egg-shaped corona surrounding the skull, badly flawed. He told himself that this was what came of slave labor, of forcing an artist to execute someone else's vision, but he knew better. The truth was that he lacked strength. With not a single opportunity since his arrival in Shade to expel Khelben, Laeral, and Storm from his stomach, he had refused to eat, and the long fast had left him too dizzy, weak, and blurry-eyed to do a good job. Aris's guards- three of a dozen Shadovar warriors hired by Malik to keep constant watch over him-made approving noises from below. Like most of their fellows, this trio acted more like assistants than keepers, passing him tools and running to fetch water kegs whenever he grew thirsty. They also heaped praise upon everything he did, even on the shape studies he made before beginning a new work. Aris did not know whether this was something they genuinely felt or that Malik had instructed them to do in the hope of keeping him happy and productive. In any case, the adoration had grown so ludicrous that the shape studies had to started to disappear when he was finished with them. He had started to shatter the roughs before discarding them, lest the guards-or, more likely, Malik-sell them as Aris originals. Even slaves had their standards.
Finally, he stepped back into the narthex to study his work and banged his skull on the rib of a ceiling vault His head began to reel, and he had to brace himself against a column. His hammer, which he had not even realized he had dropped, clunked to the floor and sent a flake of marble as large as a vulture skittering down the arcade.
A guard peered out from around the column behind which he had dived for cover, his sapphire eyes shining like blue stars in his dark face.
'Aris?' The wispy voice belonged to Amararl or Gelthez- Aris could never tell one Shadovar from another. 'Are you all right?'
Aris nodded but continued to lean against the column.
'You're sure?' This guard was bold enough to step over beside Aris's knee and ask, 'Do you need a keg of water?'
'No, I am well.' He flicked his free hand in the direction of the sun-and-skull relief and said, 'Though it would be hard to tell from that.'
'What are you talking about?' asked the first guard. 'It's not beautiful, exactly, but compelling-very compelling. And those empty eyes…' He shuddered. 'I can almost see the dark suns burning in them.'
Aris pushed off the column and leaned forward, studying the eye sockets.
'You do not think the left eye is pear-shaped?' the giant asked.'
The guard craned his neck to study the dark sigil.
'Maybe a little.'
'Or the other one too large?' asked Aris.
'Larger than the other one,' said the third guard. 'But it only adds to the effect-and places it firmly in period.'
'In period?' Aris scowled down. 'What period?'
'Your Slave Period,' the first guard said. 'While your excellence of detail has slipped under Malik's output pressures, it's widely acknowledged that under bondage, your work has raised grimness to a level of the sublime.'
'There's quite a debate raging among the princes as to whether this is your best work or your worst,' said the second guard. 'The Most High has yet to decree.'
'What do you think?' asked the third. 'It would be interesting to hear the artist's opinion.'
'My opinion is that your princes know nothing about art,' Aris grumbled. He started to retrieve his hammer, then suddenly realized there was a reason his keepers behaved more like assistants than guards. Trying to suppress a smile, he placed his hands on his knees and stooped down so he could speak quietly. 'But I am flattered to know you think so highly of my work'
'Indeed,' said the first. 'Were it not for the chance to watch you, do you think anyone would work for what Malik is willing to pay?'
Now Aris did smile. 'Is that why you were taking my shape studies?'
'Not exactly.' The guards cast nervous looks at each other, then the second one continued, 'We took a handful for ourselves-it's the only way someone less than a lord can afford your work-but Malik claimed most.'
'He was offering them as gifts to anyone who joined his church,' said the third guard.
'Why am I not surprised?' Aris growled. 'After all I taught him, he knows better than to show a rough!'
The Shadovar shared smiles, then the first one said, 'He certainly knew you would not like what he was doing. You should have seen his face when we told him you had started breaking them.'
'I thought his eyes would pop out of his head,' the second chuckled. 'He actually lay on the floor beating it.'
'Yes, I would have liked to see that.'
Of all the betrayals Malik had perpetrated on him, Aris considered distributing his shape studies to be the worst But he had more immediate problems to worry about, namely finding a few moments of privacy so he could swallow Storm's pill and free the Chosen-before he starved to death. Kneeling on the floor so he could speak even more softly, he fixed his gaze on the first guard, who seemed to be more or less the leader of this trio.
'Gelthez, it is not fair that Malik profits so much from my work,' Aris said, 'while he pays you a starving wage.'
'Amararl,' the guard corrected. He shrugged. 'There are many things in this world that are not fair.'
Aris winced inwardly and forced himself to continue in a casual manner. 'That's so, but it's also true that friends must do what friends can to make the world better for each other. I think I'll make a piece for each of you, if you would like that.'
The mouths of all three dropped open.
'There's nothing I would treasure more!' gasped Amararl.
'It's true what the Arabellans say,' the second guard added. 'Your heart is as big as you are.'
The third guard was not so enthusiastic.
'What would Malik say?'
'Malik may own me, but my work is mine to give.'
'I am certain he would feel otherwise,' said the third guard. 'And the Most High would agree. Whatever a slave makes, a master owns. That is a law as old as Shade itself.'
'How unfortunate.' Aris sighed heavily. 'That is a strange law. No giant would ever honor it.'
Aris left the statement to hang and retrieved his hammer, but continued to kneel on the floor and pretended to study his work. Just as he taught Malik the basics of sculpting, Malik had taught him the principles of negotiation. If his plan was to succeed, he knew that the guards themselves would have to suggest the critical illicit step.
It took only a moment before the first guard, Amararl, turned to the third. 'Malik wouldn't have to know, Karbe.'
'Of course he would have to know,' Karbe said, his amber eyes flashing in anger. 'He is the Seraph of my lord Cyric, the One and All! We could no more deceive him than the Most-'
The objection came to a strangled end as a dagger tip- it belonged to the second guard, Gelthez-erupted from Karbe's chest. Aris cried out in shock, but Amararl reacted by clasping his hand over the mouth of the dying Shadovar and pushing him back onto his attacker's blade. Gelthez finished the murder with a quick back and forth flick, then withdrew the weapon and let his victim collapse to the ground.
'I was so tired of listening to all that babble about The One,' Gelthez said. 'He was about to drive me as mad as his god.'
Amararl kicked the corpse to be certain it was dead, then nodded and looked up at Aris and said, 'I think we can work something out.'
Aris could not stop staring at the corpse. Though he had seen plenty of death in battle, this was the first time he had ever been present at-no, been involved in-a murder.
'You killed him!' Aris gasped.
'Don't worry about him, Aris.' Gelthez knelt over the body and wiped his dagger on its cloak. 'He converted. It is no less than he deserved.'
'Converted?' Aris asked. 'From what?'
