The spiked cylinder accelerated along the slab. The four men abandoned the rope and ran from the room in spite of the angry cries of the Empress. Tolivar felt the heat scorch the soles of his boots, and a wail like that of a terrified infant was torn from his lips.

Above him, a dazzling white figure sprang into existence. He saw the Archimage Haramis pointing her talisman. His shackles sprang open and his helpless form levitated, flying sideways as the fiery drum, no longer restrained, sped over the place where he had lain.

At the slab's end it swung out on its chains like a glowing pendulum. The Empress Naelore tried to back away from it, too panic-stricken to call upon the magic of her Star. It struck her full in the face. Tolivar, now shrieking for his mother, felt himself lowered to the floor. Beneath the oscillating red-hot cylinder was a thing that writhed and convulsed and would not be still.

The boy's gorge rose as a vile odor of burnt cloth and seared meat reached his nostrils. He fell to his knees, vomiting, then tried to pull himself together as he heard the Archimage call his name. She had freed the other prisoners and was herding them toward the door.

"Tola! Hasten!"

When he faltered, compelled irresistibly to look back at the horror he might have suffered himself, Haramis soared to him and seized his hand. Far overhead, something cracked with a thunderous report and the vaulted ceiling of the torture chamber began to collapse. The Prince flew over the flagstones, through the doorway, and into the corridor, dragged along behind the shining white cloak.

When he touched down again the floor was solid beneath his feet. The temblors seemed to have ended and the masonry of the corridor held firm. Nearly all of the wall-cressets had fallen from their brackets, but they still flickered in the dust-laden air. Queen Anigel s.n.a.t.c.hed Tolivar up in a joyful hug. The others stood about coughing and exclaiming with relief.

When they had all caught their breaths, Haramis said, "Sisters, I have something for you, which I liberated from your captors." In each hand she held a glowing droplet of trillium-amber, strung on simple thongs. Anigel and Kadiya took their amulets, kissed them, and hung them about their necks.

There were no sounds at all from the demolished torture chamber, but faint cries came from the other direction.

Ledavardis, who remembered too well the earthquake that had attended the siege of Derorguila, spoke urgently. "We must get to open ground quickly. If another tremor strikes, it may bring the palace down around our ears."

Kadiya addressed the Archimage. "Can you carry us off by magic?"

"I'm sorry. That would require great strength, and mine was depleted earlier when I rescued the other kidnapped rulers from-"

"They are safe?" Anigel exclaimed. "Oh, Hara! Thank G.o.d!"

"Then we have no choice but to run for it," Kadiya decided.

"That way." Gyorgibo pointed. "Up the stairs. We can go through the barracks of the Imperial Guard into the north transept of the great rotunda, and thence escape into one of the garden courtyards."

Haramis said, "I can still defend us well enough. It is only the magical transport that is temporarily beyond me."

"Ani, can you walk?" Kadiya asked the Queen.

"The Holy Flower has healed my petty wound. I am hale again-and so filled with bliss that I can scarce help bursting into tears!"

"Restrain yourself," muttered the Lady of the Eyes, "at least until we are safely out of here, when you may weep to your heart's content. I may even join you..."

They ran up the narrow stairwell into a barracks anteroom, which showed considerable damage. Several roof beams had fallen and part of a long wall had tumbled down. They picked their way carefully through the rubble. The place was completely deserted save for a lone member of the Imperial Guard, a grizzled fellow in half armor who sat amidst a heap of building stones, covered in dust and clutching his lower leg.

"They've all run off," he croaked, as Haramis and Gyorgibo discovered him. "Yonder wall fell on me. My mates must have thought I was a goner. The torturers who went galloping through a few minutes ago didn't give a d.a.m.n. So here I sit with my leg broke."

The Archimage stooped and touched the limb with her talisman. The guard uttered a surprised oath and began poking and prodding at the place where the wound had been. "Blessed Matuta! You've fixed it, sorceress!" He jumped up, then regarded her with sudden confusion. "But if you're one of them-where's your Star?"

"She needs none," said a quiet male voice.

Haramis rose and turned slowly about. Orogastus stood in the far doorway of the ruined anteroom. He wore the silver-and-black vestments of his guild and its Star medallion, but lacked the forbidding starburst mask. His visage was furrowed with stress, his long white hair hung free, and on his brow was the Three-Headed Monster. A scabbard at the sorcerer's side held the Burning Eye, and his right hand rested upon its triple pommel.

"Leave us!" he commanded the cringing guardsman, who fled.

Haramis said, "So you have found us, Orogastus. I thought you would."

"I knew of your presence as soon as you materialized in the torture chamber. I had been seeking you for hours."

"Then you know that Naelore is dead."

