Concentrating fiercely on the present, she opened her Third Eye, went to the very edge of Ayame, the deep trance-state used in Thrip-ping, and cast her sorcerous gaze here and there. The Eye of Ajbal, which had been focused on another spot south of them, began to turn in their direction. The Eyes were attuned to sorcerous activity. But this one must be set at hair-trigger level, for she had not even entered Otherwhere, where it would have been certain to notice her and attack.

At once, she shut down her search, and the Eye, confused, began to swivel back to its original subject. But Giyan's casting, however brief, had been useful, for she had detected a figure fleeing almost directly in their direction. Gently, she used a spell to correct the figure's course, bringing her-for she had seen that much-toward them.

"I have found what the Eye is after, Minnum."

He was panting and moaning through half-open lips. His small body and short legs were ill equipped for so much strenuous exercise."Or, rather, who."

It happened they were in the midst of a stand of river lingot, burnished, nut-colored bark exfoliating in ornate curlicues. Minnum took a moment to halt and, bent over with hands on thighs, gulped in breaths between panting out responses.

"Who are the sauromicians after?"

"A Sarakkon," Giyan said. "A female Sarakkon, at that. Curious, wouldn't you say?"

"Most curious." He shook his head. "Frankly, I am at a loss."

"As am I," she said. "That is why I have brought her to us."

Minnum's head snapped up. "You what?"

"Look, the Eye is a threat to all of us-as are the sauromicians. If they are after this female, then she is likely to be able to help us. At the very least, she will be able to shed some light on their recent activities, possibly the extent of their strength as well."

Minnum grunted. "But evidence points to the Sarakkon being in league with the archons."

"Then why is the Eye searching for her?"

"Perhaps it is a ruse to lure us on."

"Well, there is only one way to find out."

At that moment, a bolt of sorcerous energy lanced down from the Eye into the northernmost tip of the forest. A moment later, a figure burst free and began to sprint across the placidly rolling lake plateau toward the first stand of sysal trees.

"There she is!" Giyan cried. "Now what do you think?"

Minnum squinted up at the Eye. "She'll never make it."

Giyan grabbed him by the front of his robe. "Come on!"

Together, they ran toward the figure. She was still far enough away to lack details. One could even fool oneself into believing that she was an image in a V'ornn holoentertainment, Minnum thought, so that when the Eye blasted her into smithereens neither of them would feel the loss overly much.

"Listen now," Giyan said as they ran. "I will concentrate on deflecting the Eye, but you must try and neutralize the archon."

"What are you talking about?" he cried, deeply alarmed. "I am no archon. I lack the training."

"Remember you defeated an archon in Za Hara-at."

"The Dar Sala-at did most of the work," he pointed out.

"Just do your best," she said gently.

"Here comes the Sarakkon," he said, pointing.

To his astonishment, she had made it as far as the first stand of sysal. But another bolt was loosed by the Eye and with a sickening whoosh1. that took his breath away the stand of trees burst into flame. A great oily cloud mushroomed up, billowing into a sky crowded with ominous clouds.

From out of the black cloud, they saw her sprinting toward them.

"Good for you, Sarakkon," Giyan said under her breath.

"Now we will see if it is a trap," Minnum muttered.

"The archon, Minnum," Giyan reminded him. "Concentrate on the archon."

Minnum planted his feet and cast a cold-fire bolt into the forest. If he could not find the archon, then he would let the archon find him. Treetops shuddered, leaves shredded and burst in a small emerald plume. In his mind, Minnum felt the great serpent Avatar of the ar-chons, it was uncoiling, writhing its way toward him. He saw its face and he recognized Caligo. It was Caligo who had buried him in the sand of a faraway seash.o.r.e when he was young, for the crime of being short. It was Caligo who had laughed, bringing his cohorts to watch as the rising tide washed over Minnum, as his nostrils filled with seawater, as he gasped and choked. The world is full of peril for freaks, he had shouted. Then he had crouched down, tousled Minnum's wet hair. Poor Minnum. It will get better. Then he had stuffed a live crab into Minnum's mouth. But not any time soon]

Minnum loosed another cold-fire bolt, aimed at the head of the serpent. The Avatar reared back and broke apart like smoke. Behind it, Minnum could see in his mind's eye Caligo's familiar face. But then his blood ran cold, for somehow Caligo was instantly aware of him; the archon fixed him in his sorcerousgaze, and he felt a pain roar through him. He cried out, for it was as if Caligo had pierced him with a firebrand. Like a fish on a hook, he squirmed this way and that, but he could not break free of the pain.

