unable to bring his eyes up to meet the gaze of his ruler. "I am sure I can make her believe that I still care for her, and I will do as you ask. I will not kill her, though, my lord."

"Perish the thought, Talbot," said Laquatas smiling again. "When this is all over she will be welcomed into the new mer empire. There will be an honored place in my sea for all mer. If she recants her deeds against us, I might even give her back her old job. If not, she can be your slave."

"The Cabal is here," intoned Braids."And everywhere," responded the First.

"I have met with the slimy merman as you asked, Pater," said Braids, looking from the First to the bindings on the chair- bindings she had never found a way to break.

"I know," replied the First, smiling.

"As expected, he offered me the power of the Orb in exchange for my help in his private little war."

"What did you say?" asked the First, as he circled around behind his guest's chair.

"As you requested, I agreed to his terms and sent him away feeling he had won the negotiations," said Braids as she attempted to summon a small pet to peer behind her at the First. As usual, the attempt failed.

"Is the chair still necessary, Pater? Haven't I tirelessly proven my loyalty to you and the Cabal?"

"Yes, you have Braids. You are as loyal as Chainer ever was, up until the time he banished me to Aphetto," replied the First, once again pacing around in front of his second in command. "But to answer your first question, no the chair is not necessary as you well know. It merely amuses me. Now, what shall we do about the poor, former ambassador?"

Braids stopped squirming in the chair and tried to concentrate, but without her shadows constantly swirling around her head and inside her mind, the almost total silence of her world made it hard to think.

"You do realize, Pater, that he will betray us at his first chance. Already he is scheming with the Order, though he professes it is only to help the Cabal."

"Of course, Braids," said the First. "Laquatas is constantly scheming. He plots against everyone, trying to pit his allies against his enemies and his enemies against anyone but himself. His constant lies will eventually be his undoing-not because he's evil. He's just not very good at it."

Braids nodded her agreement. "I have told Laquatas that I will send a large force into the Pardic Mountains to raze Kamahl's village and retrieve the Mirari from the ashes," she said.

"Obviously he knows that won't work," said the First. "An open assault on the mountains is suicide for any single force. We are merely to be a diversion for his real plan."

The First circled behind the bound dementia summoner again. "As I told you, he is a poor liar."

"Yes, Pater," replied Braids, "but he was correct in one thing. The Mirari would bring great profit to the Cabal coffers. It would be foolish to pass up a chance to retrieve it."

Braids heard a rustling sound behind her as the First moved, but he did not reappear in front of her.

Instead she heard the massive doors open and then silence.

"Pater?" she asked. "Are we to pass up this chance, or should we try to help that despicable mer get hold of the orb? Pater?"

"Neither," said the First as he walked around to face Braids once again. "We shall choose a different course entirely. A frontal assault would be suicide, but we do have other tactics we can utilize."

As he finished speaking, Braids suddenly heard an ominous rattling sound from all around her. Looking up and back around as far as she could, she saw several snake-headed men surrounding her. She didn't even hear them until they began rattling. Their heads swayed back and forth as she watched them "Meet my new assassination squad, direct from Chainer's mind to my service," said the First. "Five rattlers, each with the strength of a barbarian and the poisonous tongue of a mer. The perfect foils for our two enemies. You will lead them into the mountains where they will eliminate the barbarian problem and retrieve that which is ours. Once we have the orb back in the coffers, I will deal with that deceitful mer myself for the role he played in my banishment. That is all."

"Yes, Pater," said Braids, fearful of a dementia monster for the first time in a very long time. "The Cabal is here."

"And everywhere."

CHAPTER 6.

Over a meal of hard bread and jacke-lope stew, Kamahl regaled Jeska and Balthor with his adventures chasing the Mirari around Otaria and the people he'd met along the way.

"Chainer was strong," said Kamahl as Balthor cleared the bowls from the table. "Strong of will and a cunning fighter. How can 1 hope to control the Mirari when he couldn't?" "By learning from his mistakes,"

replied Jeska as she gnawed on the last hunk of bread. "Chainer gave into his desires. You know that now and understand the danger. That is a strength that Chainer did not have. Cultivate that strength."

