“So why the sudden loyalty to me?” Garth whispered in reply.

Kirlen drew back and laughed.

“You humiliated him. Even now Zarel trembles. Perhaps he fears for his power and his life. For that I thank you.”

Garth bowed low, struggling to keep his balance and to keep his mind focused, for there was more. He could sense there was far more.

“You’re of the House of Oor-tael, aren’t you?”

He looked back up and could feel the power radiating around her, coiling outward, fingers of light probing toward him. He tried to force an inner calm as she reached into him.

He could feel her eyes probing into him and he was startled by the power of it, for she was almost as strong as the Grand Master. He felt a lash of rage as her probing slowed and then finally stopped, unable to reach into the very core.

“You’re strong, One-eye.”

Garth said nothing, not daring to lower his guard.

“I think you are strong enough that if I tried to challenge you to a fight, you could actually harm me.”

Again he was silent. Her thoughts withdrew and he struggled not to sag down from exhaustion and drunkenness. He realized now that Naru’s actions were at her behest, to keep him awake after all that had happened and break him down with drink and simple exhaustion.

He looked at her and smiled.

“I can be of use to you,” he said softly.

“I should kill you now.”

“You know the mob is behind me. The Grand Master might hold power as a holder of mana but not even that power can control half a million who will be sitting in the arena come tomorrow. I am of Brown as well and that power reflects upon you. That can be of use to you.”

She smiled, her lips trembling.

“And suppose you are of Turquoise? You would have reason enough for vengeance upon me given what I just told you.”

“If I wanted such vengeance, I could do it now.” He flicked a finger toward the bookcases.

A startled cry escaped her and she started to bring her hand up.

“I would be a fool to burn them, for then we would fight here and now,” Garth said, lowering his hand and looking back at her.

She looked back nervously at her books and then again at Garth.

“You have the knowledge hidden within your books. But your path now is through the Grand Master because it is he who has amassed the mana and I suspect will soon have enough to try himself to become a Walker. Kill him and you could succeed to his throne and take all that is hidden within his vaults.

“That is your next step. Do that and the Walker does not care who rules here, only that they are loyal to him and serve his needs.”

“He would know what I desire.”

“Don’t you think he knows what Zarel desires as well, what all of us desire?”

She said nothing.

“Power, immortality, and eternal youth, which only being a Walker can bring. Kill Zarel at the end of Festival and you will have a year to prepare before the Walker returns once again. I dare say that within that year you could gather enough mana to do as you please.”

“How?”

“Zarel did it for his Master.”

Kirlen chuckled darkly.

“You’re goading me not only into killing Zarel, but the other House Masters as well.”

Garth smiled and said nothing.

“Why do you desire to help me?”

“Perhaps you could grant a one-eye immortality as well when the time came.”

“Perhaps I would not need a scarred face when that time came.”

“I’m willing to gamble on that. At the very least there would be room for advancement, perhaps as a House Master or Grand Master myself.”

Kirlen chuckled.

“Revenge and power. I think I might like you after all, One-eye.”

She turned and looked back at the fire.

“You’ve given me nothing all that new. I’ve thought it before. If that is all you have to offer, your usefulness is at and end.”

“I can help you. I could trigger the mob to bring about the Grand Master’s death.”

Kirlen smiled.

“And suppose you win the tournament. You would be gone, to go as a servant to the Walker in other realms. Then what?”

“Do I really want to win?”

“All fighters do.”

“Then why haven’t you done so and thus gained the path in that manner?”

Kirlen laughed coldly.

“I prefer to go in my own right and not as a servant,” she finally said softly.

“If I win, I win and will take the glory. But even in the process of doing that I can manipulate the mob to your favor and perhaps trigger the results you desire. Because that is the final part of the problem. The power of the mana is strong, but when half a million of the city turn against you, even a Grand Master might be overwhelmed. To have the mob on your side is worth the power of a hundred fighters. And if I don’t win, I will still be here to serve you.”

“Of course you will,” Kirlen said with a smile.

“Master.”

Garth opened his eyes with the greatest reluctance. It took several seconds to realize that the room was not actually spinning. The sight of Hammen looking down at him finished it, especially when the old man’s breath washed over him. He half crawled out of bed and staggered to the privy room, ignoring Hammen’s coarse laughter as he knelt over the hole to offer up his last meal to the god of excessive drink.

Cursing and spitting, he came back into the room.

“I’ve laid out a change of clothes, oh exalted Master,” Hammen announced. “I’d suggest burning what you’re wearing now.”

“Shut up.”

“Such gratitude.”

Garth looked at him, bleary-eyed.

“How come you’re not hung over?”

“More years’ experience and, besides, I had the good sense to pass out before you. I must say old Naru is even more impressed with you now.”

“How is he?”

“Down in the steam room soaking it out, where I’d suggest that you head now. Festival ceremonies start at noon and you want to be ready for it.”

Garth stripped down and followed Hammen down to the lower level steam room and went into the swirling mist, finding a wooden bench in the corner. He looked around and, in the shadows, saw Naru stretched out on a bench, snoring loudly.

Hammen came in a minute later with a birch switch.

“Get out of here with that,” Garth snarled.

“Shut up and take it like a man,” Hammen replied as he set to his task with what Garth suspected was a little too much enthusiasm for his work.

“Naru’s really not such a bad fellow,” Hammen said, nodding to the giant, who stirred, groaned, and then rolled over. “We had a long talk this morning. If you could call it talking.”

“And?”

“Kirlen wants you dead.”

“Did he say that?”

“No, but you could read between the lines, as they say. Kirlen ordered him to drink you under the table.”

“I sort of figured that out.”

“She also told him to challenge you then.”

“So why didn’t he?”

“He passed out first. I think you’re presenting old Naru with a real moral dilemma. He’s forgotten about the kick; his brain can’t hold more than one thought at a time. He just remembers the return of his satchel.”

“So if he won’t do it, there must be someone else.”

“Naru’s their best fighter and has been for years. I think she has it figured that you can take anyone else, and besides, she wants it done quietly and to make it look legitimate, a fair grudge match. But it won’t happen until the last day of Festival.”

Garth grunted a reply as Hammen struck him a bit too hard across the lower back with the birch switch.

“Once more like that and I’ll take the damn switch to you.”

“Got to beat the poison out,” Hammen said cheerfully.

“What’s the advantage of killing me then?”

“When, at the end of Festival? Trigger a riot, the Grand Master loses face in front of the Walker, and she eliminates him.”