“Balls,” she said. “Astrological balls.”

  “Sorry, Sara. When I get close to the end of a world, I feel on edge.”

  Koko guffawed.

  “Seriously, love, if we’re near to home-if your instinct’s right-then we’re depending on your magic to take us there. Your othermagic. But.”

  “But we lost the magic glass in Monopolis. Exactly.”

  “I was going to say: you still have your dagger.”

  “Pardon,” interrupted Koko, “how can you go home when your home was destroyed? You said it was swept off the board.”

  “A new cycle must begin some time,” Sara answered him. “Our own world has been getting ready to revive while we’ve been wandering through other worlds. That’s why I feel close to Chorny and Bellogard. They’re about to begin again. How does a dagger help?” “Let’s see it.”

  She showed Koko.

  “Ha! Haven’t you realized that a dagger is also a compass? A pointer? Look: north, south, east, west. The point is north, the hilt is south. The quillons-the cross-piece-are east and west. A dagger points the true way-usually into someone’s heart. Why not to your heart’s desire?”

  “A compass! Yes, I see.”

  “Will you take me with you?”

  “I thought your big ambition was a ripe belly-laugh, come the end of the world,” I said.

  “I’ll gladly do without, if there’s something better on offer. Is there?” The clown face peered intently at Sara, laughing and weeping.

  “Four of us? We can try, Koko.”

  “Pick-a-back style,” I said, “that’s how. Albertini will ride on your shoulders, love. Koko can mount my back the way I mounted Sir Brant. We’ll hold hands, you and I, Sara. You’ll point the poniard. And magic us away. We hope.”

  Most of the camp dwellers were snoring soundly when the sun rose. Sergeant Hosh and some other soldiers were abroad, looking wearily anticipative. We ourselves presented a curious spectacle; perhaps we ought to have sneaked off into the grasslands.

  Albertini was wreathed around Sara’s neck. She stood pointing her dagger at the dawn sky as if to ward off attack from a randy eagle. I held her left hand. Koko leaned against my back, hunchbacked on splayed stilts, his knees clamped to my waist, his hands around my chest.

  “Good morning!” Hosh hailed us. “Are you all practising to become clowns? Or is it acrobats?”

  “We’re doing the disappearing trick,” said Koko. “Takes a lot of concentration.”

  “Sorry to bother you, I’m sure!”

  “A pleasure to be bothered by you, Sergeant,” I assured Hosh. “Do you know how long it will take the two generals to decide?”

  “The lines are straightened out, so it’s easy to count territory. Not too long.”

  “Hope not,” said Koko. “All this bending’s going to give me backache. Not to mention my poor knees.”

  “You’llhave backache? How about us?”

  Bemused, Sergeant Hosh walked away.

  “Even if we have to stand here all morning we mustn’t break ranks,” I insisted.

  Half an hour had gone by. More people were up and about. Kids especially. They had mobbed us a few minutes ago, clamouring for a performance. Albertini had snarled savagely. I stood sullenly, hoping the brats wouldn’t find some rotten eggs to toss. Now we had another problem.

  “Wanna piss,” Albertini repeated. “Only take halfa minute.”

  “No! Try to hold out.”

  Sara groaned. For one grim moment I thought her migraine had returned. “If necessary,” she said tightly, “if absolutely necessary wet your trousers, and me too.”

  A couldn’t.

  “You will if you have to. We aren’t losing you now.”

  I did wish that Albertini hadn’t drawn my attention to calls of nature. I rapidly traced part of my own discomfort to exactly the same symptom, a burgeoning bladder. Once I had noticed this it became hard to ignore. Oh magic, oh urination.

  Hosh and his men came by again. Before they could accost us they snapped to attention in unison. “Listen!” Sara exclaimed unnecessarily. “Listen in your mind!”

  The very same voice we had heard while we were arriving in this world: General Shiro’s.

  “White surrounds one hundred and fifty-seven cross-points.... Black surrounds one hundred and fifty- three ... White wins! Rejoice!”

  A victory by four points. Hosh bowed to his men; they bowed low to him. They hurrahed. From all over a tide of cheers arose, raggedly at first, soon swelling into a single thunderous voice.

  At that moment the risen sun grew abnormally bright. As bright as midday, brighter. The sun flooded the world with light. So intense was this light that it shone right through tents, right through people’s bodies, dissolving fabric and flesh. Men and women and kids became living skeletons wearing a faint pink fog upon their bones.

  The radiance blazed even brighter, and those bones were mere lines, intersections of lines with white mist clinging to them, as though bones were flesh enclosing other simpler bones inside. The terrible light strengthened; all I could see now were patterns of points where those lines had once met.

  I realized that we were no longer there. “There” was no longer there, either.

  A full house of courtiers had crowded into the Chequer Chamber. The oh-so-familiar Chequer Chamber, overlooking oh-so-familiar Bellogard. With Lake Riboo in the distance. I felt shocked to the core, exhilarated, joyful-and maddened. Sure enough, as Sara had predicted, a new cycle had commenced. Palace, town, kingdom, and people had been recreated-in the mid-stream of things. Down in the town citizens were going about their business, living lives which hadn’t existed five minutes before. Lives with which they were fully familiar. It was late afternoon.

  Wait. Had those houses fronting the river looked quite like that formerly? Had the bridge across the Rehka stood in exactly that position? Maybe, maybe not. If the town was different, it was also the same.

