Plainly in furious pursuit of the elemental, Tu’ala’keth, Yzil, and a dozen of the latter’s guards burst into the suite. “By the Great Ray!” the devitan cried. “I should have suspected you, Shex, but I never guessed.”

  Shex felt a flutter of incipient fear in his belly and struggled to quash the emotion before it could shake his composure. “Suspected me of what, Devitan? I don’t understand what’s happening here, but I know I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “You can’t lie your way out of it,” Yzil said, “not with your familiar groveling before you. I’m pleased to report the waveservant and I exterminated all the others, before they could destroy more of the eggs, but this one escaped and fled to its master for protection. That worked out nicely, for it led us right to you.”

  “This is some sort of misunderstanding,” said Shex. Or, more likely, it was a trick! “I didn’t conjure this elemental or any other.”

  His body riddled with half-healed puncture wounds, Yzil swam closer. “Give it up, Vitan. Everyone understands you had abundant reason to make a covert attack on Exzethlix. You coveted my domain for yourself and believed that if you made me appear incapable of defending it, the Vitanar would award it to you.”

  “I’m glad,” said Shex, “you recall my relationship with His Holiness. As his envoy, I’m untouchable.”

  “In most circumstances, yes.” Yzil glided nearer. “After committing treason of this magnitude, no.”

  “The allegation is absurd. But if you believe otherwise, I demand a trial.”

  “All right, but pay attention, or you’ll miss it. As devitan of Exzethlix, I find you guilty and sentence you to death.”

  “A trial before His Holiness, in Xedras! He’ll punish you if I don’t get it.”

  Yzil laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Do you truly believe the Vitanar cares about you? You’re a pawn, worth protecting, but only to a point. He won’t object to the expeditious execution of a traitor caught committing atrocities. Doing so would tarnish his reputation, and even the great must pay some heed to how their vassals view them. You likely would have discovered that yourself in time, but alas, you’ve run out of it.”

  “Give me a trial by combat! Fight me yourself! Let Ilxendren judge between us.” Under normal circumstances, a vitan could hardly expect to defeat a devitan. But Yzil had just fought a battle and still bore the wounds. Shex was fresh. He reckoned he had a chance.

  Yzil sneered. “I deny you trial by combat. I’ve already judged and sentenced you. But I do mean to fight you, simply for the pleasure of killing you myself. Understand, though, that if, by some extraordinary fluke, you beat me, these others will still destroy you.”

  We’ll see about that, thought Shex. Once he slew Yzil, he’d be the highest-ranking ixitxachitl in the chamber, indeed, possessed of authority equal to that of any vitan in the city. It was possible no one else would prove bold enough to carry out Yzil’s sentence.

  He retreated and started murmuring a prayer. Yzil simply bared his fangs and rushed him. He hoped to end the fight immediately, with one savage assault.

  Shex dodged. Yzil shot past him and started to wheel.

  The vitan glimpsed motion at the periphery of his vision. The elemental was darting at Yzil’s flank, commencing an attack in aid of the ixitxachitl it had inexplicably identified as its master. Shex had a split second to wonder if that was a good thing or not, and Tu’ala’keth lunged, interposing herself between the semitransparent porpoise-thing and its target. The spirit veered off to avoid the tines of her trident.

  Shex reached the final word of his incantation. The water immediately in front of Yzil’s snarling countenance swirled with a dark malignancy. The power was meant to sear his eyes blind, but when the stain came in contact with his body, a bluish light gleamed briefly from his hide. He had charms in place to counter hostile magic, and when he charged, it was obvious he could still see.

  Shex started to evade then realized he was moving precisely as Yzil wanted him to. The devitan was trying to maneuver him into a nook in the coral and trap him.

  Stroking desperately, Shex changed direction and launched himself up and over his onrushing foe. Yzil reacted in time to lash him with his tail. The blow flicked him on his ventral side and should have produced a sting and a welt, no more. But it burned and kept on burning, the pain sinking into his vitals like acid eating away at him.