He glanced at Giyan, but her attention was fully concentrated on the Eye of Ajbal. It was as if she had ceased to notice him. He was entirely on his own. Dimly, he was aware of the Sarakkon female approaching them at a run. He thought she saw them, for there was an astonished look on her face. Then the pain whirled him into blackness. He descended into a spiral of agony, lost in the sorcerous whirlpool.

He caught one last glimpse of Caligo. A glistening strand of intestine was wrapped around his left wrist, and in despair, Minnum knew that this was where his power was coming from. The sauromicians had reverted from Kyofu sorcery to pure necromancy. He had suspected this during his nightmarish battle with Talaasa in Za Hara-at, but he dared not believe it. Now he had the proof, for all the good it would do him.

The cold-fire bolts he threw were immediately absorbed by the necromantic forces swirling around him. He continued being pulled down, drowning as he almost had when Caligo had buried him in the beach. He nearly cried in frustration, and in response he heard Caligo's mocking laughter.

h.e.l.lo, freak, and good-bye.

Minnum was gasping, and terror filled his heart, for he saw the serpent returning, and he felt sure that at the last moment Caligo would use it to rip his heart out and eat it. To die was bad enough, he thought, but to be eaten alive, to be used as energy against those he loved most dearly was a horror beyond imagining.

The serpent was snaking its way toward him, all glossy scales and glittering eyes and bared fangs. He was falling deeper and deeper, never to rise again. He put his hands over his heart as if to shield it for one millisecond longer from the inevitable end.

It's too late." Leyytey's eyes, in her agitation, shone like one of her shock-sword blades. "Whatever we do now is meaningless, tin Mennus has my father."

Sornnn nodded. "His office has put out a story that he is under protection from a Resistance a.s.sa.s.sination plot."

"Of course that's a lie," she said vehemently.

They had met just after noon at a rooftop cafe of Sornnn's choosing that overlooked the bustling Promenade. Brightly colored sails rose from ships afloat on the glittering Sea of Blood. The cafe was so popular they were obliged to wait for a table. Sornnn had gotten them drinks at the bar, and they had taken them to the edge, far from the crowd, where they sat on the thick parapet in the brilliant sunshine.

"They won't even allow me to talk with him. It would compromise their security, they said. It might allow me to find a way to get him out, I say."

"We don't want to do that," Sornnn said quietly. "It would make him a fugitive."

"Better alive than dead."

Not for the first time they heard what sounded like the boom of thunder, but the cerulean sky was studded only with benign white clouds. In any event, they were too engrossed in the exigencies of the situation to wonder about what seemed a meteorologic anomaly.

"Listen to me, Leyytey. Now is the time for cool heads and careful planning."

"We tried careful planning, and look where it got us!"

"Drink your marsh queen," he said.

He had ordered her Marethyn's favorite drink. On reflection perhaps that had not been the best idea.

He felt a void inside him where she had curled, contented as a child. She was gone now. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Inside, he wept for her, and for himself. He could feel himself once again sliding into despair. At least that was familiar. When he was despairing he never had to remind himself that Marethyn was gone, and along with her the best part of himself.

"SaTrryn ..."

His attention snapped back at the sound of her voice, so different from Marethyn's, and yet just aspleasing to him. He drank in Leyytey's face. There was a fire in her that was akin to the fire that had illuminated Marethyn from the inside. If only she had stayed an artist. If only she had never left Axis Tyr and her marvelous atelier. But, of course, she had.

"SaTrryn, where have you gone?" She smiled a rueful smile. "Ah, I know. You were thinking about your lost love." "No, I-" "It's all right."

She put her goblet to her lips and sipped her marsh queen, then set it aside.

"You don't like it."

She made a face. "Too sweet for me."

It was the tiniest moment, gone unremarked by anyone around them, but it meant the world to him, for he could separate them now in his mind. Marethyn and Leyytey. He saw how he had begun to want Leyy-tey to be just like Marethyn. He saw how dangerous a path that was, how it would inevitably lead to disillusionment and, quite possibly, anger on his part. When he was with Leyytey he could not think of Marethyn. Or, if he did, he could not compare them, for he would always find Leyytey wanting. The more he compared them the more she would fall short of his expectations, which were, after all, nothing but fantasy.

"SaTrryn." She c.o.c.ked her head. "You are looking at me so strangely. What are you thinking?"

"I was thinking how glad I am to have met you." She looked down, staring at her hands. She felt suddenly ill at ease, his kind words scoring into that part of her that stubbornly held on to her wicked secret. She knew she should tell him about Dacce and Raan Tallus, but she could not. Every time she began the imaginary dialogue with him it always came to the same dreadful end. And so each moment she was with him was marked with pain as well as pleasure, for she could see the shape and form of her betrayal, and it made her ill. "Please don't say that," she said in a thin, tight voice. "Why not? It's the truth."

