In this case, however, he had too much to keep track of in the real world. There were too many opponents for Skellum to find the footing he needed to go into dementia space, and having Fulla as a partner further distracted him. Also, he couldn't clear his head of thoughts of Chainer. I'm going to die, he realized, even though I'm rich and handsome. Even though there will be no one to protect my prize student.

The starting horn sounded. Fulla let out a yell, Yewma opened her box, and the toy soldiers drew and advanced.

The druid had unleashed eight large, baboonlike primates, each over seventy pounds and armed with a long canine snout capable of crushing stone. Colorful fur wreathed their heads and shoulders, and they screamed like lunatics turned loose in a graveyard. They were the wild predators of the deep woods, chasing down their quarry and tearing it to pieces as an organized pack. Skellum wasn't sure what Yewma had bewitched them with, but the druid was careful to leap out of their line of sight once she had opened the box.

Skellum spun his hat faster and faster. It was the only weapon he had. Fulla, meanwhile, had created a zombified rhino and a small, hissing hydra. The rhino charged directly at the Order trio, but she had to drive the hydra forward with her sword before it joined the battle.

When the rhino was twenty feet away and closing, the justicar raised his hands over his head and clapped them together. A bolt of the purest white lightning leaped from the point of contact to the rhino's body and the zombified hulk literally exploded, raining fetid flesh all over the arena. Fulla swore and charged forward herself, driving the hydra as she went.

The largest mandrill came straight at Skellum, while the others formed an attack column behind him. Two of the group broke off and circled wide around him on either side, and the main body slowed to allow them to get into position for an all-out assault. They never stopped whooping and screaming.

Skellum's view of the arena started to shudder and melt, the first signs of the trance. He opened his eyes wider, never more desperate to find that other world within and disappear inside.

Chainer waited outside the First's chamber until a hand attendant came to admit him. He had never been alone with the First before, and he was eager to make a good impression without Skellum to run interference for him, or Kamahl to cover for. Of course, the First was always surrounded by his attendants, but once you got used to them it was easy to overlook them as separate entities.

Inside the chamber, Chainer was disappointed to see someone other than the First and his attendants waiting. He was a tall man, slightly blue, with small silver horns. Chainer recognized him but waited for the formal introduction.

"Ambassador Laquatus of Mer," the First said, "meet Chainer, one of our best dementists-in-training."

Laquatus looked Chainer over and disdainfully held out his hand, knuckles up, for Chainer to take. "Charmed." he said.

Chainer slapped his metal hand on top of the merman's and his other hand below. He forced the ambassador's hand perpendicular to the floor and shook it vigorously, disarranging the ambassador's carefully wrapped robe.

"The pleasure's all mine, Ambassador." Laquatus quickly withdrew his hand as soon as Chainer released it. Chainer smiled pleasantly at the merman.

"We were just discussing the future of Otaria," the First said. "Grand stuff, but it has to start somewhere. Ambassador Laquatus and I are starting it here and now."

"The Mer Empire is the sea, " Laquatus said, "and Cabal City is a port city. We have always had much in common."

The First scowled slightly but went on. "But not enough in common, unfortunately. I was just describing how the crusat raids have begun again and how disruptive they are to business."

"The Mer Empire is always concerned about maintaining the flow of commerce between the land and the depths."

The First waited patiently for Laquatus to finish. "But not concerned enough," he added.

"You have to understand, Patriarch," Laquatus said, "the Empire has a long, solid relationship with the Order. They aren't like you. They don't have a single ruler who speaks for them all with a single voice. While one division prepares for crusat, the others are merely trying to rebuild. Morally and economically, I cannot turn my back on the entire Order."

Chainer choked back a snort when the Ambassador said, "morally," and he saw the shadow of a smile on the First's lips, too.

"I would never ask you to do something so drastic as to turn your back on the entire Order," the First said. "Indeed, even we don't want the Order to be wiped out entirely. Do we, Chainer?"

"No, Pater," Chainer's tone belied his words. "Not at all."

"We simply want there to be peace between our two groups. Civilized people don't kill each other because of philosophical differences. I was hoping I could convince the ambassador to join us in censuring the Order. Lodging official protests over the crusat. Demanding restitution from Bretath, if he ever returns to this region. Perhaps, Ambassador" the First said, "it isn't your relationship with the Order that needs to be solidified. It's your relationship with the Cabal."

Laquatus smiled greedily. "You have something in mind, Patriarch?" "I do. You recently lost your champion, did you not? And while it served you well, and was formidable in combat, it was never as… refined as a man of your stature requires."

"Turg was an excellent jack," Laquatus said. "He is sorely missed." "What if my young dementist here were to provide you with a new champion? As I say, he's one of our best."

"A most generous offer," Laquatus said, "but if we really want to strengthen the bond between us, might I suggest something even more valuable?" With the exception of the First's attendants, everyone in the room knew what he meant. Chainer's fists clenched.

"The Mirari has already been slated as the grand prize in the Cabal City Games, to be held three months from now. My apologies, Ambassador. It is no longer mine to offer. But please," he gestured at Chainer to step up, "accept a new familiar from us. As a gesture of good faith."

Chainer came forward. "I can make you forget the frog," he said. "Tell me what you need, and the Cabal will produce it."

Laquatus looked him over once more. "It must be powerful. Unbeatable."

"Then it will be."

"It must be obedient. Minimal intelligence, highly developed instincts."

"Then it will be."

"It must be mobile. Able to accompany me wherever I go, above ground or below the sea." "It will be."

Laquatus looked to the First. "When?"

The First smiled. "Regrettably, Chainer is unavailable for the next week or so. But as soon as he returns, he will be at your disposal."

Chainer watched the merman building a timeline in his head. "Can't he start now?"

"Alas, no. He is still recovering from injuries suffered in the pits."

Laquatus finished calculating. "A week, then. With your permission, Patriarch, I will stay on in the guest house and continue to enjoy the sights and sounds of Cabal City while I wait for the boy to heal."

"Outstanding. Now, if you will excuse us, Chainer has a report to make."

Laquatus was slow to leave, but the hand attendants gathered around him and firmly led him to the door. Chainer knew he could speak freely, for the First's attendants always escorted his guests all the way out into the street. Laquatus was just the kind to try to linger behind in order to eavesdrop. He shuddered, overcome by a fit of revulsion for the fawning politician.

Once Laquatus was gone, the First spoke to Chainer casually. Not as an intimate, but as a peer. "I'm sorry to call you away from the pits, Caster Chainer, but the ambassador needed seeing to. It was not difficult to arrange for your replacement."