“Garth?”

Garth, startled, looked up but said nothing.

“What is it, boy?”

Surprised, Garth looked at him closely, struggling to control the shaking that racked his body. And as he looked at him there was somehow a sensing. It was in the old man’s rheumy eyes.

The nightmare drew in closer, as if now to consume his very soul. Garth sagged against the sewer wall, the dagger lighting his way waning to a mere flicker.

“Garth. What is it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Hammen came up and, reaching out, grabbed him by the arm as if to hold him up.

“No, don’t take me. I want to go back!” Garth cried, struggling as if to break away, but his movements were weak, feeble, as if all strength had been drained away.

“Garth!”

Garth looked at him, his eyes wide.

“I want to go back!”

Garth stiffened, a gasp escaping him, and he doubled over for a moment as if he was about to vomit. He finally looked back up, his features drawn as if he were emerging from a fevered dream.

“What did you say?”

Hammen was silent for a moment.

Garth pushed Hammen away and the dagger glowed brightly again.

“Let’s go,” Garth said huskily, even as he wiped his eyes as if to sweep away what he had just seen, his hand coming away wet with tears.

“Galin?” Hammen’s voice was barely a whisper.

Garth looked back at him.

“What did you say?” His voice was quiet.

Hammen was silent and then he shook his head sadly.

“Nothing, Master, nothing. Anyhow, there’s a sewer cover just ahead that comes out behind Fentesk House.”

Hammen turned up into a narrow pipe that was so small Garth had to bend over and crawl on hands and knees. His breath was labored, coming in short, grunting bursts, the sweat beading down his face even though the sewer was chilled and damp like a tomb.

Hammen finally stopped and pointed up. Garth came up beside him, looked up, and saw the grating overhead. He stood up and slowly pushed the grating aside and peered out.

He pulled himself out and then, leaning over, reached down and hoisted Hammen up out of the darkness.

“Now where?”

“I don’t think going back to Purple is a wise idea at the moment,” Garth said quietly, even as he led Hammen over into the shadows opposite Fentesk House. He stopped at a small fountain and pulled off his boots, rinsing them out and then putting them back on, splashing water on his tunic and trousers to wipe off the filth. Hammen watched him and said nothing.

“They traced you back there,” Garth finally continued. “A report must have been turned in. And now, after our bit of revenge, they’ll swarm over it.”

“Thank you, Master,” Hammen whispered.

“For what?” Garth replied sadly. “If it hadn’t been for me, your friends would still be alive.”

“You couldn’t have known it would happen.”

“I should have.”

“But anyhow, for the shadows of my friends I thank you.”

“Shut up.”

“What happened back there?” Hammen nodded back toward the sewer grating they had just crawled out from.

“A spell, I guess,” Garth said hurriedly. “Now let’s go.”

“To where?”

“To Fentesk, where else?”

“Damn it, Master, not again.”

Ignoring him, Garth stepped out of the shadows and strode toward the front of the building.

“I demand that you open up your door and submit to a search!”

Jimak peered out through the small hatch set in the middle of the heavily bolted doorway into the House of Ingkara.

“You have no authority.”

Uriah peered up at the door, the dwarf fighter standing defiant and a flicker of light starting to swirl around him.

“I have eighty-nine fighters in here,” Jimak said coldly. “If you try anything, I guarantee you that when they are finished parts of your body will be raining down on this city for the next three days.”

Uriah hesitated for an instant and then looked over his shoulder.

“Open up, Jimak.”

The Master of Ingkara could not conceal his surprise that the Grand Master himself was outside the door. He had ignored the midnight summons to the palace but the fact that the Grand Master would then lower himself to come to the House of Ingkara in the hour before first bell was simply astonishing.

“I’ll not open up for you or anyone else,” Jimak replied. “You are breaking all the covenants of the Houses by appearing here and demanding a search.”

“Jimak, you know I have enough strength with my own fighters to take your House. They’re waiting just around the corner for my orders to blast their way in.”

Jimak turned his head away, spit, and then looked back.

“And three other Houses will storm your palace before daybreak. We might hate each other, but we’ll always stand against you if you attempt to break us.”

“The same as with the Turquoise House?” the Grand Master whispered.

Jimak looked over his shoulder and then back at the Grand Master.

“That was different. Besides, they wouldn’t ally with you against me.”

“And this is different as well. Now open up; I’ll come in alone. I lose face standing out here like this and I intend to regain it one way or the other. Now open up.”

Jimak hesitated for a moment and then stepped back, nodding to two of his fighters to remove the heavy beam that blocked the door. The Grand Master slipped through and the door slammed shut behind him.

“If I’m not back outside by first bell, this place will be a smoking ruin,” the Grand Master said haughtily.

“Are you that afraid for yourself?”

“I just wanted you to know how things stand. As for fear, I think there’s reason enough for all of us to be afraid right now.”

Jimak motioned for the Grand Master to follow him down the corridor and into his office, closing the door behind them.

“Now what is it?”

“How come you ignored my summons to appear before me?” the Grand Master snapped angrily.

“At midnight? I don’t give a damn if it was the Walker himself who commanded it. I am a House Master and I don’t answer a summons like that from anyone.”

“Well, please excuse me if I didn’t send a sedan chair over along with a phalanx of scantily clad women to throw flowers in your path, but it was urgent.”

“Those types of inducements are meaningless to me,” Jimak replied coldly. “Try them on Varnel-it’d work with him.”

The Grand Master settled into a chair without waiting for Jimak to offer the hospitality.

“Listen to me. We are a balance to each other. I rule this city and this land but my power is balanced not only by the princes of neighboring realms but also by the four Houses of magic fighters. No one of us is truly over the others. I am stronger than any two of you put together and you, if united, are stronger than I. We all know the game and we all play it. You are divided by your mutual rivalries and I insure that those rivalries continue. It is thus because the Eternal created it thus when the world was young and the power of the mana was fresh. But we must live here for our entire lives and the Walker comes but once a year to Festival.”

“Why are you boring me with this lecture?” Jimak interrupted.

“Because I am leading up to something. I fear that there is some new factor at play here, the same as what happened twenty years ago.”

“Oor-tael?” Jimak said quietly.

The Grand Master nodded.

“We destroyed them for their defiance of the wishes of the Walker.”

“He was merely a Grand Master then,” Jimak snapped, “so stop speaking of him in such reverent tones. He wanted to pierce the veil between worlds and frankly I didn’t give a good damn whether he did or didn’t. My tribute of mana was simply to get him out of my life and I’m glad he left. The only problem is that he chose you to be the new Grand Master.”