His eyes slammed shut as a blast of heat burned his eyebrows away. He was temporarily deafened by the explosion, and the pain in his right arm was agonizing. The impact blew him back on his heels, but he didn't stagger or fall.

"Held my ground, gods damn it," he heard his own voice say. He started to sway, his eyes still squinted and unfocused. He could barely make out the old dwarf and the brass girl as they stood, side by side, staring over at him. They were curious, but they were keeping a safe distance.

Confused, Chainer looked at the flag, still untouched. He was helpless. Why weren't they finishing him off or climbing the mound?

"Do you give, Cabalist?" Chainer could see her shouting, cupping her hands around her mouth, but he could barely hear her. He recognized her tone, however, as that of someone who knows the fight is over even if nobody else does.

Chainer reached for his dagger, and a fresh wave of searing pain dropped him to his knees. His left hand seemed fine, but his right felt thick and vague and clumsy. Chainer held his arm up to get a better look at his hand.

"Or not," he said out loud. His right arm ended in a charred, smoking stump. His hand was completely gone, and his forearm now ended two inches below the elbow.

"Damn," Chainer said. He turned his dazed eyes on Balthor and Jeska. He looked back at his mangled arm. With an amiable smile, Chainer raised his arm and his stump over his head.

"I give," he said evenly. Then he collapsed face- first onto the arena floor. The last thing he heard before he passed out was the sound of the horn signaling the end of the match.

Llawan's personal transport was a ninety-foot- long leviathan that had been specially bred, engineered, and enchanted to serve as a combination warship and yacht. Its insides were vast and hollow, with compartments that could accommodate air breathers as well as sea creatures. Its hide was thick and durable, and its head was hard and bony enough to ram through the sides of any wooden vessel. Specially trained handlers sat in the fore of the creature's skull and steered the ship based on orders from the captain and the view from a huge scrying screen.

The creature had clear crystalline chambers grafted onto its sides and back where passengers could dine, chat, and enjoy the view. These cabins could be removed or, in times of emergency, broken off to protect the empress and her armed guards inside. Though it had no offensive capabilities other than its ramming skull, the creature was fast enough to escape even the swiftest pursuers.

Veza eyed the clear wall that separated her cabin from the frigid depths of the ocean. She couldn't drown, and they weren't deep enough for the pressure to be a danger, but she was still uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because she knew that the passengers in the external compartments were considered expendable in case of attack.

The closer the craft got to Aboshan's territory, the more somber the mood became. Nobles who had ignored Veza since coming on board suddenly felt the need to chat with her, to hear what she knew, to clutch at any straws she might offer. When they found she knew even less than they did, they moved on without another word. Veza was the only legged creature on board, at Llawan's continued request.

Excuse me, honored guests. The voice was painfully loud, and echoed in Veza's head. Everyone on board seemed to have received the same amplified thought message.

The Empress Llawan requests your immediate presence in the forward viewing pod. She will make a short address there. Please hurry.

The gentle sense of forward motion eased, then stopped. The ship was no longer swimming toward Aboshan. There were murmurs and a few anguished questions, but no one knew what was in store for them. Were they turning around? Had they been met at the border by Aboshan's navy?

The tubes that connected the external cabins were only wide enough for one humanoid at a time, so Veza and the other guests waited patiently to join the single-file line to the front of the craft. Veza was one of the last ones into the forward cabin. She stepped up to the doorway, which shimmered like the surface of a pool. She cleared her lungs and walked into the flooded chamber. Magic kept the water from running out into the hallway and flooding the next compartments. Llawan floated at the front of the chamber in complete regalia of scepter, skull-cap, and imperial robes. If everyone on board seemed anxious, it was because Llawan had commandeered all the confidence. Floating beside her was a small cephalid male with a hood pulled up over his head. His face was impassive, his eyes were closed. Llawan raised her forelimb for silence, and the room fell quiet.

"Noble guests and loyal friends," she said. "We are mere moments away from a most impressive sight. We had hoped to address you before the event began, but we fear we shall have to wait. Please remain silent. And… watch." Llawan swam back a stroke, and presented the forward view with a grandiose wave of her tentacle.

The guests watched in hushed awe. The ocean stretched out before them, a vast and uniform curtain illuminated only by the leviathan's lights. A full minute ticked by, and nothing happened.

Then across the vast expanse ahead of them came a deep, booming crack. Veza felt it all over her body as the water around her vibrated. Some of the more sensitive cephalids keened in pain as their delicate skin reacted to the trembling sound. A pinpoint of light flashed in the distance and grew, taking up more and more of the view as it came closer and closer. It was a frothy light, blue in color, and it boiled like a cloud of steam.

"The shock wave approaches, Empress." The hooded cephalid did not open his eyes, but he bowed his head when he spoke. The phrase "shock wave" set off a few startled cries, but Llawan's voice rang out loud and clear.

"Stay where you are," she said. "We have brought you here to witness, and we will keep you safe. Olsham," she clicked to the hooded cephalid, and he nodded. Olsham began to croon a low, haunting tune that Veza found eerily soothing.

"The Emperor Aboshan has just used the Mirari," Llawan said. "Our mind-rider Olsham has been closely monitoring the situation.

His phenomenon is almost identical to the one which occurred ai Captain Pianna's headquarters mere weeks ago. Judging by the size of that-" Llawan pointed at the shock wave, which now filled the viewing window- "we would say that Aboshan's custody of the Mirari was no more successful than Pianna's."

Llawan's guests digested this among themselves. Someone from the rear chirped, "So we're safe?"

Llawan smiled. "From Aboshan? Yes. From that?" She pointed again. "Time will tell." She turned and clicked at Olsham, who bowed. The water around the empress swirled, and her shield defenders formed a rock-hard bubble with Llawan at its center.

The cephalid mystic Olsham held one final syllable in his chanted song, folded all of his limbs into a complicated symbol-ges-ture, and slammed his beak shut with a clack.

Just as the first edges of the shock wave started jostling the empress's craft, the hooded mystic released a flashing wave of energy that spread out in all directions. The blue-white light suffused the ship and its passengers just as the full force of the rampaging turbulence slammed through their location. Veza and the other guests stood amazed as water, debris, and the bodies of hapless creatures passed through their ghostly forms without meeting any resistance. It was if the leviathan had ceased to exist, but was looking on from the same vantage point. Even the water in the viewing chamber remained still as the storm raged around them.

Many long minutes later, when the tumult had died down and it was safe for the ship to move again, the ghostly light retracted back into Olsham. He unfolded his arms, adjusted his hood, and sank down to the chamber floor.