His well-formed lips tightened in anger. "The fool! Believe me-I did not know what she planned. I suppose she hoped to coerce you into giving up your talisman."

"She intended to present it to you," Haramis told him, "and thereby win your love."

He made a gesture of exasperation. "Love? Love her? What arrant nonsense! All I thought of, from the time I bonded the two talismans to myself, was finding you."

"So you could work upon me your own form of coercion? Still... I am relieved that you did not approve the torture."

"The man who would have done such a thing is no more, Haramis. Why can't you believe it?" The sorcerer came toward her, arms outstretched. "Why can't you understand-"

"I understand you quite well, just as I understood that prideful wretch, Denby Varcour, who created you! You are both manipulators of human emotions and deeds, consumed with arrogance and vainglory."

His arms dropped again to his sides and his tender expression turned to one of desolation. "My love for you is honest and I am not afraid to proclaim it. You love me, too-yet all you can do is revile me, giving me no chance to explain myself."

Kadiya interrupted firmly. "This tender reunion-and its mutual recriminations- must wait. You, too, must realize that there could be another great quake at any moment. The city itself might be devastated! You must do something."

The pale eyes of Orogastus darted sidelong. "I cannot control the movements of the earth with my talismans. I tried earlier, when the tremors were milder, and had no success."

"That is because the earthquakes are only a symptom of the world's great imbalance," Haramis said, "as is the colossal mud-flow hurtling down from the mountains."

"What mudflow?" The sorcerer, Kadiya, Ledavardis, and Gyorgibo spoke all at once. Anigel and Tolivar only stood open-mouthed.

Haramis lifted her talisman. "Brandoba lies directly in its path. Behold!"

Half of the ruined room seemed to dissolve away, and it seemed that they stood on some towering precipice above the Forest of Lirda. The dawn sky was invisible in low-hanging storm clouds, which obscured the heights of the wooded foothills like a curtain partially lowered. Surging out from under that curtain, filling the Dob River valley as though it were some green trough, was a churning ma.s.s that looked from a distance like gray porridge.

"Dark Powers forfend!" whispered Orogastus. "I had no idea... Talismans! How far away from Brandoba is the front of the flow?"

Six leagues.

"It will be here in less than half an hour," Haramis stated. "When it comes, it will bury the city." She brandished her talisman again and the vision disappeared.

Gyorgibo groaned. "My poor people. My poor country."

King Ledavardis shot him a glance of comprehension. "Yes... you are the emperor now."

"Emperor of oblivion!" He stood with hands on hips, glowering at both Orogastus and Haramis. "What happens now? Will you waft your Guildsmen away from danger, Star Master? Will the Archimage likewise rescue those she loves, leaving Sobrania and its contemptible barbarians to the onslaught of the mud?"

Orogastus said to Haramis, "Will we?"

The Archimage's gaze swept over her sisters and the others, who waited in silent apprehension. Should they be told the entire truth of the situation? They would have to know soon, but perhaps not yet. Not if there was any inkling of hope, no matter how small.

She said to them, "Orogastus and I must speak privily of this. Please excuse us." Then she motioned for the sorcerer to accompany her, and moved out of their earshot-although not out of sight.

"Shall we part forever, then?" he asked her. "This Sobranian adventure of mine is over. I will have to begin again elsewhere, if such a thing is even possible. You will have your talisman and I will have mine. Separated, they are not invincible-merely extraordinary-especially since I am so inexpert in utilizing mine. I presume that you now have access to the viaducts also?"

She nodded in a.s.sent.

"So we may travel through them as we will, so long as their outlets are not blockaded. You need only collect your friends, after which there will be nothing to keep you in this doomed country. My Guildsmen and I can go to my old home in Tuzamen. If you promise not to attack me there, I will tell you how to free the Archimage Iriane from her prison of blue ice. Then we two can await the world's final descent into frozen silence-you in your sanctum and I in mine-with our dependents none the wiser. Until the end. Is this what you want to do, Haramis? Run away?"

"There is nowhere we can flee, even if we would," she replied.

"What are you talking about?"

"The Archimage of the Sky, the greatest pract.i.tioner of magic who ever lived, told me that the great imbalance culminates and commences now. This Sobranian catastrophe, dire as it is, only marks the beginning of a myriad of such events that will immediately beset all nations of the world. There is no refuge for us anywhere, Orogastus, no escape. From here on, there is only a swift downhill slide until our world is entombed in the Sempiternal Ice."

"So! I was not certain-"

"Denby Varcour believed that only a single despot, wielding the Threefold Sceptre of Power, could stave off this planetary doom. He demanded that I give him my talisman, so that it might be turned over to you. I refused."

"And you still do," the sorcerer stated.

"Yes."

"You would see the world destroyed, rather than saved and subjugated by me?"

