"Precisely. And in these troubled times, I need to move about quickly. My retinue of guards and attendants is too large and unwieldy. If I could replace half of them, even a third, with a single body, it would be a great boon to my work."
"It would be my pleasure, Pater."
"Of course, you would be rewarded for this service. Is there anything you desire? If it is within my power, it shall be yours."
"I can think of nothing right now, Pater." "Well, keep thinking. But now, let us go to the vault." As they returned, the First peppered Chainer with questions about Burke's capabilities, and Chainer dutifully reported the answers. The First was more excited than Chainer had ever seen him, gesturing emphatically and waving his arms wide. His attendants were hard- pressed to stay close by without being accidentally brushed. Chainer carried the Mirari reverently between both hands.
Back in the First's chamber, Chainer called for space, and the First had his guards and attendants all huddle against the far comer of the room. The First waited eagerly opposite his servants, and Chainer stood between them. He held the edge of his left hand against his stomach with the Mirari floating above his palm. He held his metal hand palm-down over the Mirari, and closed his eyes. He held this position and concentrated for a long time, until some of the braver guards began to grumble and jostle the people around them. The time was now, he told himself. This was what he had been preparing for. It was time to truly impress the First.
"Pater."
"Yes, my child?"
"There are two things preventing me from doing what you have asked."
The First frowned. "What are these things? Can they be removed?"
Chainer's eyes snapped open, the void in his sockets endless and impenetrable. "I thought you'd never ask. The first impediment is that it's far too crowded in here." He unfolded his left arm and left the Mirari hanging below his right. A yellow glow shot out of the sphere, up Chainer's arm, and traveled across his body to his outstretched left hand. A massive bolt of black light exploded out of Chainer's hand and slammed into the throng of guards and attendants in the corner. The room shook as the death bolt impacted, and some of the servants screamed before the entire group fell dead where they stood.
"Chainer! What are you doing?"
"The second impediment," Chainer said evenly, "is that you sent Skellum into the pits to die."
"Mazeura," the First was regaining his composure, "attend me." Chainer felt the dominating power of his secret name take hold, and his muscles froze where they were.
"I am the Cabal First," he snarled, "and I do not explain my actions. Look at what we have gained, what you have gained, from the death of a single man. Skellum's time had passed, and he knew it. I think you know it, too. These are dangerous times, my child, and not everyone is going to survive. You are the future of dementia, you are the future of Cabal. That future needs to be fast, focused, versatile, brutal. We need you more than we needed Skellum."
"Do not say 'we,' Pater. You do not speak for me in this."
"I speak for the Cabal in all things. And you are Cabal. The oath you took is not some clubhouse initiation ritual, it is a powerful magical bond. You don't just quit the Cabal because your best friend is gone. You are mine, body and soul, for as long as I want you." "I've been thinking about my oath lately. In Mer they say an oath is nothing more than a contract, and all contracts have loopholes."
The First crossed his arms behind his back. "There are no loopholes in your sacred oath, Mazeura."
"My name is Chainer," he said. "And of course there are. You only have power over me because I gave it to you when I accepted my secret name."
"You accepted much more than that."
"True. But if I could discover your secret name, Pater, wouldn't the roles be reversed? Wouldn't you be as docile before me as I am before you now?"
"No one has known my secret name for a hundred years." Chainer heard the initial strains of uncertainty in the First's voice, and he breathed it in like delicious incense.
"I'm sorry, but that's no longer true… Calchexas." Chainer jutted both palms forward, leaving the Mirari to float freely at his chest. An even larger bolt of energy burst from Chainer's hands and totally engulfed the First. His panicked white eyes were the last thing Chainer saw before the First vanished behind a cloud of black light.
Chainer continued to pour energy into the spell, keeping the First's body surrounded by the roiling field. The First had lived a very long time, he reasoned, and would take a lot of effort to kill. He hadn't dropped yet, and Chainer had never seen anyone withstand the death bloom for so long. In fact, the First was still standing upright as Chainer continued to hurl killing magic at him. "Die," Chainer whispered. With the Mirari he could keep this up for a week. He increased his efforts, and the First was physically driven back into the stone wall. He still stood, however, straight and tall, against an attack that would have overwhelmed an army.
After a full minute of pressing the First against the wall, Chainer broke off. The First's body had been crushed into the stone behind him, and his fine robes were in tatters. He was panting and shaking, but he was very much alive."
"You cannot kill me Mazeura. There is no way you can kill me."
Chainer blasted him again, a brief slap. "Chainer. My name is Chainer."
"You can never kill me, Chainer. I am not merely called the First, I am the first. The first to worship Kuberr. The first to receive his gifts. The first Cabalist. I have lived for centuries. I have fed on bloodlust, greed, and brutality since Otaria was wild and the Mer empire was just another school of intelligent fish. I have been Kuberr's servant since the very beginning, and nothing you do, not even with the Mirari, can prevent me from serving him."
Chainer ran his tongue over his teeth, perturbed. He expected the First to tell outrageous lies and convenient half-truths to save his own life, but here the old viper actually seemed to be telling the truth. At least, he was telling the truth about the death bloom, because it was having almost no effect on him at all.
"So you're immortal?"
"In a sense."
"Then I really can't kill you."
"No. You can't."
Chainer sent a sharpened weight flying toward the First's face. It buried itself in the patriarch's forehead, and Chainer watched the
First's corruption crawl back along the links toward Chainer's hand. Chainer dropped his end before the toxic patina could reach him, and the First actually fell to his knees, clutching feebly at his wound.
"I can try, however." Chainer returned his hands and the Mirari to their position in front of his stomach. The First slumped to one side, groaned, and then got back to his feet.
"We need to settle our account, Chainer. This city… the Cabal itself may not survive an all-out conflict between us. I suggest we come to an understanding." With as much poise as he could manage, the First pulled the sharpened weight out of his head and let it clatter to the floor.
"Very well. You ordered Skellum's death. In return I demand yours."
"Your price is too high and can never be paid. I have a counter offer."
"Name it."
"Cabal City is yours," he said, "if you give me safe passage. The manor, the arena, the pits, even the Mirari."
"And where will you go? Do you really expect me to believe that you'll just disappear?"
"I will go south. Our… my stronghold in Aphetto City. The Parliament of Knives is weak and ineffectual. I have been ignoring them of late, and they could use a firm, guiding hand."
"And in five years you will come back at the head of an army of mages to retake Cabal City by force." The First laughed. "That would be wasteful and unnecessary. In fifty years… less, given your recklessness… you will be gone, and I shall return unopposed. The Cabal is here, and everywhere. I will take it with me, and it will be here when I come back for it."