The shadow, laughing easily, dodged the fireball.

“If that is all you can start with, this will be boring. Bid my greetings to your father.”

Garth felt a rushing of wind, and the air around him raced inward. He tried to breathe and, doubling over, gasped and started to choke in a green cloud of sulfurous smoke.

Hammen, his arms around Varena’s shoulders, struggled to remove her body while Zarel and all the others were diverted by the presence of the Walker. Varena’s body servant moved feebly, shaking with tears.

“Shut up, girl, and help me,” Hammen snapped.

“Keep your filthy hands off of her,” the girl replied. “Let her rest.”

“Damn it all, girl, I’m trying to save her before the cord of her spirit is severed, now help me.”

The girl looked over at him wide-eyed, unable to move.

“Damn all women,” Hammen whispered under his breath, tempted to simply let the body drop and beat a hasty retreat before it was too late.

He continued, however, to struggle with the body, slowly dragging it away. Though he did not want to, he finally looked up and saw the Walker moving up to stand before Garth.

Damn it, no.

He lowered Varena to the ground and started to stand up. The Walker started to raise his hands.

Torn between loyalties, he finally decided. Taking the amulet and mana that Garth had given him, he placed the amulet upon Varena’s brow. Drawing on the mana he called to her spirit, sensing that none but the slenderest of threads still linked it to her body. The spirit, to his surprise, struggled against him, attempting to break free and break the cord to its mortal form, holding him to his task so that he had to reach outward with all his strength to seize hold of her and pull her, struggling, back into her body.

Varena’s servant gasped with astonishment when a groan escaped from her mistress. A dark cloud suddenly blocked out the sun and Hammen looked up at the swirling storm rising heavenward. He looked over fiercely at the girl.

“Keep the amulet on her forehead!”

Reaching down with a dagger, he cut Varena’s satchel free and stood up, sensing the powers she controlled.

He looked over his shoulder and saw a knot of Orange fighters approaching and motioned for them to take the body.

He stood up and pointed.

“Zarel, you bastard!”

His voice carried across the arena and the mob, which had been watching the ascension of the Walker, stirred and fell silent at Hammen’s challenging cry.

Zarel looked over at Hammen and started to raise his hands.

“You bastard. The games are a hoax! You know, and the House Masters know, that the winner is not taken to be a servant of the Walker. The winner is taken to be murdered by him. And you are his accomplice!”

Screaming with rage, Zarel pointed at Hammen, who with a sneer of contempt drew on Varena’s mana and easily diverted the fire. He raised his hand in turn, knocking Zarel over with a blast of answering fire.

The arena erupted in chaos. From the corner where Garth had stood before the final match Norreen, sword raised high, came charging forward, turning to look back at the mob, urging them on. They came swarming out of the stands like a dark wave. Hammen, cloaking himself in a cloud of green smoke, fell back toward Varena, even as Zarel’s fighters and warriors came swarming out to protect their lord.

Hammen reached Varena’s side and screamed in rage as the Fentesk fighters who had been coming to her aid slowed at the approach of Zarel’s fighters and, turning, fell back. But the mob surged forward and, within seconds, Hammen found himself in the center of a swirling melee. He struggled to hold Varena up so that she would not be trampled under the crush. Someone shouldered him aside and heavy, beefy hands reached out to take the woman. He looked up at Naru, who was grinning.

“I take woman where you want.”

Norreen came through the crush to join them and together they fell back toward one of the access tunnels. As they reached the tunnel, however, Hammen slowed and then looked back.

“Someone’s got to lead these poor bastards,” he said quietly.

“I think, old man, you should think about saving your own hide at the moment,” Norreen said.

Hammen shook his head.

“I did that once before; I’ve lived with it ever since. I guess I’m tired of living.”

He looked back up at the sky.

“Especially now.”

“You crazy man,” Naru said. “I thought you make good servant for me now One-eye gone. But you crazy man.” And the giant laughed.

“Norreen, show this hulk where to take her. I don’t think she’d be safe back at her House anymore.”

“Like hell. I’m fighting and, besides, I can’t stand her.”

“Damn it, Benalian. Just do it. It’s what Garth would have wanted.”

She lowered her head.

“Thanks a lot.”

Hammen smiled.

“Now get out of here.”

The old man turned and waded back into the crowd, his voice rising above the tumult, shouting for members of his old brotherhood to rally to his side.

“Let’s go,” Naru announced, looking down at Norreen and grinning. “Naru lucky. He have two women now.”

Norreen’s sword flicked out, cutting him lightly across the legs so that the giant yelped and stepped back.

“Come on, you ox, let’s find a place for this woman and get back into the fight.”

GARTH STAGGERED THROUGH THE DARK CLOUD, nearly blind, choking on the poisonous air. He again erected a circle of protection, which filtered the poison out, letting thin wisps of breathable air flow into his starving lungs.

Another blow hit him and the circle collapsed.

Cursing, Garth waved his hands over his head, drawing out yet another circle, and again the barrier was erected. He waited, but there was no attack. He probed outward, searching with his senses.

The Walker was there, and yet not. He was struggling, but it was against something else, something dark and powerful. There was time now, and Garth took advantage of it while his foe was diverted by another struggle with something far more dangerous and insidious.

Garth gathered in his strength, and then drew on spells that caused the strength to double and yet double again. He raised his hand, forming a circle before his eye with forefinger and thumb, and the power to look into the spells of his opponent was created.

He was stunned by all that he saw, hundreds of spells, many of them undreamed of, obviously taken in realms and planes of existence unknown to mortals. And yet there was a weakness as well.

The mana, the precious mana that fueled the power of the spells, was weak, spread out and diverted by a myriad of struggles. So it was as he suspected.

All that he had learned in the years of growing and planning was true after all. The fading books, hidden in the place of refuge his father had sent him to, the place where he had studied and learned, had spoken of this. What his father had suspected and written down was true, that the hold the Walkers had upon their powers had a weakness after all.

Garth smiled inwardly and continued to let his strength build.

The struggle between the Walker and the other foe came to an end and again the Walker’s power became focused. He turned back to face Garth.

“I’m sorry for the interruption,” the Planes Walker said, his voice a haunting whisper. “One of my enemies thought it was a convenient time to try and take back what I had seized from him. Of course you’ll understand that such a concern was more important than my sport with you.”

“Of course.”

“Ah, I see you’ve used the time well. Your power is stronger now. Good, good, the challenge is more amusing. Usually, when I bring a winner here they tend to grovel and whine at their fate. You have your father’s blood in you. I like that.