It was remarkable, Sornnn thought, sitting beside her, what one could intuit from an expression. In her sudden shyness, he saw the little girl she had once been, the yearning to be accepted by her father, her fierce and uncompromising determination to succeed. But most of all he saw her loneliness. It could not be easy being Ardus Pnin's daughter. At that moment, the manager approached to tell them that their table was ready. As Sornnn followed her through the crowd, he thought about her half-open lips, about the words that had gathered in her throat. What was it she had been about to say to him?

Once they had settled themselves at the table the mood changed. By what strange alchemy did this happen, he asked himself. The sole topic of conversation was how to save Fleet-Admiral Pnin.

"Tell me, what are we going to do now?" she said in a clipped tone.

"I'm afraid there are no easy answers."

This was not what she wanted to hear, and her famously volatile temper flared up again. "Easy. Hard.

I don't care. Let's just get on with it."

"Leyytey-"

"No, no. We are running out of time."

He decided it was best to allow her to vent her understandable frustration. He took a neutral stance, neither placating her nor giving her encouragement where, frankly, he felt none was warranted.

Unfortunately, this had the effect of increasing her ire. She accused him first of giving up the moment the situation turned really difficult, then of taking advantage of her. When he compounded his mistake by pointing out that these were mutually exclusive suppositions, she became angrier still, if that were possible, and threatened to take matters into her own hands, though she refused to elucidate, and he could not imagine what she could do alone.

"I know what you want," she said hotly, undoing all that he had accomplished with her moments before, "and it has nothing to do with my father."

By the time dessert came, the day was turning grey, and he had begun to feel quite defeated.

Minnum, hands over his heart, felt a tickling on his legs, and glancing down, he saw a vine rising upfrom the depths. He did not think, he did not question, he grabbed on to it. And it began to lift him up, to take him away from the dreadful undertow of the whirlpool, bringing him to a calmer place, black as death, but entirely without eddies, so that he could gather himself, try to control his terror.

The pain had subsided, he was very aware of that. He saw that the vine was twined all around him, feelers entering his body at various points, and it occurred to him that they were somehow siphoning off the pain, enough of it at least so that he could clear his mind enough to form a plan of counterattack.

Forget about the cold-fire bolts, he told himself. He thought about the power bourns that ran beneath the bedrock of Kundala. The Dar Sala-at had used one to destroy Talaasa. The problem was Minnum lacked the Dar Sala-at's ability to divine the bourns.

He could feel the pain flaring and receding, and he knew that the vine-whatever its miraculous source-could not protect him for long. He needed to take action and he needed to do it immediately.

He drew Caligo back into his consciousness. In his mind's eye, he saw the face he remembered and despised-the predatory jaw, the wide, almost lipless mouth, the black eyes that had they not been alive with cruelty would certainly have seemed already dead. He saw the bony hands describing complex patterns in the air, and there on his left hand was the sixth ringer, black as pitch.

The finger! Yes, that was it!

For an instant, his courage failed him, and he quailed inside, but just then the vine gripped him tighter, lifted him higher, as high as it could take him, he imagined. The rest was up to him. He could not fail those who were counting on him. He could not fail himself.

Redoubling his resolve, he gathered his courage and waited for the serpent to come to him. Closer and closer it slithered. Its tongue flickered out, its jaws gaped open. He could feel Caligo's elation behind the facade of the Avatar. He kept a tight lid on the innate terror he felt at the proximity of the serpent, and when at last it was within spitting distance, he cast Fly's-Eye to send it and Caligo into a chaos of conflicting thoughts.

He flew past the great snake, and now he conjured two spells at once, Sphere of Binding and, to hide it from Caligo, Night Blindness. It was a great effort to cast two spells at once, to balance them one against the other, but he did not falter. He felt the serpent Avatar beginning to shake off the effects of Fly's-Eye, and he increased his speed. He felt Caligo beginning to probe, encountering Night Blindness, trying to figure out what had happened.

Then, as if bursting upward through the last of the darkness, he reached the speckled light of the forest where the archons stood hidden and projected the fireball of Sphere of Binding, so that it encircled Caligo's left hand, the one with the black finger. Using the spell, he began to bend the finger back.

Caligo, concentrating hard, detonated Night Blindness, and the spell dissipated like mist. Now the two sauromicians were locked in mortal combat. Minnum felt the coldness of the necromantic spells Caligo was using to try to free his finger. It was the one vulnerable spot on a sau-romician. Minnum knew that if he could break it off, he would destroy the archon.