"Perhaps," muttered Kamahl. "But what if there's no time? Everyone wants the Mirari. The only reason 1 agreed to take it when Chainer died was to keep it from the likes of Laquatas. His warriors could attack at any time. If I don't learn how to control its power quickly, I could destroy us all trying to keep it safe.""Why not just give it to them Order fellows, then?" asked Balthor who'd brought some mead to the table. "Let 'em destroy it likes they want."

"Even the Order can't be trusted with the Mirari. They've proven that already when Kirtar destroyed half the Citadel," said Kamahl. "Besides, they don't trust me. I'm the 'Citadel Butcher' to them. I'd have to kill half their forces just to talk to them." Kamahl downed his flagon in one gulp and stared into the fire.

Jeska leaned in toward her brother and said, "What about the dwarves?"

"Bah!" snorted Balthor.

"You be quiet old man!" spat Jeska at the dwarf. "We all know your opinions about your brethren. But I've lived with them, too, and I know the truth about the dwarves." "What truth is that, girl?" asked Balthor.

"That the dwarves are, at their heart, a peace-loving race, you old blowhard," replied Jeska. "Yes, they're great fighters- perhaps the best in the world-"

"Perhaps?" roared Balthor. "There ain't no 'perhaps' about it. The dwarves are descendants of Fiers himself. There's not man nor beast that is the equal of a dwarf in battle."

"Fine," conceded Jeska. "But they never fight for the sake of the fight itself. Look at you, Balthor.

You're more barbarian than dwarf. You've lost your way in the work of the Lady."

"Don't ye tell me how to do the Lady's work, ye insolent filly. There's more to defense than simply putting a barrier between yourself and the rest of the world!" screamed Balthor as he jumped to his feet.

Balthor was reaching for his axe before Kamahl reacted. "Stop it, you two. You're like an old married couple," said the barbarian as he grabbed his mentor and set him back down at the table. "I've heard this argument too many times to even care who's right, anymore. Can't you two try to get along for one evening?"

After making sure that Balthor would stay in his seat, Kamahl sat back down and turned to his sister.

"Now. What about the dwarves?"

"I never talked much about my time with the clan," started Jeska. "You were Balthor's star pupil and didn't have time to listen your sister's odd ideas. I guess that's why I left the village in the first place." Jeska got up and paced over to the hearth to prod the fire.

"The dwarven clans aren't like the tribes," she said, staring into the jumping flames. "They don't fight over who's the strongest or best to lead. They all work together for a common goal. Whether it's rebuilding the world or merely defending their home against invaders, each member of the tribe is part of something greater than themselves-a community-and each one would die to protect it."

Jeska came back to the table and stood by her brother. "I learned much about the world while living with the clan," she continued. "It's not just their way of life that sets them apart. The dwarves also know more about the past than any race on Otaria. Their history is the history of our world, and they know all about artifacts-"

Kamahl jumped up from the table.

Jeska stumbled back from her brother and dropped into her chair. "What?" she asked. "I wasn't finished. I was just about to tell you how the dwarves could help."

"You already have!" said Kamahl, pacing quickly back and forth around the table. "The dwarven clans! Don't you see? That's what we need. The dwarven clans." Kamahl stopped at the table and looked from Balthor to Jeska for signs of comprehension. Seeing none, he spelled it out for them. "If I can bring the barbarian tribes together, like the dwarven clans, no invading army could defeat us."

"You're missing my point," started Jeska.

"We are more numerous than the dwarves," continued Kamahl. "And most of our warriors have been trained by the greatest dwarven warrior in the world, right, old friend?"

"Aye. Perhaps the best since me old ancestor, Balthor Stone-face," said Balthor, getting into the spirit.

"But the dwarven way of life is more than just battle, Brother. What about your control?" asked Jeska.

"I think they can help you with that."

Kamahl was no longer listening. "Laquatas would need to unite all of Otaria against us to wrest the Mirari from my hands."

"But how do ye unite a bunch of head-strong mavericks who can't be together for more than a day without coming to blows over who's the strongest?" asked Balthor.

"By proving to all of them at once that I am the strongest," replied Kamahl. "We'll have a tournament, just like in the pits, with the leadership of the tribes as the prize. After I beat them all, I can lead them to a better life."

