"No one but the Guardians have ever heard it, or were ever meant to," Nysander replied solemnly.

"While still a young man, the second Guardian had a dream vision which has been passed down from one Guardian to another ever since as our greatest source of hope. "The Dream of Hyradin" is this:

"And so came the Beautiful One, the

Eater of Death, to strip the bones of the world.

First clothed in Man's flesh it came, crowned with a dread helm of great darkness.

And none could stand against this One but a company of sacred number.

"First shall be the Guardian, a vessel of light in the darkness.

Then the Shaft and the Vanguard, who shall fail and yet not fail if the Guide, the Unseen One, goes forth."

"This same prophecy names the Pillar of the Sky, and speaks of a temple there."

"That gives us about as much to go on as your rock dream," Micum grumbled.

But Seregil felt a sickening chill pass through him, recalling the visions he had experienced when in contact with those pieces—the scenes of death and choruses of agony. "Then everything Mardus has done since Alec and I ran into him up in Wolde—the disk, Rythel and the sewer plot, the attack on you—it's all leading to him bringing all the pieces together again?"

"Of course, and bringing them together at the correct time and place. The time is during a solar eclipse five days from now."

"We'd guessed that already, after talking to your astrologer friend," said Seregil.

"Well done. Now that the three of us are together again, we must find the temple and see where the gods lead us from there. This time the Helm must be destroyed completely, and to accomplish that we must allow it to be reassembled—"

"What?"

Seregil sputtered.

"It is the only way we can be certain that every fragment is accounted for," Nysander went on.

"Arkoniel himself believed it was the only possible course of action and I believe he was right. If the knowledge passed down from Reynes i Maril is correct, then it takes a certain amount of time for the power of the Helm to gather itself, and more time for it to increase to its full potential. Therefore, once it has been reassembled we will have some brief moment of opportunity to strike. As the Guardian, I charge you both by your life and honor to strike whatever blow necessary to destroy the power of the Helm. Will you swear to that?"

"You have my oath on it." Micum extended his hand.

Nysander took it and they looked to Seregil.

He hesitated, still toying with the beach stone, as an inexplicable ripple of misgiving went through him.

"Seregil?" Nysander raised an eyebrow at him.

Shrugging off his apprehension, Seregil tossed the stone aside and covered their hands with his own. "You have my word—"

As soon as his hands touched theirs, a sharp stab of pain lanced through his chest like an arrow shaft. Gasping, he pressed a hand over the scar.

Pushing Seregil's hand aside, Micum opened his coat and gently pulled the bandage off. "You're bleeding again," he said, showing Seregil and Nysander fresh blood on the linen dressing.

"It's nothing," Seregil rasped. "It must have broken open when I moved."

"Look there!" Nysander exclaimed, pointing up at the night sky.

A distant streak of red fire had appeared against the white band of stars to the east.

"Rendel's Spear!" Micum exclaimed.

They gazed up at the comet for a moment in silence, then Nysander said softly, "The necromancers call it by a different name."

"Oh? What?"

"Met 'ar Seriami," the wizard replied. "The Arm of Seriamaius."

43

"Met 'ar Seriami!"

Framed against the last light of sunset as he stood on the forward battle platform, Mardus swept a hand toward the fiery scintilla just visible above the eastern horizon. A victorious cheer went up from his men.

The throng assembled on the nearby shore echoed the cry, waving torches and shooting flaming arrows into the air over the cove. Drums throbbed out in the darkness.

Even before being brought on deck, Alec was uneasily aware of changes in the ship's routine.

First, Mardus had foregone their walk that morning.

Then the guards had brought Alec a long tunic, the first clothing he'd had since his capture. As the interminable day wore on, he felt the motion of the ship change and guessed that they were nearing the

Plenimaran coast. He was proven correct that evening. When he and There were finally brought on deck, the Kormados was riding at anchor off a desolate shore.

Desolate, but not uninhabited. There was an encampment of some sort, and he could see black uniformed men hailing the ship excitedly.

On board, Alec sensed an air of expectation.

Everyone seemed to be watching the eastern horizon as the sun set. Finally, the comet appeared with the stars, a red point of light clearly visible below the waxing moon, and the great shout went up.

Standing under guard on deck, Alec leaned closer to Thero and whispered, "Look there. A plague star! Do you see it?"

"Plague star for you, maybe!" Captain Tildus scoffed disdainfully. "For us great sign. Lord Mardus and voron had say there should be such sign tonight."

"What did Mardus say just now—'Mederseri'?" Alec asked.

"Met "ar Seriami. " Tildus searched for the words in Skalan to explain. "It is 'The Arm of Seriami." A very great sign, I tell you before."

"Seriami? What I call Seriamaius?" A vague sense of dread gripped Alec as Tildus nodded. "Aura Elustri mal—"

"Shut that," Tildus growled, seizing Alec roughly by the arm. "Your madness gods don't be here. Seriami eat hearts of the false ones."

No other prisoners remained. Alec and Thero had been given proper clothing before being brought on deck, and their hands were bound securely behind their backs.

Thero moved like a sleepwalker, obeying simple commands, moving when ordered. Otherwise he remained motionless, his expression betraying nothing of what thoughts, if any, were going on within. The seamless iron bands on his wrists glinted softly in the torchlight as he moved, the unreadable characters incised into their burnished surfaces lined black with shadow.

That's the secret, Alec thought, convinced that these, rather than the branks, were the source of their enemies' control over Thero. If he could get those off somehow—

There was considerable activity on deck. Irtuk Beshar and the other necromancers stood together at the base of the platform, talking quietly among themselves as their traveling trunks were brought up from below and stacked by the rail.

Captain Tildus and a few of his men went ashore in a longboat, returning quickly with some news. Although Alec couldn't understand what they were saying, it was clear that Mardus was pleased with Tildus' report. When they'd finished, the captain shouted out a command and the sailors hurried to ready the rest of the ship's longboats for departure.

Mardus crossed the deck to where Alec and Thero still stood with their guards. "We'll be continuing our journey by land from here," he told Alec. "Thero is suitably restrained and I expect no difficulty from him. You, however, are another matter." He paused, and the scar beneath his left eye deepened as he smiled.

"You've already proved yourself a slippery customer and once ashore you will no doubt be tempted to escape. I promise you, it would be a futile effort, and the consequences would be extremely unpleasant, but not fatal."

"More unpleasant than having my chest hacked open with an ax?" Alec muttered, glaring up at him.

"Immeasurably so." Mardus' eyes were depthless as the night sky, and as enigmatic.

Turning on his heel, he strode away to oversee his men.