Su-Cha returned soon after daybreak. He wore a chagrined look. "She shook me in the Protte rookery. I figured she'd cross to Henchelside, so I staked out King's Ferry. She never showed."

Soup snickered. Spud said, "We'll hear from her again. How can she resist that great chunk of beef?" He indicated Chaz, snoring in a chair.

Rider returned from setting Preacher and Greystone to searching land titles for a place called Polybos House. "Soup, you and Omar head down to the Golden Crescent. Look at ships recently in from the east. Find ships that carried unusual cargoes or passengers."

"Why?" Soup asked.

"Shai Khe's airship is a small one. He may have brought more men and equipment than it could have carried. He strikes me as careful and methodical. He would not have come unprepared for a difficult campaign."

Soup and Spud departed. They returned that evening with nothing to report. Preacher and Greystone had no luck either. Greystone said, "If a Polybos House exists it has to be outside the Wall." By that he meant outside the legal corporate limits. The city wall proper lay well inside those, and had been in decay for a century.

"Try again tomorrow," Rider said.

"What're you doing?" Preacher asked.

"Trying to analyze the poison on these darts. It's eluded me so far. Looks like something drawn from an insect, though."

Spud said, "The jungles of Maijan fester with poisonous bugs. And lizards and snakes and bats."

"I'll remember that next time I'm in the far east," Chaz grumbled. He was in a sour mood. He had spent the day washing alembics and retorts under the dead, cold eyes of Jehrke.

"Patience, friend," Rider chided. "Our turn will come."

"Soon, I hope." Chaz tested the window Spud had installed, for the hundredth time. "My nerves are getting me."

Soon did not come for four days.

It began with Soup and Spud. They had, at last, found a vessel whose origins and crew were suspect. After watching the ship, and noting the presence of men of both Emerald's and Shai Khe's races, they decided to contact Rider.

But their persistent presence over several days had betrayed them.

The attack was sudden and bold, initiated by a seaman who stepped into their path and shouted,

"At last my brother's daughter's honor will be avenged!" Another half dozen seamen joined him, a wild, scruffy gang of cutthroats.

Spud and Soup were not fooled. The easterner pointed a finger, declared, "You have the wrong men, friend."

The sailor collapsed.

Spud pointed at another man. He went down too.

Blades came out. A howl went up. More sailors materialized.

Soup, meantime, dipped a hand into his pocket and crushed a crystal. That sent a screaming shock through the web. Then he activated an amulet which Rider could track. Then he scattered fistfuls of what looked like gold coins.

Attackers and onlookers alike dived for the money.

Spud dropped another two men with his pointed finger, ducked inside a clumsy cutlass, buried a fist in a fat belly.

Soup's coins started an independent brawl. Then they exploded in the hands or pockets of those who had seized them.

Spud pushed away from the man he had punched. "Let's get out of here!" he yelled.

In the confusion that was not difficult. But ...

Soup laughed. "The idiots! Hoist by their own greed!"

"Oh-oh," Spud said.

"Yeah."

They had slipped into a breezeway to make their getaway. Their path, suddenly, was blocked by men of Emerald's ilk.

Retreat, too, vanished.

Tough-looking orientals had appeared behind them.

"The coin trick won't work this time."

"I didn't reload my spring gun."

"Been nice knowing you. Take it out on the gnarly guys?"

"Let's get them."

Preacher and Greystone had been butting their heads against a stone wall. There was no Polybos House within fifty miles of Shasesserre, at least on record. They were with Rider, plotting a new strategy, when the web relayed Soup's trouble cry.

"Ask around the merchants' taverns," Rider said, and loped out. A minute later he passed out the Citadel gate in a racing chariot, sounding a warning trumpet. Though the way was longer, he took the Via Triumpha, which by law was closed to wheeled vehicles. Because there was no commerce there, few pedestrians were about.

The Via's prime function was as a processional for military holidays, and for the celebration of major victories.

Rider swung off the Via Triumpha a quarter mile from where his men had found trouble. During his mad flight he had acquired an escort of City Guards, who had recognized him and were carrying warning ahead. They made passage through the waterfront district much easier.

So quick was Rider to reach the scene that the crowd had not yet dispersed. A dozen people lay unconscious, not yet carried off by comrades. "Collect these and deliver them to the Citadel,"

Rider told his escort. He left his chariot and set off after the moving disturbance the web noted as the location of his men.

He found the back-up ambush. There were signs of a vigorous fight, and spilled blood. Had Soup and Spud been slain, their bodies carried off with those of their enemies?

His heart sank. Shai Khe was a relentless and merciless opponent.

He allowed his wizard's senses to extend. This was a good time and place to jump someone tracking the missing men.

They were there, just ahead in the breezeway, hidden beneath trash and inside shadows. There were eight of them. They had several mystical devices that would have been potent had they taken Rider unaware. They were growing impatient.

Rider produced a deck of plaques the size of tarot cards. He shuffled out the one he wanted.

It portrayed a man asleep, dreaming hideous devils. The devils were about to seize and drag him through a fiery gap in a background wall. There were graven words around the plaque's margin.

Rider read them aloud.

As he spoke each word, it disappeared. After he spoke the last, the picture itself faded. The plaque crumbled into dust which dribbled between his fingers.

Rider went back and told the City Guards they could collect another eight customers in the breezeway. Then he set out after the receding disturbance marking the location of his men.

He loped to the waterfront, where he immediately identified both the vessel they had unmasked and the outbound fishing smack carrying them. The ship reeked of old sorceries forgotten by all but their victims.

Rider raced back to his chariot, pounded through the streets to the airship yards, where, in accordance with standing instructions, his airships were ready for immediate flight. He selected the fast vessel he had used before.

Liftoff was hectic, as he had to cover the places of crewmen not present, but once he was aloft he had no trouble. He reached through the web, touched Chaz and Preacher, told them he wanted everyone atop their tower of the Citadel. He tried to reach Soup and Spud, but a grey null intervened. They might be unconscious. Or worse.

Chaz and Su-Cha were in the parapet when Rider halted the airship above the Citadel. Both carried packs. Rider hastened to the gondola door, dropped a rope ladder. As Chaz and Su-Cha scrambled up, Greystone and Preacher appeared.

"What's up?" Chaz demanded as he clambered aboard.

"The game is afoot. They snatched Spud and Soup. What are the packs?"

"Some odds and ends we threw together. Just in case."

"The laboratory secure?"

Su-Cha chuckled. "And then some."