"I would see it saved... otherwise." She took a deep breath. "Will you give me the two talismans, so that I may a.s.semble the Sceptre and attempt the healing without the enslaving?"

"Never!" he said. "I know that it would be futile. The healing is itself a horrific process. The simple people of this world and their naive rulers would not know how to survive it. Your gentle persuasion would not move them. They would be insane with terror."

"I think I have found an answer to that."

"Then tell me!" He seized her upper arms. But she drew away, shaking her head, and he did not try to restrain her.

"Once," she reminded him, "you did pledge to let me wield the Sceptre."

"Only if-" He broke off, unable to say the words.

Haramis said, "In his last moments, Denby Varcour changed his mind about his tyrannical scheme. Dying, he invoked the Black Trillium, speaking of the Flower with both irony and a strange resignation. Then he said to me: 'Love is permissible, devotion is not.'"

"That d.a.m.ned enigmatic phrase!" Orogastus cried. "You quoted it in your Tower as you repudiated me... What is the difference, then?"

"In the first," she said, "the lovers remain true to themselves. They unite without loss, without submission. Neither one is diminished but instead, they grow." She paused, lowering her eyes: those eyes identical in color to his own. "I love you. But the Star demands preeminence over its devotees. The Flower does not."

He stood before her somber, the long fingers of one hand touching the medallion hanging from his neck. "I must do what I was born to do. Denby does not matter. He did his part when he let me discover the truth about my own role, allowing me to discard the foolish beliefs of my early years and concentrate upon the one and only reason why I came to exist. I will not surrender my destiny to anyone, to anything. Haramis-my dearest Haramis!-you must understand."

She smiled remotely. "I do. But perhaps true understanding has yet to dawn in you. Denby also said to me, 'Three Petals to wield and the Sky Archimage to guide'... if I wished it."

He was dumbfounded, almost laughing at the audacity of her. "You? If you wish it? What does it mean? Do you believe that the old man was pa.s.sing to you and your sisters responsibility for the Sceptre of the Vanished Ones?"

"He might have been. Binah and Iriane were convinced we would be able to use it. I have never been certain, and perhaps my hesitancy is the reason why Denby suggested a fourth, who would be our guide."

"The Archimage of the Sky is dead," Orogastus declared angrily. "How could he help in the wielding? Denby Varcour was a madman, and even at the end he was raving."

"There is another authority that says that the Three Petals of the Living Trillium must use the Sceptre together-an ancient chant that Denby recited: "One, two, three: three in one.

One the Crown of the Misbegotten, wisdom-gift, thought-magnifier.

Two the Sword of the Eyes, dealing justice and mercy.

Three the Wand of the Wings, key and unifier.

Three, two, one: one in three.

Come, Trillium. Come, Almighty.

"He was mocking me as he did so. But I have heard this chant before, among the Uisgu Folk of our Mazy Mire. They say it dates back to the foundation of their race."

Orogastus shook his head. "It makes no sense. It is mystical twaddle."

"Since my Three-Winged Circle is the prime element of the Sceptre, the key, I would have to command-not as an archimage, but as one of Three with my sisters. If it were mine to choose, I would wish that the Living Trillium be strengthened and guided by a courageous friend-both in the wielding and during the dire aftermath. But we Three could never be guided by a Star Man."

"You have been toying with me, Haramis." This time there was no wrath in his voice but only despair. "Without the Star I am nothing! You and your Flower would diminish me, demanding devotion while refusing to submit yourself."

She took his hand, drawing it to the Three-Winged Circle on the chain at her breast. He tensed, still fearful and refusing, and she said again, "I do love you. And I would never harm nor think of diminishing a new Archimage of the Firmament."

"A new-"

"The office is now mine to bestow. I am the last active member of the College. I am certain that Iriane would concur.

And so, I think, would the sleeping Vanished Ones. We are of them, you and I."

"Haramis... could such a thing be?"

"It depends, I think, on you. On your love."

She pressed his ringers to the Flower. He felt the tiny wings on her talisman open, and within was something that set his nerves afire as he touched it. Momentarily deprived of equilibrium, almost falling, he clung to her. "Of course I love you! Ah, Haramis, I love you more than my own life! More than..." His voice trailed off to a soft groan.

He recovered and the nearly frantic embrace eased. It became reverent, lending strength to both of them.

When at length they drew apart, she whispered, "The coronet!"

Frowning in perplexity, he took it from his head and studied it. The central Monster head, which had been surmounted by a tiny replica of the Star, now had a new escutcheon of three crescent Moons. It was the same with the Three Lobed Burning Eye.

Its chain broken, the Star lay on the rubble-strewn floor at their feet.

A fresh tremor shook the palace.