“Shall we begin?”

Garth extended his hands.

The Walker extended his hands as well and the dark plain upon which they stood was suddenly illuminated with a shimmering light, the green clouds rolling back to reveal a dark red sun overhead that filled half the sky. A golden circle outlined a flat, open field that stretched to the far horizon, which seemed impossibly far away.

“An arena field for our amusement,” the Walker announced.

A red shimmering lit the field and an instant later a demonic horde was deployed, scimitars, tridents, and skull standards raised high. With a keening howl they raced forward.

Garth extended his hands and a living wall was erected before him, momentarily blocking the attack. Move followed countermove. A Lord of the Pit under the Walker’s control emerged out of the ground and Garth, in turn, hurled it back upon the demonic hordes, destroying them, the monster roaring with delight as it rent the creatures and devoured them. A dark force of nature was next brought forth to tear the demon apart. Dragons fought in the sky overhead, doppelgangers stalked each other, hydras battled atop the wall, which came crashing down, and djinn struggled on the ground between the two fighters.

“You are more amusing than most,” the Walker announced. “If I did not have an engagement elsewhere I think I would actually let this play out longer.”

“Then finish it,” Garth taunted. “Or don’t you have the strength? Do it and be damned.”

The Walker raised his hands with an angry curse and stepped forward. Garth staggered backward, pushed by an invisible power that lashed into his soul. He drew forth a rank of bodyguards to take the punishment but within minutes they had collapsed, writhing in agony and dying.

More blows slammed into Garth, draining his strength, and he started to crumple, going down on his knees.

The Walker drew closer and looked down at Garth, who was leaning over, panting for breath.

“Too bad, One-eye. I’ve enjoyed our visit. I sense that your life force is nearly spent.”

Garth looked up at him, his face drawn and pale.

“Go to hell, you bastard.”

The Walker sighed.

“I think I am already there.”

He raised his hand and pointed downward with the final blow.

Garth raised his hand, drawing on the one spell that he had kept hidden until this moment.

The blow of his opponent struck and, for a brief instant, Garth thought that his conjuring had failed and he was falling into the lands of the dead. And then it took hold. All the damage that he had sustained was drawn out of him and he was again whole. At that same moment all that he had suffered slammed into his opponent. With a loud cry the Walker staggered backward, his shadowy form hissing, coiling upon itself and writhing on the ground. Its howls of agony caused Garth to cover his eye lest it be shattered.

Garth was on his feet, racing up to the Walker’s side. The shadow was changing, taking a near-human form. And again Garth used his power to look inward, to sense all that his opponent had.

He found it and, reaching out, snatched the one form of power he had come for and, with it, the mana of his world that controlled it and gave it strength.

The Walker howled in impotent rage, struggling to heal himself even as he slipped away.

With an invisible hand Garth grasped the spell that opened the portal of worlds, that changed reality, twisted the flow of time, and made all things possible. He struggled against the Walker to take as well the mana that bound and controlled the spell.

The Walker started to recover, screaming in rage as that which gave him access to the world of his origin was pulled away from his grasp. Garth struggled and swayed, ignoring the explosive pain to his hands, trying not to feel, not to notice that fire was curling his fingers black.

He felt his hold on the Walker’s spell starting to slip as his foe regained his strength. Reaching inward Garth drew on what little he had left and in that moment his own power and mana were doubled. He wrenched the control of the planes gate away from his opponent and fell backward. The Walker came back up and, howling with a mad demonic rage, raised his hands and pointed.

Damn, now that I’ve got it, how do I use it? Garth wondered, even as the blow hit him.

He felt fire racing over him, a heat as intense as the sun engulfing him. Garth One-eye pulled his strength inward and focused it on the power of the gate. The Walker, screaming hysterically, attacked yet again and Garth felt himself falling away.

“Massacre them all,” Zarel growled, looking down angrily at Uriah. “Any who do not stand with me now are against me.”

“All the Houses?”

“All of them. If we give them time to organize, they might ally with the mob against me. I want this finished. You heard the Walker as well. He said he’ll be back.”

“And what will he say of this massacre?”

Zarel looked coldly at the dwarf.

I won’t be here so it won’t matter, he thought with a grin of satisfaction. With the mana taken and the capture of Kirlen’s books, the path will be open.

“Have our fighters and warriors prepare to sally forth at the midnight bell.”

“Against all four Houses, sire? They still have, even after the desertions and deaths in the arena, well over two hundred and fifty fighters to our two hundred.”

Zarel cursed and looked down at the gold inlay in his floor. Kirlen could not be bribed except with power and, besides, she was the first and most important target. Tulan and Varnel-their hatred evident-could not be swayed. But Jimak, Jimak could always be swayed for the moment and then eliminated later.

“Empty the coffers of gold as a bribe. Send it over to Jimak at once in return for his pledge to stand by my side.”

“And what will you tell the Walker if you destroy them?”

“Tell him, I’ll pile mana taken from the dead around his feet. That will buy him off. When it is finished you can rebuild a new House of your own.”

Uriah nodded and slowly withdrew.

Zarel watched him leave.

“And your turn will come as well,” he whispered.

Zarel turned away from the door, his heart racing.

How much time do I have? he wondered. And still, what is One-eye’s game in all of this? Can it be that all along he was out after Kuthuman and that even now he is struggling to throw him down? If so, then so much the better. Kuthuman will be delayed in his return and I’ll be gone. If it is the other way around, that Kuthuman has been vanquished, then One-eye will be weak and easy to overthrow as well. The first step, however, is to make sure Kirlen is finished and her precious scrolls and books taken.

Kirlen of Bolk sat hunched over upon her throne.

“Have you found Naru?”

The messenger shook his head.

“He’s deserted, along with eleven other fighters.”

She cursed angrily and spit on the throne-room floor.

“Send messengers to the other three Houses. Zarel has subdued the mob for the moment. It is obvious he now plans to move against us as well. We can either stand united at this moment or we will all die separately. I plan to attack at the midnight bell. Tell them to do the same and we can defeat him. Get their assurances that they will do so, and ask them to strike straight for the palace. Now go!”

The messenger ran out of the room.

Kirlen smiled softly.

One-eye had played his part well. The mob had attacked Zarel and he had slaughtered them without mercy so that they were forced to break and flee. But he did not follow up, he could not, for he had to conserve his remaining strength to use against the Houses. Only a fool would think that the Houses would not strike now to cast him down and take his mana for themselves. She knew him well enough to know that he now feared the Houses as a possible counter to him, or worse yet, the Houses would ally with the rabble to bring him down. The balance was broken and could not be restored-too much hatred now brewed on all sides.