Llawan moved quickly in the wake of Aboshan's death. She and her leviathan full of Mer aristocrats descended on the ruins of the imperial palace before the sand had settled, and she quickly installed herself at the hub of a rapidly spinning wheel of circumstance. While her servants led chants of "the emperor is dead! Long live the Empress!" in the public byways, her peers stirred up support among the rich and influential. Llawan herself addressed the population as a whole, rallying her subjects via magical broadcast and bulletins posted throughout the empire. Her message was direct: Aboshan was dead, and his policies should be interred with his bones. The widowed empress announced a lavish funeral for her husband to be held at an undetermined time in the future. On that same day she staged a rally wherein all of Aboshan's informers were chained at the neck and driven out of the capitol, and all his secret surveillance files were publicly destroyed.
While the common citizen embraced her return, Llawan was less popular among the merchants and generals. The trading sector of Mer society had never done better than they did under Aboshan. As long as the imperial transaction tax was paid in advance, Aboshan's government was extremely friendly to all forms of commerce. He controlled the trade routes to and from Mer population centers, and those who paid for the privilege were allowed to move and sell their goods unmolested. All others were usually attacked by bandits-who wore imperial uniforms-beaten, and robbed down to the clothes they wore. Aboshan had made it extremely profitable to do business with him and extremely dangerous to do otherwise. For the pragmatic capitalists of Mer, it was a comfortable situation, one that they were not eager to change.
So while Llawan held meetings and exerted influence and tested loyalties, Veza was sent to inspect the newly formed Otaria Chasm. By all estimates, an area of over a thousand square miles of land was now a half a mile below the surface, and the northern tip of Otaria had become an island. No one had done a complete survey of the new sea, but there were bound to be some human settlements, people, and animals who had been caught in the catastrophe. The law of the sea said that anything below the waves is Mer territory, however, and Llawan was eager to have this new addition to her empire explored, catalogued, and quantified. In the name of the empress, Veza was commanding the survey mission.
A cephalid officer and Olsham the mystic swam into the chamber. "M'lady Veza," Olsham said. "We are approaching the chasm. It is time."
Veza stared straight ahead. "I will return to the bridge once we've made visual contact." The officer swam out, and Veza floated alongside Olsham in silence while the mystic softly clicked and keened to himself.
The great wound Aboshan had made in the above-air continent slowly materialized out of the murky waters ahead. Veza shook her head as Olsham's prayers increased in pitch and volume. The chasm was huge, so wide that Veza couldn't even see the opposite wall from where she stood. She remembered the shock wave that had passed through Llawan's transport. Whatever caused the cave-in must have forced millions upon millions of gallons of water out of the area. As soon as the initial force was spent and the ground had finished caving, those same millions of gallons had rushed in to fill the new valley.
Olsham stopped chanting and opened his eyes. "Please excuse me, ma'am. I would like you to return to the bridge now." Veza started to object, but Olsham said, "Please. Go. I will perform the ritual alone."
Veza nodded, then darted down the connecting chamber into the belly of the ship. The captain was waiting for her on the bridge. "We're ready to enter the chasm, ma'am. Is the spellcaster ready?"
"He's performing the ritual now. How long till we get there?" "If we maintain our present course and speed, about half an hour."
"That should be plenty of time. When Olsham is done, this ship will be Llawan's eye, recording everything that passes around it. The crystal gemstone Olsham had installed will store it. All we have to do is cover the distance, and the empress will have a complete and detailed survey of the area."
The cephalid captain scowled. "I hope it's going to be that easy, ma'am. Any idea what we're going to find in there?"
Veza shook her head. "But," she added, "nobody does. That's why we're here."
*****
Olsham completed his telemetry ritual and teleported himself back to Llawan City shortly before the leviathan entered the chasm. The ship and the crew were in top form, and they made excellent progress through the first two-thirds of the sunken zone.
