"I have no objections to the dementist's proposal," Laquatus said quickly.

The First was slower to respond. "Very well," he said. "But one use of the Mirari is a reward. The second must be paid for."

"Pater. I am always at your service."

"When shall the Mirari be employed on my behalf?" Laquatus asked.

Chainer and the First exchanged a knowing glance, then each nodded. Laquatus was beside himself that they were communicating right in front of him, and he had no idea.what they were saying.

"Two days hence," the First said, and Chainer nodded again. "Now, there is one final matter that I need to address." He clapped his hands once, and the former Master of the Games was dragged, bound and kicking, into the chamber. She was gagged, but she continued to babble incoherently through the heavy cloth.

"Capau, be still." The sound of her secret name drained all the energy out of the former Master of the Games. She stood dazed and listless, her eyes glassy and fearful. The First gestured, and one of his attendants stepped forward and slashed her bonds from her wrists and ankles. The former Master of the Games stood perfectly still as if unaware of her new freedom.

Laquatus stole a glance at Louche, who had just taken over the dangerous position. For once the bitter little man was not thinking of how much others annoyed him. In fact, Laquatus didn't need to read minds to understand the sickly, haunted look on Louche's face.

"Sadget, step forward" the First intoned, and Fleer woodenly took up the space next to the bound master.

"You have failed, my children," the First said. "But in the Cabal failure is not punishable by death. Failure requires correction, not extinction. Your failures, however, have cost the Cabal too much. You will make amends for the lives and the materials wasted by your blundering." The First spread his arms wide, and for once none of his attendants jumped forward to do his bidding. In fact, Laquatus thought, even the near-mindless hand attendants were staying well clear of Fleer and the formerly bound woman.

"I forgive you, my children, for your failure." The First smiled at Laquatus, and added, "My greatest flaw is a tendency to overindulge my family. I can never stay angry at them for long." Laquatus smiled politely, but the Cabalists continued to writhe in horror before the First.

"Capau. Sadget. Accept your forgiveness, and your Pater's love. Embrace me and settle your account, so this matter can be forgotten."

Laquatus saw frenzied bolts of terror flash across Louche's mind, and even Chainer seemed apprehensive. The merman was fascinated. He had never seen anyone so much as brush the sleeve of the First's robe. He understood physical contact with their patriarch was the Cabalists' only taboo, and yet two of them were being beckoned into the First's arms by the man himself.

The errant Cabalists stepped woodenly forward, shuffling like sleepwalkers. Tears of terror were streaming down Fleer's face, and the former Master of the Games seemed almost catatonic. They came forward, however, and stood perfectly still as the First wrapped them both in his long arms.

As soon as the gray flesh of the First's hand touched the squirming Cabalists, they began to scream. The First tightened his grip and locked his hands together with Fleer and the deposed master held tight. Their skin blackened where he touched it. The patches of stricken skin spread like fire across a pool of oil, and fine tendrils of black smoke drifted from the victims into the First's waiting nostrils. The Cabal patriarch tightened his grip again and threw his head back. The two figures in his arms were now scarcely recognizable as human. Instead, they seemed to be delicate, paper-thin flowers that were drooping, dying, and rotting all in a matter of seconds. The hollow, brittle rinds of two adult Cabalists collapsed into a thousand fragments as the last of their essence was converted into ebon mist and absorbed by the First.

"Now," the First had grown larger, more robust, "all is truly forgiven." He clapped his hands together, dislodging ashen fragments from his sleeves. "Chainer," he said, "stay with me. The rest of you are dismissed with my thanks."

Laquatus followed Louche as the guards led them out and down the hallway. He would have to be especially careful now. In two days he would be in the same room with the Mirari while Chainer employed it. Everyone else who tried to use the sphere died in cataclysmic circumstances while the Mirari rolled free. If Chainer were going to destroy himself as Pianna and Aboshan had, Laquatus intended to make sure that this time he was the one who caught the bouncing ball.

While the others were led away, the First had his attendants hold up documents for him to read, nodding once for each when he was finished. The attendants made the First's mark on the scrolls he approved, then took them away.

"It was a terrible thing, this crusat raid," the First said.

Chainer nodded.

"Such a thing should never be allowed to happen again," the First continued.

Chainer nodded.

"There were a hundred Cabal fatalities and twice a hundred injuries. But even more than for the murder of our brethren, I want Major Teroh and the other hard-liners to pay for their arrogance. Do they think they can attack us in our own home and walk away with only a bloodied nose? They owe us restitution, and no one walks away from a Cabal debt."

"The First is wise."

"You know what I'm going to ask, don't you?" The First's eyes were calm and wide.

"Yes, Pater."

"And in return, you know I will grant you a second use of the Mirari."

"Yes, Pater."

"When can you leave?"

"Tonight, Pater. After I have visited Kamahl and tried my best to heal him. He was instrumental in my shikar. I cannot leave him to the leeches."

The First nodded. "What did you think of my demonstration?"

Chainer paused. "I think the ambassador either encouraged or enabled the raid. I think he still wants the Mirari. I think he intends to use it to take control of Mer, and then he will come for Otaria."

"He will try," the First agreed. "But there is value in an ally with no morals. If he will betray us to the Order, he will in turn betray the Order to us."

"The First is wise."

"Let us discuss the details of the casting you have planned for him. I may be able to… improve the overall result."

"As soon as I return, Pater."

"Outstanding. Now," he thrust his hands deep into the sleeves of his robe. "Let us attend to your barbarian friend."

Thirty miles up the eastern road from Cabal City, the Samite sanctuary was filled to capacity. Nibahn the healer was on her third trip to the apothecary for clean bandages and sleeping herbs. The majority of her patients were expected to live through the night, but only if she and her staff worked round the clock. She believed utterly in the Order, but she despised the brutality of the crusat. The Samite way of universal tolerance was the only way she knew to bring about a better world.

Halfway back to the hospital, a whispered voice from the shadows hissed, "Healer." Nibahn adjusted the thick bundle of bandages and clay bottles under one arm and approached the sound. "Hello? Are you wounded? All are welcome. All are safe. Will you come forward?" She could make out two human figures in the darkness, two men of roughly equal size. One of them took a half step forward and spoke.

"Kindness for kindness, Samite. No one walks away from a Cabal debt." Nibahn felt something round and hard strike her forehead, and she fell back in a swoon. Though conscious, she was too stunned by the blow to see or move. Someone wrapped metal bonds around her hands, and dragged her roughly by the collar into the shadows.