Without the armor, Gobal was unable to control the electricity that gave him his power. He became a much smaller, broken figure draped in rivulets of melted metal, a figure that grew ever smaller as jags of lightning leaped off his body and dissipated.

Kamahl picked up his sword and stood ready as the justicar collapsed into a ball of flaming debris. Except for a charred pair of footprints and a few droplets of steaming metal, there was no evidence he had ever existed.

"Bravo, barbarian!" Kamahl looked up and saw Chainer politely clapping. Kamahl touched the tip of his sword to his forehead, a gesture of recognition.

Then he pointed at Chainer and drew the tip across his throat, beckoning the dementist down with a wave of his hand.

Chainer laughed with delight at the shows both above and below his platform. On his level, the battle of angel versus angel prevented any other flying things from soaring too high. On the ground, Kamahl had just revenged himself on the justicar, and all of the other contestants were either killing each other to get at the Mirari, or killing each other to escape from the pit. He had planned it carefully, but he hadn't planned it anywhere near as well as it was happening.

One of the Order angels broke free of its nightmare twin and tried once more to reach Chainer's platform. He waited until it was almost on top of him and then threw one of his anaconda people into her face. The snake wrapped its twelve-foot-long body around the angel's wings and torso and sank its venomless fangs into her sword arm. The angel cursed the snake, and both creatures fell out of sight.

"What are you staring at?" Chainer yelled at the dark angel who no longer had an opponent. "Fight!" The angel bared her sharp teeth and hissed, but she complied. She slammed her mace into the unprotected shoulder of one of the Order angels then followed the wounded creature to the floor as she fell, striking as often as time and gravity permitted.

Chainer was starting to see why the First treated everyone like children. There wasn't a single Cabalist left who could think and act for himself. He took one last look at the carnage on the floor and suddenly became bored. Why was he offering the Mirari when he already had the Mirari? No one but he could use it. It was a cruel waste of time to even offer the illusion of obtaining it.

Chainer flipped the control switch that would bring the platform down. It was time to end this charade, clear the building, and start from scratch. New Cabal City would be twice as grand as the original, and there would be no Order to interfere with the Cabal's business.

As the platform descended, Chainer hoped that Laquatus was putting his borrowed dementia monsters to good use. Once he had settled with the Order, Chainer vowed that the Mer empire woulc become nothing more than a subsidiary of the Cabal. He may have sworn an oath with Laquatus, but it was Laquatus who taught him that oaths could be broken.

Llawan's bridge was in chaos. Cephalid sailors and imperial guardsmen swarmed around the ship while her advisors counseled her to escape while she still could. She cleared the room of all but the command crew and Olsham, then she turned to the captain. "Take us into the battlefield." "But Empress- " the captain stammered.

"Do as we command. We will not allow our most loyal subjects to be killed by phantoms." She turned back down to the mirror clasped in her forelimb. "Silence! You have broken our bargain, Cabalist. We have a personal guarantee from the First!" she screeched. "There was to be no interference!"

"The First has gone south to Aphetto," said a young man with black braids and a void in his eyes. "Who are you again?"

"We are the Empress Llawan, rightful heir to the throne of Mer." "Never heard of you. Sorry." "We demand to speak to your patriarch." The young man paused. He seemed amused. "Who's we?" If the braided man had been in the room, the look on Llawan's face alone would have struck him dead with fear. "What is your name, Cabalist?"

"My name is Chainer, and if you don't leave me alone I'm going to change my mind. And then you'll be sorry." The connection broke, and the mirror went dark.

Llawan lowered die mirror. "The man is mad." She turned to Olsham. "Have you any ideas, mystic? Can this endeavor end well for Llawan?"

Olsham closed his eyes and bent his limbs into a complex sigil. "There is always a chance, Empress. But in this case, chance is not enough."

Laquatus sipped at a fine white wine as he watched the destruction of Llawan's hopes for the throne. With Chainer's monsters, his forces outnumbered Llawan's four-to-one, and he had major sea serpents and an orcan behemoth still in reserve.

Burke stood at Laquatus's side, silent and subservient. Laquatus was sorry to miss Chainer's Mirari Games, but he knew the treasure would keep. Someday soon, he would sit in the First's luxury box, watch Burke tear the competition limb from limb, and finally lay claim to the prize. Laquatus smiled. That is, he would do these things if the foolish boy Chainer hadn 't destroyed himself and all of Cabal City by now. Laquatus truly hoped that Chainer was still alive, so he could watch his own creation steal the Cabal's greatest treasure for the glory of Mer.

"Ambassador." One of his mercenary chiefs stood in the doorway to Laquatus's chamber. "Emperor," Laquatus corrected him. He sipped his wine. "We are forcing Llawan's guard away from the mouth of the chasm. We should have room to bring out the behemoth shortly." "Excellent. Keep me informed." "There is one other thing, Amb… Emperor." "Yes?"

"Llawan's command ship has left the edge of the battle." Laquatus rose and struggled to keep his voice calm. "She is abandoning the field?" He had expected more of a fight before she accepted defeat.

"No, Emperor. She is joining the battle."

"That cannot be. She would never…" Laquatus stopped as the chief pointed to the scrying screen. It clearly showed a host of Cabal serpents battling a host of Llawan's cephalids. It also showed Llawan's yacht and the obvious positive impact it had on her troops' morale.

"Why, that reckless, soft-skulled witch," he said, amused. This was even better than he had dreamed. Defeating Llawan's army would earn him the throne, but killing Llawan in the process would ensure that his reign lasted for the rest of his naturally long life.

"Take us farther into the chasm," he said. "Oh, and Veza? I heard you trying to contact that psychic octopus. I'm very disappointed." He turned to one of his mercenaries. "Kill her." The mercenary drew his knife and advanced on Veza.

She had been waiting for this, fully aware that Laquatus would have detected her pleas to Olshatn. Veza was not a warrior, but she trusted her own speed and strength when compared to that of a surface dweller. The man's knife flashed, and Veza stunned him with a sharp blow across the face. Blood flowed, but the mercenary did not fall. Laquatus and the rest of the bridge crew laughed. "You're fired," Laquatus called to the bleeding mercenary, and the man growled in anger. He drew his sword.

Veza didn't wait for Laquatus to order more mercenaries into the fight. She ran from the room and hit the flooded corridor in a running dive. The laughter stopped, and Veza heard more bodies break the surface of the corridor as the mercenaries pursued. She pressed on, confident that no human being, no matter how well enhanced, could swim faster than a mermaid.

She had been in and out of the ship numerous times, and she knew she could make it at least as far as the edge of the chasm. Better to die randomly in the battle as a subject of the empire than as a coward on a traitor's command vessel.