prevent its return to the world.”
“So this is all just a stupid game to them?”
“Stupid? It is the Game that keeps the world alive.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“You don’t have to. I am only talking to you because I was ordered to.”
“All right!” I said, getting more and more furious. “Surely you won’t try to deny that the Nameless One appeared thanks to your Master?”
“I will not,” the Messenger replied calmly.
“And you won’t deny that the Nameless One is evil?”
Once again the hall echoed to the Messenger’s laughter.
“Evil? I thought we had finished with that subject, Dancer! For you, perhaps, he is evil.… After all, he wishes to overthrow your king and destroy the kingdom.… History is written by the victors, thief! That’s the way it has always been. Somehow everyone seems to have forgotten one small detail—that Stalkon’s dynasty wiped out the entire family of the person they now call the Nameless One! All of them! Is that not evil? And is his desire to take revenge not good?”
“It is not good. It is vengeance.”
“Perhaps so,” he admitted. “Perhaps so. But this world needs the Nameless One. He holds you in check, stops you getting out of hand, getting above yourselves.”
“What do you mean?”
“When the Fallen Ones and the ogres lived in Siala, and the Game had not yet begun, the Master tried not to interfere in the affairs of the world, but later the younger races appeared, including you men. Everything changed. You are worse than little children. You have to be directed, given a goal to achieve. Otherwise, left to your own devices, you would make such a mess of things that the Game would come to an end without having unfolded. Without a goal to pursue, you wreck everything your eye falls on. The day will come when you destroy this world. And the Master would not like that to happen, so he gives you many goals. The Nameless One, for instance.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You are a Dancer only in the blood. In order to understand, you have to become one in the spirit, you have to pass through the Great Houses, but for you, that is all still to come. What would happen if the Nameless One did not threaten Valiostr from the north?”
“Everybody would have a happy life,” I muttered.
“I doubt it. Perhaps that might have been possible six hundred years ago, when the kingdom was not yet so strong, but now, when your army is the most powerful in all the Northern Lands, I doubt it very much. Without a constant threat from the north, you would turn your attention to the south. War with Miranueh. How many thousands of dead would be left on the battlefields? And then the orcs. They have always been a thorn in your side, and you would wipe them out. Thousands of thousands of lives lost yet again. And what do we get as a result, Harold? If not for the Nameless One, who is like a sword suspended over Valiostr, the whole north of Siala would have drowned in blood. And the Nameless One is not the only force restraining men.”
“Leave all that verbiage to the philosophers, Messenger!” I said, getting angry. “Once the sorcerer reaches Valiostr, everything will happen just as you said, only after the fall of the kingdom, it will be the orcs who do it.”
“You do not understand the purpose of the Game, Dancer.”
“I couldn’t give a damn for these games! How can someone decide everything for everyone else?”
“It is his world, do not forget that.”
“So if it’s his world, he’s allowed to destroy the alliance between the dark and light elves in order to save the orcs?” I objected, remembering my recent dream.
“This world needs the orcs, and the Master does not want them to disappear because of your whim.”
“Another restraining force?”
“Not only,” the Messenger replied evasively, and asked, “So what answer will you give me? Do you agree to forget about the Rainbow Horn?”
I said nothing, thinking very hard, then came out with: “And what will happen if I don’t agree?”
“Why, nothing!”
“Nothing?” I couldn’t believe my ears.
“What did you expect? That I would try to frighten you? Nothing will happen! You will sit there until you die of hunger. Of course, you will be reborn in the House of Love . . after a while, when everybody has forgotten all about the Horn. Do you think that artifact is so very important to the Master? Everything you see around you, all your friends, the entire world—it is all just one big Game that you will never understand. If the Horn stays here, the Master will win. If you take the Horn, the master will still win anyway, although it may be ten times more difficult. Even if the Gray Ones do nothing, even if the balance is disrupted, even if the Fallen Ones break out and destroy Siala, the Game will simply move on to the next turn of the spiral. Nothing depends on you. It is simpler if the Horn remains untouched. It is easier to win the Game, that is all there is to it.”
I didn’t like anything about our conversation, all these stories about the Fallen Ones, other Masters, some stupid Game. I didn’t believe the Messenger.
“Why don’t these Fallen Ones take what’s lying under their very noses?”
“Question time is over now, I need your answer.”
“Since nothing depends on me, my answer is no.”
The golden eyes studied me closely. Eventually, after a long silence, the Messenger said, “Well, the Master knew that would be your answer. That is a pity, thief. But in that case I would like to make a deal with you.”
“What sort of deal?” I asked cautiously, suspecting a trick.
“I will offer you two ways of getting out of this trap, and for that you will carry out a Commission for the Master.”
“What sort of Commission?”
“Who knows what might need to be stolen for the Master in the near future? All I need now is your word.”
I didn’t say anything.
“So you agree?” he asked with a note of annoyance in his voice. “If the Horn is destined to reappear in the world, let it be by the hand of another Dancer. We’ll liven up the Game.”
What risk was I taking? The Master obviously had some kind of plan, otherwise he wouldn’t allow me to take the Horn, even if I was a Dancer in the Shadows three times over. But I couldn’t give a damn for the games of the gods, or whoever it was that controlled the world.
“I agree.”
“Wonderful! The first way of getting out of here is to kill yourself. Do you have a knife? You are a Dancer, and you are immortal. As soon as you die, you will find yourself in the House of Love.”
“That option doesn’t suit.”
Of course, it’s delightful to learn that you’re immortal (although I didn’t believe it), but the last thing I was planning on doing was to slit my throat from ear to ear.
“Then you will prefer the second option. Below you there is a pool. If you dive into it and swim, you will come to the Level Between Levels. From there you can reach any place in the Palaces of Bone. Look for a door with a red triangle on it. Walk through it, and you will find yourself on the eighth level, very close to Grok’s grave. Keep straight on without turning off the path and you will reach your goal. Until we meet again, thief, I leave you in pleasant and trustworthy company.”
“Wait! Who is Player?”
“You’ll find out in good time. Do you have any more questions?”
“If you’re here, why don’t you take the Horn yourself?”
“If I could, this conversation would never have taken place.”
“How long do I have to swim underwater?”
“Oh, not very long! Six minutes at the most.”
An instant later, he was gone.
And that was when I started getting the shakes. I still couldn’t believe I’d been talking to the Messenger, I still couldn’t believe he hadn’t laid a finger on me. I still couldn’t believe I knew who the Master was and what he
