"Hello, Director. I'm about to contact the former empress to discuss terms of her surrender."

Veza's eyes darted to the viewscreen, which showed the exact same standoff she had seen for the past week. Laquatus nodded, Burke gently nudged her forward, and Veza took the seat Laquatus offered her. "Get Llawan on the scrying screen," Laquatus said. He took out his own hand mirror, and Veza watched him whisper into it. She could see a thin man with braided black hair, but she did not recognize him and could not hear his voice. Finally, Laquatus said, "Done. A pleasure doing business with you, as always. And may I add, congratulations on your recent ascension." He paused while the other man spoke. "After today, you will be able to offer me similar sentiments." The mirror went dark, and he put it away with a smug little smile.

"We have the empress, my lord."

"Excellent. Put her on, and have the troops in the chasm stand by."

Llawan appeared in the screen, with the mystic Olsham-his eyes closed-and another cephalid officer at her side. "What do you want, Laquatus?"

"Greetings, Empress. I hope you are well. Isn't it a fine day?"

Veza's dread was like physical pain. She didn't know what Laquatus was up to, but she guessed he had been preparing for it since before he captured the survey vessel. She continued to stare at Olsham, willing the mystic to hear her silent message of warning.

"Speak, irritant. You waste our time."

"This is something in the nature of an official call, I'm afraid. I'm here to offer terms."

"Then you will abandon this farce and submit yourself to imperial justice?"

"Actually, Empress, I was going to offer you one last chance to surrender. You have already lost here. If you leave now, and cede the chasm to me, I will spare you the embarrassment of losing each and every one of your loyal guards. I may even spare your life."

Llawan chittered. "You are a fool, Laquatus. We mock you and spurn your offer."

"Are you sure?" Laquatus's obvious joy twisted Veza's stomach, but Llawan was unimpressed. She began to turn away from the screen.

"Inform the troops," Laquatus said loudly. "Launch an all-out attack on the empress's forces. Begin immediately."

Llawan paused and shook her head. "Your ego has finally grown past the point of your good sense," she said. "But the imperial guard will be happy to accommodate your lunacy."

The occupants of both vessels heard the sounds of renewed combat. Llawan stared grimly at Laquatus, who stared, smiling at Llawan. Veza fought the urge to cry out to Olsham. Whatever was about to happen, the empress's ship would be better off if it were intangible, as her transport had been during the catastrophe that created the chasm.

Olsham opened his eyes. Veza was the only one on board who had seen the empress's shield defenders in action, and so she was the only one who saw their almost transparent bodies stream up and encircle the empress. They did nor harden into their defensive formation, but they stood by, ready to do so.

"Forgive me, Empress," said the yacht's cephalid captain. "But I think you should see this."

Llawan turned, and Laquatus's bridge had a clear and unobstructed view of Llawan's, complete with the image that appeared on its scrying viewscreen. Both bridges stared silently at the images they saw. On Llawan's screen, a steady stream of dark, serpentine figures was pouring out of the chasm and surging forward to attack Llawan's troops. There were thousands of them, a multitude. Along with the ambassador's mercenaries and monsters, they slammed into the empress's line like a crashing wave, and slowly drove it back.

When the empress spoke, it was to her crew, her voice thick with anger.

"What are we looking at?"

"I don't know, Empress. Those creatures seem to be corning from just outside the chasm rather than inside it."

Llawan turned back to Laquatus. "They attack our loyal guards. What are they? What do they want?"

Veza stared as the skirmish grew steadily bigger. Her memory had been jogged by the sight. She remembered a Cabal barge that docked in Breaker Bay some years ago. The Cabalists had set up a makeshift arena and staged a fighting demonstration. A wild- eyed woman with green eyes and a bald head challenged all comers, and she had beaten every one. Not her, Veza corrected herself. The monsters she created.

"They are dementia creatures." Veza's voice was hushed, muted by fear.

Laquatus beamed. "Yes," confirmed the ambassador, "and they are here to kill you, Llawan."

Kamahl watched Chainer release his reply to the attacking angels of vengeance. His casting matched the Order angel for angel, but Chainer's were raven- feathered and armed with spiked maces. The dark angels each engaged a single counterpart, and the terrible cries of all six warriors could be heard throughout the arena.

While the angels continued to battle high above the arena floor, old grudges erupted all around Kamahl and desperate fighters lashed out at each other in an effort to escape. The Mirari Games were quickly turning into a bloody melee, and the crowd loved it. Kamahl wondered how long they would cheer before they realized they, too, were in danger. Neither Chainer nor the Order seemed to care about protecting innocent bystanders.

The crowd around them cleared, and Kamahl got what he'd been waiting for, a line of sight on the justicar.

He sent a small fireball blasting past the armored visor, and called, "Hey, sparky!"

The justicar turned.

"That's more warning than you gave me," Kamahl said. "And more than you deserve. This is twice now you've attacked the Cabal at home. I think it will be the last."

"Stand aside, barbarian," the justicar said. "The Order will settle with you later."

"For you, there is no later." Kamahl hauled his huge sword out and charged.

The justicar sent a jag of lightning at Kamahl, but the barbarian easily drew it into his sword. "You think I don't know lightning? We pick our teeth with lightning up in Pardic." The justicar hurled another bolt which Kamahl also countered, then had to draw his own sword to defend himself.

Kamahl's brass-colored blade rang against Gobal's silver one. The justicar tried to charge up for a larger bolt, but Kamahl was so close that he bled the armored figure's energy off before he could use it, storing it in the blade of his sword.

"You fight like an officer," Kamahl jeered. He butted his head into the justicar's visor, denting it. "Welcome to the pits."

Enraged, Gobal put a crackling hand on Kamahl and shoved him backward. Kamahl staggered but was able to block the justicar's sword stroke as it came down toward his head.

"Is that it, shiny man? Are you really only dangerous when nobody knows your power?"

Another Order soldier threw his spear at Kamahl. The barbarian caught the shaft in midair and burned it to ashes with a glare, but the distraction allowed Gobal enough time and space to raise his arms above his head. Hot, white light from all around the arena streamed into his hands, forming a swelling, crackling ball of energy.

"You're done, justicar." Kamahl launched his broadsword with all his might, skewering Gobal through the chest. The energy stored in Kamahl's sword joined that in the justicar's body, and Gobal screamed. The circuit of energy fed on itself, and light began sparking out from all the seams of the justicar's armor. Kamahl conjured a small throwing axe, knocked Gobal's visor back with a wide round kick, and jammed the axe deep into his enemy's armor.

Kamahl dove to the ground and covered his head just as Gobal exploded. The combination of lightning, fire, and fury was so intense that the sharp metal bits of the justicar's armor melted even before the force of the blast scattered them across the arena. All around him, Kamahl saw warriors and monsters alike cut down by the hail of molten silver.