Veza knew the ship was collecting and transmitting volumes and volumes of information back to the empress, but as far as she could see, the canyon contained little more than a strong current and its own stark, rugged beauty. The forward chamber commanded impressive views of sunken rock formations and a remarkably wide assortment of colorful seaweed and small fish. She would have to study the data she had gathered, but unless there was some hidden treasure, the chasm was little more than a scenic cruise.
"What in nine hells is that?"
Veza had been spending most of her time on the bridge with the captain, helping him plot the best course for the empress's purposes. The scrying screens weren't as picturesque as the forward cabin, but the screens could provide a view in any direction. Currently, they were looking forward and starboard, where a large, shadowy form was coming straight at them.
"It's a large animal, sir," one of the crew called out. "Undetermined species."
"Captain," Veza said. "Is it a natural phenomenon? Could a large predator already have staked out a territory this far in?"
The captain shrugged. "It's possible. Change course."
"It's still closing, sir. Captain, I think it's a razor ray."
The captain nodded grimly. "I think you're right."
On screen, the huge, black manta grew larger and larger. It was almost as large as the leviathan, with bony spines alongside its head that jutted forward like horns. Its tail ended in a curved barb like a scorpion's and had two red poison sacs visible at the base. Veza knew these vicious animals had first been bred hundreds of years ago, when the dominant sea powers all employed living warships.
The rays had become more specialized and horrible since then. Most leviathans had an innate primal fear of the rays, so that even they avoided being gored or envenomed, and even the larger ships often panicked and quit the field.
"Can you give me a better view of its markings?" Veza said.
"What for? Get out of my way, woman."
Veza caught the captain by the shoulder. "Captain," she said. "This is still my mission."
Grudgingly, the captain ordered a closer view of the razor ray. The monster's wings had been dyed royal blue, and its two longest horns had been capped with silver. Across its belly, it bore the Mer characters for "land" and "sea" all emblazoned over by a huge stylized letter 'L.'
"Laquatus," Veza said. Then, in a louder voice, "Empress, if you can hear me-Laquatus got here first."
*****
The leviathan's handlers screamed a split second before the ship rolled violently.
"We're hit, sir," called a crewmember. "A second razor ray just stung the carapace around the head. The leviathan was not hurt."
"She's panicking!" one of the handlers cried. "Do something!"
The ship launched into escape speed before the captain even gave the order. The cephalid handlers on the creature's brain were straining to keep her from fleeing at top speed until she was too tired to swim any farther.
"Evasive action!" the captain yelled. "Go, helmsman, go!" The leviathan surged away from the second ray, which followed close behind. Farther on, the first ray remained out of the chase and out of harm's way.
"Can we outrun them?" Veza asked.
"For a short time, but we'll get tired first."
"Can we fight?"
The captain shook his head. "We can ram them, but their stingers won't miss again. They only need about five seconds of con-tact to kill a ship this size."
Veza looked hard at the screen, then back at the captain. "How deep are we?"
"
Doesn't matter. They can go as deep as we can."
"I don't want to go deeper. I want to go up."
The captain clicked something derogatory. "This is a deep sea vessel, ma'am."
"I know captain. But it's also a fish. Is this fish agile as well as fast?"
"She can turn back on herself without missing a stroke."
"Glad to hear it. Tell me, then, does this fish… breach?"
Realization sparked in the captain's eye, and he smiled at Veza. "Helm," he called. "Point the nose straight up. Maximum possible speed." He swam over to the ship's handlers to make sure they understood precisely what was expected of them.
The leviathan lurched and shot up though the chasm waters toward the surface. To Veza, it felt like gravity had shifted ninety degrees.
"Give me an aft view." The screen showed the ray close behind, accelerating to keep up with the leviathan's sudden burst of speed.
"We're almost at the surface, sir."
"Forward view." The screen now showed the surface, rushing toward them like a great liquid field.
"Maintain course and speed. On my mark, I want this vessel tucked and pointed straight down, back at the water."