Jeska, fuming and grumbling to herself about "men" got up from the table and left the room. Kamahl and Balthor spent the rest of the evening making plans for the tournament. In the morning, Kamahl crafted a notice to be hand delivered to the leader of each tribe. It said:"For too long, the tribes have been divided, wandering from place to place to stay alive, challenging the strongest in our villages to gain personal glory. We are a great people, but we have never achieved greatness as a people because we waste all our efforts grasping at glory. It is now time to put away our petty jealousies, forget the old feuds, and come together as a people for the glory of all Pardic tribes. It is time to find a strong leader who can lead us to greatness.

I, Kamahl, champion of the Auror tribe, veteran of the Cabal City pits, and holder of the Mirari, do not ask you to select me as your leader, though I would gladly accept the title. No, that is not our way. Instead, I invite you to a tournament of champions to be held in Auror village the first week following the new moon-a tournament that will determine who is the most powerful among us, who can truly lead all barbarians as the champion of the tribes."

"I still don't think most of 'em will go for it lad," said Balthor, reading the notice over the barbarian's shoulder. "Ye'll have to offer more than personal glory and some mythical title to get them to come. Ye'll have to offer up the Mirari as the prize."

"No. It's mine!" snapped Kamahl at Balthor, his face red with rage. After a moment, Kamahl calmed down, and Balthor began to breathe again. "I'm sorry, old friend. We've been working on this notice for hours, and I'm tired."

Kamahl pushed himself away from the table and stretched his arms and back. "You have to understand, Balthor. Chainer entrusted the Mirari to me, and I can't offer it up as a prize."

"I know you're still grieving, lad. Ye still haven't washed his marks from your face. But there's no way ye can lose!" said Balthor.

"It wouldn't be right," replied Kamahl. "Maybe the champions won't come for the tournament based on this notice, but perhaps we can get them to just listen to my proposal, so I can make them understand how important this is. If it comes down to it, I'll offer the Mirari, but only as a last resort.

"Now, get this message out to all the tribes," continued Kamahl. "Tell them we'll discuss the tournament in the village square one week from tonight."

"All right, lad," said the old dwarf with a sigh. "I'll get them there. But ye'll have to convince them to fight."

Veza paced back and forth in the little room, scratching at her drying scales, as nervous as a fish in a net, waiting for the summoner to arrive. She almost preferred the First's chair to this horrible waiting.

Almost. When the door finally opened, she swiped the remaining loose scales from her elbow onto the floor and sat down to face Braids.

"Ah, you're here finally. Good. We have much to discuss," said Braids, as she sat down opposite the new mer ambassador.

"I'm finally here?" asked the confused Veza. "Yes. Yes, of course. I am sorry to keep you waiting, Mistress Braids. I know you are busy with Cabal business."

"No matter, no matter, my dear," replied Braids, glancing around the room as if looking for someone else. "You're really here, aren't you. Curious. The other ambassador was here, but he wasn't, you understand."

"Of course," said Veza, nodding her head more in confusion than acknowledgement. "Here but not here."

Then the rest of what Braids had said finally registered with Veza. "Oh! Other ambassador? Yes.

That is why I have come to talk with you, Mistress Summoner. I represent the interests of the mer empire-the official mer empire, as I am sure the First has informed you."

"Hmm? Oh yes," said Braids, swatting at objects in the air that Veza could not see or merely did not exist. "You know, I worked for Emperor Aboshan before the cataclysm. Horrible man. Kept all of his artifacts underwater."

"Yes. Well. Empress Llawan is much more sensible in her dealings with artifacts and people than Aboshan," said Veza, trying to steer the wayward dementia summoner back to the conversation. "That is why the First has agreed to deal with the empress and not aid the traitor Laquatas. What can you tell me about your meeting with the traitor?"

"Nothing you don't already know I'm sure, my dear," said Braids, winking at Veza.

"Yes. Well, I do know that you met with the former ambassador and that he attempted to enlist your help in the recovery of the Mirari. What I do not know is whether you plan to help Laquatas and in doing so break the agreement the Cabal has with the mer empire."

For the first time during their conversation, Braids looked Veza in the eyes. "I assure you, Ambassador, that I have no intentions of doing anything that will break the trust of any agreement the Firsthas with Empress Llawan ... or her representative."