But Caligo was now fighting him with every ounce of his being. Minnum could feel his hold on Sphere of Binding slipping and, with it, the spell beginning to come apart. Already, Caligo had regained some control over the black finger, bringing it back from its unnatural position.

Minnum tried Circle of Imprisonment, but Caligo was prepared, for he countered the spell with one of his own. Meanwhile, Minnum's hold on Sphere of Binding was being further eroded to the point where he did not think he could keep it together for much longer. Clearly, conventional tactics were not going to work. He had to think of something else. But what?

All at once it came to him. He loosed two cold-fire bolts in quick succession. Caligo brushed them aside, laughing, but that was all right. Minnum had not expected them to have any effect. Like blowing a kiss, he had sent a composite Sticky Spell inside the second of the cold-fire bolts. When Caligo blew it apart, the composite Sticky Spell adhered to him without his knowing it. For a moment, it did nothing, lying dormant. Then, like a V'ornn delayed ion mortar, it cast its first layer. Working off Caligo's own necromantic energy it began to drain him of power. The harder he fought against it, the more it drained him. But that layer would only last a matter of moments.

Minnum cast Rings of Concordance, tightening them around the ar-chon's left wrist, his fingers. TheSticky Spell was waning. Minnum, bending all his will to this one task, tightened three Rings around the black sixth finger and bent it all the way back.

It snapped like a dry twig. He felt Caligo's scream, quick and spine-tingling, before it was abruptly cut off. A film of white ash had begun to form on Caligo's body. It spread quickly, inexorably, eating into his flesh, turning it all to a fine white powder.

Minnum staggered back and opened his eyes. He was still within the small stand of trees, and he was face-to-face with the Sarakkon female.

From behind the last in the line of Gul Aluf's biochambers, Riane rose on cramped legs. Though he had been in Gul Aluf's embrace, Sahor had been looking right at her. She knew that it should have frightened her that he could sense her even through Flowering Wand, but it didn't. What was he doing here in the company of this strange creature? Why had he revealed himself to her? She knew that the moment she spoke of this to Thigpen, the Rappa would jump to the paranoid conclusion that Sahor had betrayed them. She herself had considered the possibility but had almost immediately dismissed it. After all, he had seen her and hadn't said a word to Gul Aluf. She pondered this as she and Kirlll Qandda crept out of the lab-orb and met up with Eleana and Thigpen. She wished she could talk to Sahor about what he was up to, but in the present circ.u.mstance that seemed unwise The Deirus led them to the same inconspicuous side entrance by which they had entered. While Kirlll Qandda told the others what he and Riane had observed, she went into a storeroom piled high with crates and old crystal data. She required some peace and quiet to do what she knew needed to be done.

She had to find the banestone before Kurgan used it or it fell into the hands of the sauromicians. To do that she needed to cast a particular Eye Window spell. The Spell of Forever was very powerful, she had only used it once before. If she was correct, it would lead her to the banestone. But there was a danger, for the Spell of Forever could only be conjured up by a seer, and every time she used it the spell opened her oracular powers wider, sent her tumbling faster down the path to eventual madness. Still, it could not be helped. She did not have enough time to locate Kurgan through Eleana's network of Resistance members and pry its location out of him.

She was about to begin, to stir the shadows, the echoes, when Eleana slipped into the storeroom.

Riane shook her head, but Eleana ignored her, dropping to her knees beside Riane.

"Eleana, please stay outside. What I am about to do is too dangerous-"

"Love." She put her hand against Riane's cheek. "It is because of the danger that I have come." She took the ion pistol that she had held against her leg and stood it b.u.t.t first on her thigh. "I will protect you."

Riane felt her heart melt, but she knew she had to be stern. "There are forces here beyond your ken, forces that care nothing about ion charges."

"If they are so strong, why didn't they beat back the V'ornn?" She smiled. "No. I will stay, love. I will protect you while you send your mind wandering."

Riane opened her mouth to protest, but something in Eleana's expression told her it would do no good. Besides, being truthful with herself, she wanted Eleana there.

Riane put her hand on Eleana's. It was a chaste gesture, but in its very innocence lay a voluptuousness beyond description, for it spoke most eloquently of safety and security. Eleana's scent, bolder than Eleana herself, swirled around Riane. It was like an elixir. They leaned forward at the same moment, and their lips grazed. Nothing more was needed. They were together in the darkness, together in the moment, together forever. There was no doubt, no question, no hesitation. There was only the beating of their hearts like gimnopedes fluttering among the sysal trees.