  Clearly, he’d fallen prey to another spell his adversary had cast beforehand, and he’d just have to block out the torment for now. He had to concentrate on fighting. He snarled the opening line of another prayer, and Yzil whirled around to face him.

  Meanwhile, the water elemental tried ineffectually to get by Tu’ala’keth’s trident, and she declaimed a banishment to return it to its native plane. It was obvious to Shex that the porpoise-thing wasn’t really trying to help him. It and the shalarin were merely putting on a show to substantiate the lie that the creature was his thrall. He wondered if anyone else could tell. Then Yzil charged, and he forgot all about it.

  Shex faked another dodge over the^top then dived beneath the devitan, succeeding in slipping past without even suffering another tail strike. He was clearly more nimble than his adversary. Perhaps Yzil’s wounds were to blame.

  Shex reached the conclusion of his spell. Grayness flowered in the water then clotted into a shark with pale, luminous eyes and jagged black teeth. With a thought, he nudged it at its intended prey, and it instantly surged into motion.

  Now it was Yzil’s turn to evade and retreat before an opponent he was reluctant to face in close combat. But if the demon-shark didn’t get him, Shex would by hammering him with one attack spell after another while he was too hard pressed to retaliate. Even a devitan’s defensive enchantments wouldn’t stop them all.

  Shex sought to afflict Yzil with uncontrollable panic. With a snarl, the devitan resisted the curse. But it froze him in place for an instant, and the demon shark snagged the left edge of his body in its ebon teeth and started to gobble him down.

  Yzil tore himself free but left a substantial portion of his left side behind. Blood billowed from the tattered remnants. Shex cried out in pleasure because no one, not even a devitan, could endure such a hurt and go on fighting.

  Except that Yzil did. He swung himself around and buried his fangs in his attacker’s flank, just behind the gill slits. Evidently as susceptible to the malignant effect of the bite as any mundane creature, the spirit-shark convulsed and kept on thrashing. Yzil sucked at its wounds for a second then rushed Shex, emerging from a cloud of dark, pungent gore and leaving a trail of it behind himself.

  But it didn’t matter. Yzil hadn’t been able to catch Shex when his body was intact, and the ragged, lopsided cripple he’d become obviously wouldn’t swim as well. The vitan stroked almost lazily backward and commenced another spell.

  Yzil said, “Stop.”

  No! thought Shex, and obeyed anyway. He stopped retreating and conjuring both. He strained to resume moving, and his body flailed, breaking free of the enchantment. Then Yzil struck, driving his fangs into his opponent’s spine.

  Ghastly pain ripped through Shex’s entire body. He struggled to pull free and bring his own fangs to bear, just as Yzil had done with the shark. But the devitan wrapped his tail around him, crumpling and binding him together, and gnawed the bite wound deeper. Then he began to drink in earnest.

  Shex’s blood, strength, and will all flowed out of him together, and he dangled quiescent in Yzil’s grip. He noticed his erstwhile supper smirking at the spectacle of his demise and wondered if the idiotic locathah believed it had truly escaped anything, if it imagined the rest of the ixitxachitls would use it more gently.

  Then it became too much effort to wonder that or anything at all.

  ***

  It was morning when a flunky conducted Tu’ala’keth to Yzil’s suite. The coral chambers were large and accordingly luxurious by the standards of a ‘chitl, but to her eye, rather bare of furniture, utensils, and similar amenities.

  Body rippling lazily, Yzil floated among a litter of drifting corpses. A trace of blood, the little he hadn’t consumed, clouded, scented, and flavored the water. When he’d sent Tu’ala’keth away, he’d claimed she wouldn’t be safe in his presence, and beholding the slaughter, she rather believed it.

  “I know it looks like gluttony,” he said, “but I fear the truth is even sadder: I’m getting old, and after an injury like that, it takes a lot of blood to restore me.”

  “You did not have to fight Shex,” she said.

  “No, but it was satisfying and a good way for a devitan to conduct himself now and again. It reminds the underlings why they’re afraid of you.”

  “Are you well now?”

  “Oh, yes.” He curled the edges of his flat body so she could better inspect them. “The scars are impressive and still smart a little, but even those will fade in time.”