"Aye, sir." The leviathan broke the surface and shot high into the air. The screen showed a huge wash of spray and painfully bright sunshine. Clouds in the sky rolled around the screen.
"Everyone hang on. Mark!"
Guided by her handlers, the ship wrenched itself into a U, then snapped back into its streamlined shape with its nose pointed downward. Veza, two crewmembers, and a handler were tossed around the bridge like beans in a can. Gravity quickly overcame the ship's motion, and the leviathan dropped back toward the sea.
Below, the razor ray had stopped just below the surface, confused about its prey's disappearance. The viewscreen showed a massive shadow fall over the submerged ray just before the leviathan's bony carapace came crashing down on it-with all twenty tons of leviathan behind it.
The scrying screen went black until the captain barked, "Aft view."
Behind them, the remains of the razor ray were no longer recognizable as anything that had ever been alive. A small cheer went up.
"Back to your stations!" the captain said. Before the crew could regain control of the leviathan, however, a blue-green beam lanced out of the second ray, the one with the silver horns. The beam splayed across the length of Llawan's transport, though there was no immediate reaction.
"Resume evasive action. Helm, get us deeper into the chasm."
"Helm is not responding, sir."
The captain swore. "Handlers?"
One of the robed cephalids swam up. "The ship is entangled, sir. She is blocked on all sides and cannot move."
"Damn." He looked angrily at Veza.
"What's wrong?"
"He's tangled us in sargassum. Whatever that spell beam was, it covered us in enough seaweed to choke this vessel dead in the water."
Veza struggled to think of something, anything, that would help them. She was interrupted by Laquatus's amplified voice.
"Greetings, Mer survey vessel. This is Laquatus. Prepare to be boarded."
The captain lowered his head, then lashed out at the console before him. Veza steeled herself for a reunion with the ambassador. On the screen, a half- dozen more vessels and behemoths swam into view, each wearing the ambassador's standard.
"And if the empress is by chance on board," Laquatus said, "let me add a hearty 'welcome' from the next Emperor of Mer."
CHAPTER 16
Kamahl and Chainer stood before the First, in the public reception hall of the manor. The First was dressed formally, with full robes and headdress, and he sat on a tall throne surrounded by his hand and skull attendants. Skellum stood beaming between the First and the fighters with the Master of the Games behind him.
"Twelve wins in a row," the First said. "Quite impressive."
"Thank you, Pater." Chainer said. He nudged Kamahl.
"Right. Thanks." The barbarian was clearly uncomfortable in such a fine room. He looked longingly at the door.
"But now, I'm afraid, the winning streak must end." "Of course, Pater." "What?"
Skellum and Chainer glanced at Kamahl. The barbarian was genuinely confused, on the point of becoming angry.
"It's all for the best," the Master of the Games said. "We're going to put you two up against another crusat squad from the Order. They'll win, become bolder, and start sending more teams into Cabal City. People are nervous with all the changes in leadership around here. They like seeing simple fights they can understand and root for. A barbarian and a Cabalist going up against toy soldiers, over and over again. You win some, they win some. It's familiar to crowds. Comfortable."
"I agree," Kamahl said, "but I don't lose on purpose."
"We're the house team," Chainer spoke quickly to fill in the uncomfortable silence. "And the house never loses. Not in the long run."
Kamahl made a rude noise. "That's dreck. If you don't win, you lose. Period."
"Would it help," the First said calmly, "to think of this as a strategic withdrawal? You'd be letting the Order have a small victory, so that you can secure a larger one later?"
Kamahl shook his head. "I don't fight to lose. I don't think I know how."
The First steepled his fingers. "Not even if the larger victory we're waiting for includes the Mirari?"
Chainer and Kamahl both perked up at the mention of the arti-fact's name. The Mirari hadn't been offered as a prize since Fulla brought it back from Mer.
"You're planning another Mirari games, Pater?"
"Yes, my child. And soon."
"But we need the right kind of build-up," the Master of the Games broke in. "The Order has to feel there's a chance of them winning. If they take down our best two-man team, they'll be sure to come back."
