He turned down the last long hallway that led to the vault and narrowed his eyes. There was already a skirmish going on outside the vault. Two Cabalist humans were grappling with a pair of reptilian pirates, dressed for the sea, and a blue-robed illusionist. Chainer recognized Deidre, the long-nailed door guard, but the other, more simian Cabalist was unknown to him.

The illusionist was bedeviling Chainer's brethren with the image of a small sea monster and a swarm of stinging faeries. Chainer guessed the illusions were as convincing as the real thing when looked at head on, but he could see straight through them. The mage must have cast the illusion so that it only affected the guards in front of her.

Big mistake, Chainer thought. Without slowing, he broke out the full length of his chain and started spinning it overhead. When he was in range, he let out a whoop. The illusionist turned just in time to catch Chainer's rounded weight square in the temple. The sea monster and the faerie faded as the illusionist swooned and fell.

"She's not dead," Chainer said to the pirates. He spoke extra loud, for the record the First would surely make of this incident.

"You soon will be," one of the pirates hissed. Neither of the raiders looked comfortable with the sudden shift in the odds. As the pirate who spoke raised his short spear, the other continued to wrestle with the simian guard.

The spear never flew. Once the pirate had raised it to his ear, Deidre's razor fingers exploded out of the center of his chest. Ice-blue blood poured from the wound, and the reptilian looked down stupidly at Deidre's hand. She yanked it back with a rough jerk, and the pirate dropped to the now-slick floor beside the illusionist.

Deidre smiled at Chainer. "That one's dead," she said, and then she turned and drove her nails into the remaining pirate's spine with a vicious thrust of her right hand. The simian Cabalist continued to wrestle with the lifeless reptile until he realized Deidre had ended his fun. He grunted in exasperation and cast the dead pirate aside.

The unconscious illusionist groaned, and Chainer looked from her to her dead companions to Deidre's brutal smile.

"You killed them," he said.

"That's what I do, little brother." Deidre flicked a drop of blue blood off her index finger.

The noises from other battles echoed down the long hallway, but Chainer was too annoyed to mind them. "I got chewed out by the First himself for killing a bird. A bird! And you butcher two pirates in the blink of an eye and stand there smiling? How fair is that?"

Deidre laughed, and Chainer hadn't realized how disturbing it was to see a tall, beautiful woman smile when she had three eyes and blue blood dripping from both hands.

"The First told us to kill anyone who tries to get through this door," she pointed at the entrance to the vault room. "And if the First says so, it's fair."

Chainer considered. "Anyone?"

"Anyone."

"Including me?"

"Including you, little brother. You're part of anyone, aren't you?"

Chainer spooled his chain around his wrist and took out the censer. "If you don't mind, big sister, I'll go back to the mouth of the corridor and make sure no one else comes down here to rush the vault."

"Please yourself," Deidre said. She rapped the simian Cabalist with her knuckles and gestured to the door. "We'll be here as ordered, just on the off chance that someone gets past you. And little brother?"

"Yes?" Chainer waited.

"You can kill 'em if you want to." Deidre laughed a raucous, unpleasant laugh that made Chainer's blood run cold. As he retreated back down the corridor and the two guards retook their positions on either side of the door, Chainer reminded himself to stay on Deidre's good side.

He lit a charcoal disc, then loaded the censer with Dragon's Blood. The thick smoke soon filled the narrow hallway, and

Chainer began to swing the censer around his head, as Skellum had shown him.

Shouts of battle and screams of pain were echoing throughout the arena, but Chainer focused on the spinning censer and the smoke. Skellum had told him that dementia summoning was all about vision. What you saw, when and how you saw it. If you could see beyond the world around you, you could leave it behind and take yourself to the new place you'd created. Chainer stared at the pewter cage as it flew and smoked, breathing evenly. There were a dozen ways to reach dementia space, and Skellum explained them all in detail. Breathing, stance, concentration, stamina, all of these things and more could affect the end result of a dementia caster's work. Perhaps the old man thought he could give Chainer too much information, could confuse or discourage him from trying what he was about to try. Chainer grinned at the thought. He had an excellent memory, and while he didn't think he could produce a full-fledged dementia monster, he did remember enough of Skellum's lessons to defend the hallway.

Chainer heard the booted tread of an armed party heading his way, but he couldn't see them for the smoke. Deidre and the simian were too far behind to offer advice, but Chainer knew of one sure way to determine friend from foe.

"The Cabal is here," he called.

"Not for long," came the gruff reply. "Swords." Chainer heard multiple blades scraping out of multiple scabbards. "For Kirtar. For the Order." There was a bright flash, and Chainer could make out three glowing blades just beyond the miniature fog bank he had created. Behind the advancing boots, Chainer heard something heavy dragging its feet across the floor.

Chainer focused on the smoke, slowly becoming lost in its oily feel against his skin, the stifling odor, and the painful tears it brought to his eyes. He continued to breathe as Skellum had taught him, always fighting the impulse to cough. The marching feet drew closer.

Above their rhythm Chainer heard the whistling of the chain as it slashed through the air. He reached higher above his head, even going up on his tip toes to elevate the censer as high as he could.

Three members of the Order came slowly but steadily through the smoke, their gleaming swords out in front of them like torches. Chainer was gratified to see that they were crouching slightly, on guard like good toy soldiers ought to be. It gave him more clearance above their heads. He let the chain out another two feet as it spun, so that the Order were inside its radius.

"Who's there?" said the shortest of the three figures. He wore officer's robes and was the one with the gruff voice who had answered Chainer. "In the name of the Order, stand aside!" A tall, manlike figure loomed out of the smoke behind him.

"I'll stand aside," Chainer called, "but you're coming with me." He closed his eyes and remembered the feel of the place Skellum had showed him. Lightheaded, he felt his balance evaporate. He might have been falling forward or backward, down or up.

He remembered what Skellum had forced him to describe before he had ever seen it. The blasted landscape, the threatening skies. Chainer saw a whole world of his own that was just waiting for him to come and claim it. Yet it was tantalizingly out of reach, and all Chainer could do was imagine it.

He felt his stomach drop and suffered an extreme wave of vertigo. He opened his eyes. The hallway, the vault, and the entire building were gone. Chainer stood in a circle of smoke on an endless black sand desert. Three soldiers and a huge limestone golem were with him. The sky above was an unbroken field of sickening mustard yellow, and a bruise-colored moon shone overhead. Opposite the moon was a hole in the sky, and from the jagged hole poured a blood-red river that was slowly creating an inland sea.

Chainer and the Order soldiers alike stared upward, disoriented and hesitant. The limestone golem shuffled forward, oblivious to the change in location. It stood well over eight feet, so