  “Have I fulfilled my pledge?”

  “Yes, brilliantly. Shex is gone. It reflects poorly on His Holiness that his emissary was denounced as a traitor, so he’s likely to leave me in peace for a while. Wraxzala won’t dare destroy any more eggs now that we know how she was accomplishing it, and as soon as I contrive an adequate excuse, I’ll rid myself of her as well. Happily, she’s not the Vitanar’s pet, so it shouldn’t be particularly difficult.”

  “Then I assume you are ready to repay me.”

  Yzil curled himself slightly smaller, a gesture conveying embarrassment or apology and surely one to which a ferocious, imperious devitan was unaccustomed. “I truly appreciate your help, waveservant. But you must ask a different boon. I don’t care how much plunder we could take. I won’t send my troops to fight dragons and wizards. Not on land. The risk is unacceptable.”

  “What about the hazards of doing nothing? I explained to you, I have to conquer the wyrms on Tan in order to defeat the dragons running amok here in Seros. If no one stops them, they could ravage Exzethlix.”

  “Or they may go elsewhere. My comrade, we’re both initiate in the ways of blood and chaos. If you say you know these cultists hold a solution to your problems, I believe it. But sometimes the dark powers provide answers to our questions that, while true, don’t really help us because we lack the strength to turn the revelations to practical advantage.”

  “Yesterday, I lacked the strength. Today, I have it. Exzethlix is the sturdy spear in my hand.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “You have always desired the free run of Myth Nantar, to trade in her markets and speak in her councils.”

  The ‘chitl laughed bitterly. “As if the allied peoples would ever tolerate ixitxachitls.”

  “They accept morkoths, who hold as many slaves as your folk. A morkoth even sits on the Council of Twelve. When I destroy the dragon flight and restore the worship of Umberlee, I will become an influential figure in Myth Nantar. I will exert that influence on your behalf.”

  “At which point, His Holiness indicts me for heresy.”

  “Naturally, the matter will require circumspection, but I trust you have not forgotten how to scheme. Nor to gamble.”

  Yzil pursed his lips and sucked at his fangs, pondering. At last he said, “No. Tempting though it is. I’m sorry.”

  “As am I,” said Tu’ala’keth. “I had hoped to do this amiably.”

  The ray glared at her. “Meaning what?”

  “Today, you are the savior of Exzethlix. Such a hero that, for a while, even the Vitanar will hesitate to interfere with you. But your situation would deteriorate quickly if folk found out you deliberately condemned the wrong person for the destruction of the eggs and left the actual culprit swimming free.”

  “I did it that way because you suggested it!”

  She shrugged. “Who will care? You still bear responsibility for your own decisions.”

  “You realize,” he said, “that if I kill a shalarin, a slave creature, here and now, no one will question or care about that either.”

  “Are you entirely healed? As you gorged on blood, did you take the time to replenish the spells you expended last night? Are you positive you’re a better fighter than I am, and that you could strike me dead so efficiently I wouldn’t even be able to escape these apartments and confide my secrets to someone before I expired?”

  He bared his fangs. “There had better be a lot of treasure.”

  CHAPTER 11

  he locathah spread the mouth of the net bag, and the fish swam sluggishly forth. They were already dying, poisoned by the enchantments the spellcasters had poured into their veins, and that was fine. It made them easier to catch.

  Wraxzala kicked forward, converging on the cloud of fish with the other ixitxachitls, and sank her teeth into her share of the bounty. The blood was vile, bitter with power, and she had to clench herself to keep from retching it back up. Pain burned through her guts and blurred her vision then waned.

  Afterward, she didn’t feel any different, and wondered if the magic had truly prepared her for the venture to come. Then she sneered at the very notion, for obviously, nothing could do that.

  She peered back and forth, at the other warriors, ixitxachitl and slave, waiting here in the shallows with the surface of the benighted sea rippling just a few yards above their heads. Yzil-curse him!-had promised the surviving thralls soft treatment, and his fellow ‘chitls, advancement, and some of the stupider folk in each category looked eager to get started. Most, however, appeared so tense and morose, it was plain they shared Wraxzala’s trepidation.