Kamahl shook his head again. "No deal." Chainer shot Skellum an agonized look, but Skellum could only look back with sympathy.
"Forgive us, honored guest," said the Master of the Games, "but the team of Kamahl and Chainer is going to lose their next bout. It has been arranged."
"Then the team of Kamahl and Chainer will not compete." Kamahl glanced at Chainer, then spoke to the First. "You have been an excellent host, Cabal First, but I am from a different tradition. I'm here to fight. I'm here to win the Mirari with strength, speed, and skill. When you decide to offer it up, I will be ready to work for it. But until then, count me out of these games you play to increase the audience and drive up the odds."
The Master of the Games started to speak, but the First interrupted. "I am truly sorry you feel that way."
"As am I. I mean no offense, but I was raised and trained never to do less than my best."
"You are a barbarian of principles," the First said. "But if you are not going to support our agenda for the next games, I'm going to have to ask you to excuse yourself. We have Cabal business to discuss."
Kamahl nodded, glanced at Chainer, and then stomped out, his heavy boots echoing down the hall with each step.
When the footsteps had gone, Chainer said, "Forgive him, Pater." "There is nothing to forgive. He is set in his ways, and we must find someone else to fight in his place. I only regret that we won't be able to rely on him as an ally." "He is still our ally, Pater. He just-"
"Chainer," Skellum interrupted. "We're not here to discuss your unwilling partner."
Chainer's face fell. "No, Master."
"Master of the Games," the First said. "Can Chainer alone deliver the result we're seeking?" "Yes, Pater."
"Master Skellum. Is your pupil ready to provide that result? And will he survive it?"
"Yes, Pater." Chainer and Skellum spoke together. "Nothing fancy," the Master of the Games told Chainer. "Just get in there and roll over. It doesn't need to be a good fight, it just needs to be an Order victory."
"Understood," Chainer said.
"Master of the Games, you are dismissed."
"Thank you, Pater." She slipped quickl
y out of the room.
Chainer stood nervously before the First. Skellum fiddled with his hat beneath his arm. The First watched them both through steepled fingers.
"You have something to add, Master Skellum?"
Skellum cleared his throat. "I do, Pater. Chainer has made excellent progress as a caster. There is only one more thing I can teach him, one more lesson before he graduates from my academy."
Chainer fought off a gulp of surprise. This was news to him.
"This would be the dementist's shikar you've mentioned?"
Skellum began to walk back and forth, between Chainer and the First. "Yes, Pater. It is a rite of passage. A spiritual journey combined with a physical trial." He pulled himself up to his full height and spoke with as much dignity as he could muster. "It is something that separates dementists from mere casters."
"I am familiar with the ritual. Yours was a great success, if I'm not mistaken."
Skellum beamed. "Thank you, Pater."
"And you believe your student is ready for this trial."
"I do, Pater. As his mentor, I would want to accompany him. For the last time, of course. When we return from shikar, there will be nothing left for me to teach him."
"How long does it take?"
"Two days to walk to the site. Three days of trial. Two days to return."
The First considered. "Very well. As soon as Chainer discharges his obligation with the Order, you and he will take a leave of absence from the pits. You will experience shikar."
"Thank you, Pater."
"Thank you, Master," Chainer whispered. Skellum glared at him, but winked also.
"There is one final thing," the First said, "concerning the Mirari. Doubtless by now you are both aware that my predictions came true. The Mirari led to major upheavals in both the Order and Mer, and then it came back to us. I made one error, however. I expected the past few months to thin the field, as it were, but just the opposite is true. More and more people are following its trail, which will lead them here. This is both good and bad for the Cabal. Even as we speak, the crusat death squads are reforming in an effort to drive us out of our strongholds. Cabal City, Aphetto… even our minor pits in no-name villages are being targeted. They make the same old claims. We corrupt the innocent, mock the law, and generally impede the Order's righteous progress.
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