Out of nowhere, snapping at Bolutu's heels, was the small, furious white dog. Arunis raised his hand, and Refeg paused.
'You. Black man!'
The sorcerer's arm shot out. He crooked a finger, and Bolutu stiffened and stumbled forward.
'You're keeping a secret from me,' said Arunis, with a perfectly hideous smile. 'Oh, there's no need to speak. You're thinking about it, that will do… Ah!'
His eyes grew wide with fury. He waved sharply and Bolutu fell to his knees with a cry.
'A dragon's-egg shot! So you would let me shatter it here, where its deadly yolk would splash into the flames and explode? You knew, and said nothing? Well, since you are so fond of silence-'
What happened next gave Thasha nightmares for the rest of her life. Arunis spread his fingers. Bolutu's head jerked up, his mouth wide open. With his other hand Arunis pointed at the fire-and a coal rose and flew like a wasp of flame into Bolutu's mouth.
Bolutu gave a rending scream, then fell forward, unconscious. Beside her, Thasha saw that Ramachni too had crumpled, shivering in Hercуl's arms.
The Shaggat Ness stepped forward and kicked Bolutu in the head. He toppled backward out of the circle. Dr. Chadfallow leaped forward and dragged him away.
Arunis watched the shivering Ramachni. 'You put out the coal, Ramachni?' He laughed. 'A final gasp of magical mercy? Why am I not surprised? As you will-Bolutu may live, but he will never speak again. Fiffengurt! Close the forge, let the fire die. You, Rer: drag it away.'
A chain was found; Rer looped it around the iron forge and hauled the smoldering thing up the deck. Arunis watched, then gestured again at Refeg.
'Now,' he said.
The augrong raised his mallet and dealt the sphere a crushing blow. The very deck of the Chathrand seemed to quake, but the crystal survived. Three times Refeg swung, and on the third blow the crystal shattered. From the pieces oozed a clear liquid like the white of an egg. And resting on the anvil was the oddest thing Pazel had ever seen.
It was another sphere, orange-sized or smaller, but impossible to look at directly. It seemed to be made of night. It had no surface features-no surface at all, as far as he could tell. It was merely black and cold. And wrong. Something in Pazel's mind and bones and blood rejected the sphere. It was a flaw, a wound in the world. Across the ship men's faces paled.
'Master,' said Arunis to the Shaggat, 'I keep my promises.'
'No,' said the Shaggat. 'I take what is mine.'
Suddenly his voice rose in a thunderous roar. Spittle flew from his mouth as he turned, gesturing wildly. 'Bow down, sorcerer! Bow, kings, generals, all lesser princes of this world! The Shaggat is come, the Shaggat, to cleanse and claim it! Behold, I wield the Nil-stone!'
Dozens of ixchel voices began to scream. 'It's true! By the hallowed names, it's true! Kill him, kill him, Pazel Pathkendle! Kill him now!'
The little people must have been hiding everywhere. But one voice-the voice of Dri in Pazel's shirt-hissed, 'Not yet!'
A wall of Turachs stood between Pazel and the forge, terribly nervous, ready to stab anything that moved. Even if he wanted to, Pazel doubted he could ever reach the two men.
'Bow your heads!' screamed the Shaggat Ness.
Arunis bowed. The Shaggat's sons groveled on their bellies. Everyone else merely gaped. The Shaggat put out his hand and grasped the Nilstone. For a moment all eyes were on him.
'Now!' said Dri. 'Do it! Run!'
Pazel burst into the circle, running full tilt, and dived beneath the legs of the nearest Turach. The man stabbed at him, but too late. Pazel crashed forward, stopping inches from the Shaggat's heels.
The mad king was raising the Nilstone to the sun. A roar of triumph came from his throat. Pazel reached up- and Arunis, catching sight of him, drew his knife. But before either could act the Shaggat's roar became a wail of pain.
The hand that gripped the Nilstone was dead. Hideously dead, the fingers rotted, the bones erupting through the skin. And death was running like flame up the Shaggat's arm.
Howling, the Shaggat whirled. 'Betrayed! Betrayed! Kill the sorcerer, kill every-'
He broke off. A tarboy was looking him in the eye. And Pazel touched him and spoke the Master-Word.
It was like an earthquake beneath the sea. Pazel felt that it was not him but the entire world that had spoken, every part of it at once. The sun turned black, or else too bright for human eyes. Clouds in the distance were torn to shreds. But there was no wind, no waves-and already the Word was gone from his mind.
All about the deck, men stumbled in a daze. What had just happened? What had changed?
Pazel lowered his hand. Before him stood a statue of a king with one dead arm, raising his withered fist in the air. Within that fist lay the Nilstone, unchanged. But the Shaggat was no more.
Arunis looked at the statue and then whirled to face Pazel, his eyes bewildered and lost. It was as if he were seeing the tarboy for the first time-and seeing too his own impossible defeat.
'A child,' he said, his voice deadly quiet. 'A lowborn brat. What madness moves you, boy?'
Then Diadrelu spoke, for Pazel's ears alone. 'Hold your ground. Have no fear of him. If his knife-hand moves I shall slit his throat.'
Not a man stirred on the Great Ship. But one creature did: Ramachni. Moving gingerly, the black mink walked into the circle and looked up at the mage.
'The dragonlords of old had a saying, Arunis,' he said. 'No one fondles fire and escapes unburned. How careless you have been! You raided libraries, stole many books. You knew the Nilstone could make your Shaggat invincible. But had you read further, you would have learned that every mortal man who has touched it since the time of Erithusmй has died on the spot. For what is the Nilstone, Arunis? You have spent your life craving it. Surely you know?'
'It is the greatest weapon on earth,' said Arunis.
'No,' said Thasha from behind them. 'It's death.'
No one had heard her approach. Ramachni looked at her and nodded.
'Death given form,' he said. 'And none who fear death in any corner of their heart may wield it. The Fell Princes drank an enchanted wine from Agaroth, the twilit land that borders death's kingdom, before they touched the Nilstone. Drinking, they knew no fear, and so they took the stone and used it for unspeakable evil. But they had only so much wine. And you have none at all.'
Ramachni shook his head. 'Arunis! All your will has been bent to the unleashing of violence-a war, a warlord, this evil Nilstone. You thought to control it, as you controlled the Shaggat Ness. But we are never long the masters of the violence we unleash. In the end it always masters us.'
'Reverse the spell,' hissed Arunis. 'Make the Shaggat flesh again. Remember that Thasha Isiq is mine to kill.'
'But you will not kill her,' said Ramachni.
'Will I not?' screamed the mage suddenly. 'How is that? Will you stop me, weasel?'
'I already have,' said Ramachni. 'You see, Arunis, I did not spend my power fighting the fleshancs, as you wished me to. I spent it long before. A great deal went into teaching Pazel his Master-Words. Very much worth the trouble, as it turns out.'
Pazel smiled despite himself.
'Yet two problems remained,' Ramachni continued. 'One was the curse on Thasha's necklace, which I could not break. Tell me, did Syrarys know that she was condemning Thasha to death when she used your silver polish?'
Arunis made no answer. Pazel saw Thasha glance suddenly across the deck, to where Lady Oggosk stood beside the captain. Pit-fire, he thought. Was the old woman trying to save Thasha when she sent her cat to steal the necklace? What's her blary game?
'The second problem,' Ramachni went on, 'was that so many people were willing to murder the innocent, should the Shaggat die. Not just you, but Sandor Ott, Drellarek, the Emperor himself. So I dared not kill the Shaggat, or even allow him to die.'