  By the Five Great Deeds of Vengeance, how she wished she’d never threatened the eggs! When Yzil killed His Holiness’s envoy instead of her, she’d believed she’d enjoyed a miraculous escape but now understood the devitan actually had identified her as the guilty party. He’d just opted to punish her in a different fashion.

  But this way at least she had a chance. She was, after all, an ixitxachitl and a vitan, blessed by Ilxendren and superior to all lesser creatures. Logically, that ought to mean she and her allies could defeat them, even under adverse circumstances.

  She resolved to keep telling herself that until she believed it.

  The vitan in charge-she wondered sourly what he’d done to anger Yzil-gave the command, and the company advanced. Soon the seabed sloped high enough that the locathahs, koalinths, and their ilk had to plant their feet and wade with their upper portions sticking up out of the water. At that point, stealth became impossible, and Wraxzala decided she, too, might as well experience the world above the waves. With luck, she might even have a few heartbeats to get used to it before she had to start fighting for her life.

  She swam upward, through the heaving interface between sea and air, and onward. Once she exited the water, the medium supporting her felt thin and insubstantial, yet she didn’t fall. In fact, precisely because it offered less resistance, she had a giddy feeling she might even be able to swim faster above the waves than below.

  She zigzagged awkwardly, seeing how much effort it took and how it felt. Other ixitxachitls rose from the waves to either side. Then, on land, among the dilapidated huts, some creature started yelling. She couldn’t understand the words, but it was obvious what was going on. A sentry had spotted the invaders coming ashore.

  Hulking bipedal shapes with folded wings, serpent heads, and dragging, writhing tails shambled forth from the shacks. Wraxzala had never seen such brutes before, but according to the wretched, meddling waveservant, they were called “dragonkin.” In these first confused moments, the reptiles failed to understand just how many ixitxachitls and thralls had risen from the depths to threaten them. They evidently thought they could make a stand on the beach and push the intruders back.

  The ixitxachitl commander shouted an order. Dozens of locathahs with their goggle-eyed piscine faces, and brawny koalinths with big, scalloped ears and shaggy manes now plastered to their skulls, shouldered and discharged their crossbows. Many of the bolts flew wild. Like Wraxzala herself, the missiles moved differently in air. But some found their marks, and dragonkin fell.

  Most of the surviving reptiles scrambled for cover, from which they would likely seek to harry and slow the advance. The invaders would need to root them out before they could pass in safety, but though they’d pay a toll in blood, they could certainly manage it. The real problem was that two other dragonkin turned, spread their leathery pinions, and flew inland… to fetch reinforcements, without a doubt.

  Though Yzil had been too cagey to say it in so many words, Wraxzala understood that, according to his strategy, that was more or less what was supposed to happen. As she and her companions fought their way up the mountainside, they were supposed to lure the enemy forth to engage them.

  But by the poison tides of the Abyss, please, not yet! If the wyrms and all their minions descended on the invaders before they even established a beachhead, they’d have little trouble wiping them out.

  Wraxzala had absolutely no inclination to imperil herself by chasing the fleeing dragonkin. But unfortunately, only ixitxachitls had any hope of overtaking them, because only they could swim in air. The thralls had partaken of a simpler, less costly enchantment, which merely enabled their gills to function out of water. For they, after all, had legs to provide mobility on land, and their masters had assumed that would prove sufficient.

  “No more shooting!” Wraxzala cried. She waited for other voices to echo the order then charged forward. Several other ‘chitls did the same. At least she wasn’t entirely alone.

  She raced over the ruined village. The rocky ground rose steeply just behind it. Patches of vegetation clung to the lower slopes.

  She still felt clumsy speeding through the air. Every slight flick or tilt of her body achieved too much, and she veered crazily from one overcompensation to the next. But she couldn’t worry about that now.

  She peered, trying to pick out a dragonkin, and spied a rhythmic flicker of mottled wings. Unfortunately, the reptile had a considerable lead, in distance and elevation, too.