"Kabraxis," Raithen reminded, growing impatient.

"In the beginning years," Lhex said, "when the Vizjerei first began experimenting with demon summoning, Kabraxis was supposed to be one of those demons summoned over and over again."

"Why?"

"Because Kabraxis operated the mystical bridges that stretched from the demon worlds to our world more easily than many did."

"The Black Road is a bridge to the Burning Hells?" Raithen asked.

"Possibly. I told you this was all a story. Nothing more." Lhex tapped the drawing of the elliptical lines threaded through by the solitary one. "This drawing represents the power Kabraxis had to walk between the Burning Hells and this world."

"If the Black Road isn't the bridge between this world and the Burning Hells," Raithen asked, "what else could it be?"

"Some have said it was the path to enlightenment." Lhex rubbed his face as if bored, then smothered a yawn.

"What enlightenment?" Raithen asked.

"Power," Lhex said. "Is there anything else that the legends would offer?"

"What kind of power?"

Lhex frowned at him, faking a yawn and leaning back comfortably against the wall behind them. "I'm tired, and I grow weary of telling you bedtime stories."

"If you want," Raithen suggested, "I can have Bull come back and tuck you in."

"Maybe I'll get his other ear," Lhex suggested.

"You're an evil child," Raithen said. "I can imagine why your father shipped you away to school."

"I'm willful," Lhex corrected. "There is a difference."

"Not enough of one," Raithen warned. "I've got gold enough that I can do without your ransom, boy. Making the king pay is only retribution for past indignities I've suffered at his hands."

"You know the king?" Lhex's eyebrows darted up.

"What power can Kabraxis offer?" the pirate captain demanded.

The river current shifted Barracuda again. She floated high, then slithered sideways a moment before settling in. The rigging slapped against the masts and yardarms above.

"They say Kabraxis offers immortality and influence," Lhex replied. "Plus, for those brave enough, and I can't imagine there being many, there is access to the Burning Hells."

"Influence over what?"

"People," Lhex said. "When Kabraxis last walked this world-according to the myths I've read in the philosophy studies I did-he chose a prophet to represent him. A man named Kreghn, who was a sage of philosophy, wrote about the teachings of Kabraxis. And I tell you, that was a very ponderous tome. It bored my arse off."

"The demon's teachings? And it wasn't a banned book?"

"Of course it was," Lhex answered. "But when Kabraxis first walked this world then, no one knew he was a demon. That's the story we've all been told, of course, and there's no proof of it. But Kabraxis was better thought of than some of the demons of legend."

"Why?"

"Because Kabraxis wasn't as bloodthirsty as some of the other demons. He bided his time, getting more and more followers to embrace the tenets he handed down through Kreghn. He taught his followers about the Three Selves. Have you heard of that concept?"

Raithen shook his head. His mind buzzed steadily, gainingspeed as he tried to figure out what Buyard Cholik was doing seeking out remnants of such a creature.

"The Three Selves," Lhex said, "consist of the Outer Self, the way a person portrays himself or herself to others; the Inner Self, the way a person portrays himself or herself to himself or herself; and the Shadow Self. The Shadow Self is the true nature of a man or woman, the part of himself or herself that he or she most fears-the dark part every person struggles hardest to hide. Kukulach teaches us that most people are too afraid of themselves to face that truth."

"And people believed that?"

"The existence of the Three Selves is known," Lhex said. "Even after Kabraxis was supposedly banished from this world, other sages and scholars carried on the work Kreghn began."

"What work?"

"The study of the Three Selves." Lhex grimaced as if displeased at Raithen's listening skills. "The legend of Kabraxis first developed the theory, but other scholars-such as Kukulach-have made our understanding of it whole. It just sounds better couched in terms that led the superstitious to believe this was one of the bits of wisdom we needed to save from the demons. Fairy tales and mechanisms to define social order, that's all they were."

"Even so," Raithen said, "there's no power in that."

"The followers of Kabraxis reveled in the exposure of their Shadow Selves," the boy said. "Four times a year, during the solstices and the equinoxes, Kabraxis's worshippers came together and partied, reveling in the darkness that dwelt within them. Every sin known to man was allowed in Kabraxis's name during the three days of celebration."

"And afterward?" Raithen asked.

"They were forgiven their sins and washed again in the symbolic blood of Kabraxis."

"That belief sounds stupid."

"I told you that. That's why it's a myth."

"How did Kabraxis get here?" Raithen asked.

"During the Mage Clan Wars. There was some rumor that one of Kreghn's disciples had managed to open a portal to Kabraxis again, but that was never confirmed."

Has Cholik confirmed it? Raithen wondered. And did that trail lead here, to the massive door that is located beneath the ruins of Tauruk's Port?

"How was Kabraxis banished from this world?" Raithen asked.

"According to legend, by Vizjerei warriors and wizards of the Spirit Clan," Lhex replied, "and by those who stood with them. They eradicated the temples to Kabraxis in Vizjun and other places. Only wreckage of buildings and broken altars remain where the demon's temples once stood."

Raithen considered that. "If a man could contact Kabraxis-"

"And offer the demon a path back into this world?" Lhex asked.

"Aye. What could such a man expect?"

"Wouldn't the promise of immortality be enough? I mean, if you believed in such nonsense."

Raithen thought of Buyard Cholik's body bent with old age and approaching infirmity. "Aye, maybe it would at that."

"Where did you find that?" Lhex asked.

Before Raithen could respond, the door opened, and Bull stepped inside.

"Cap'n Raithen," the big pirate said, holding a lantern high. Concern stretched his features tight. "We're under attack."

Only a few steps short of the pirate about to scream out, Darrick leapt into the air. The other two pirates who had been playing dice reached for their weapons as Darrick's feet slammed into the pirate's head.

Caught by surprise and by all of Darrick's weight, almost too drunk to stand, the pirate flew over the steep side of the riverbank. He didn't even scream. The hardthump told Darrick that the pirate had struck the wooden deck of the ship below instead of the river.

"What the hell was that?" a pirate called out from below.

Darrick landed on the bare stone ground, bruising his hip. He clutched his cutlass and swiped at the nearest pirate's legs, slashing both thighs. Blood stained the man's light-colored breeches.

"Help!" the stricken pirate yelled. "Ahoy the ship! Damn it, but he's cut me deep!" He stumbled backward, trying to pull his sword free of its sash but forgetting to release the ale bottle he already held.

Pushing himself up and drawing the cutlass back again, Darrick drove the pirate backward, close to the riverbank's edge. He whipped the cutlass around and chopped into the pirate's neck, cleaving his throat in a bloody spray. The cutlass blade lodged against the man's spine. Lifting his foot, Darrick shoved the dying man over the riverbank. He turned, listening to the splash as the pirate hit the water only a moment later, and saw Mat engaging the final pirate on guard at the supply station.