  The court was full of nobles because the magic war with our ancient enemies had only just begun. No one had been killed yet.

  So here were the two princes, Roque and Krasno the Magnificent. I knew their names well. Here were the two bishops, Vax and Meesa. Knights, Sir Jerebet and Sir Brian. Here was vigorous, clever Queen Adama.

  Here was me.

  King Pedino.

  I was King of Bellogard. I kid you not. I’d only just realized. I’d suddenly known where I was; who I was. I was young King Pedino. I had been king for as many years as I could recall. First infant king, then boy king, then stripling king.

  Except, of course, that I hadn’t been anything of the sort! A few minutes earlier, in another world, I’d been watching the victorious White forces dissolve, while I supported a clown on my back.

  King Pedino! Before anybody claps and cheers, please recall how feeble a king is compared to a knight. Or to a prince or a bishop. But especially compared to a queen. A king is a kind of glorified pawn equipped with a crown. A king is the prime target for the enemy. He has to be kept out of harm’s way. He has to be guarded by the real powers of the realm. Protected by his nobles; but especially by his puissant queen.

  Had dotty King Karol been more assertive and effective in his younger days? Before he took to blowing magic bubbles? I couldn’t imagine so. Maybe my predecessor had attempted to assert himself, and failed. Maybe he never had a chance.

  I was married to a mature, powerful queen. I’d been married to her for years. She was older and more experienced than me. As a toddler I’d been betrothed-to a twelve-year-old. As soon as I reached puberty I had wed my consort. It took no great genius to deduce that Adama was a reincarnation of Queen Dama of yore; a reconstruction of her, a facsimile.

  Likewise, in the previous existence, Bishop Vax had been Bishop Veck. Sandy Sir Brian had been Sir Brant. Elegant, snooty Prince Roque had been Prince Ruk. Bishop Meesa had been Bishop Slon. I was also aware, as an abstract fact, that in Chorny lustful Queen Boola and cruel King Martel reigned.

  To date, there were six pawn-squires in Bellogard. Two more had yet to emerge from the general population, just as I had emerged. These six were named Dennis, Pyet. Ben, Peterlin, Irina-and Sara.

  Sara. The same. She, too, was in the Chequer Chamber. I was sneaking cautious glances at her. She, at me.

  Could it be that she had reverted to being a loyal daughter of Chorny? She might be marvelling at the lucky stroke-some act of cunning subversion or of magical possession!-which had planted her here at the heart of the Bellogard court. She might merely be wondering the same thing that I was wondering: namely, did we still know each other? There was no sign of Albertini or Koko, nor did I know anything as to their present whereabouts. I absolutely had to speak to Sara as soon as possible.

  Adama clapped her hands. A tall, athletic, glamorous blonde of some thirty apparent years, she sported a dashing outfit with a hint of the huntress: red jacket over busty silk blouse, tan boots, plaid skirt, diamond coronet. I myself was clad in a purple-trimmed cream blazer with a royal coat of arms as badge, and cavalry-twill trousers, the costume of an amiable chump.

  “We must hold a Jubilation!” proclaimed the queen. “Let the royal banners be run up on all spires. Let bells be rung, and blaziers lit by night. Let the town enjoy two days of carnival. Wine shall spout from the fountains. Organize a gala fete at the Samostan, will you, Bishop Meesa?”

  “Why?” I interrupted.

  “Why?” she echoed with affectionate contempt. “Because today, my loving happy-go-lucky liege, we shall make the first significant move in the war.”

  “Couldn’t we put it off for a few weeks? Where’s the urgency?”

  She indicated the vacant white and black slabs of the chequerboard. “In a short while I shall sing the summoning, then we shall see.”

  “If there are no eidolons on view, Chorny hasn’t made a move.”

  “Ah! You’re beginning to comprehend politics, my lordly salad-lamb! How refreshing, how encouraging.”

  “Excuse me one moment.” I strode over to the group of pawn-squires, all smartly decked out in their brass-buttoned white livery.

  “Sara. Do you remember Koko the Clown? Monopolis? Albertini?” “Yes! Yes!”

  “Do you remember snakes and ladders? Meshko and Groody Lane?”

  “I do! Oh Pedino, do you think we saved Albertini? And Koko? Where can they be?”

  “Capering through Bellogard, perhaps. Let’s hope so.”

  “I’m so glad, Pedino.”

  “Me too, Sara.”

  “My lordly lambkin!” cooed Adama. “We don’t allow His Majesty to consort with pretty young ladies who may give him a pox, now do we? We believe in perfect fidelity in marriage, as an example to the people.”

  Sara flushed-at my humiliation as well as hers.

  I faced the queen. “I’m merely talking to her, madam. I hardly imagine this squire has a pox, unless it’s a magic pox wished on her by jealousy or malice!”

  Adama raised an amused eyebrow; perhaps she wasn’t so amused within. Sara and I may have seemed rather intense, and in public too. But hell, was I supposed to shun her? Not to have anything to do with my magic love? What cruel comedy was this?

  “Malice? Jealousy? You must surely be thinking of Queen Boola. Otherwise it’s as though we two hardly know each other, my pretty Pedino.”

  I knew Adama well enough; and didn’t know her.

  “Come, my kingling. We need to summon the black eidolons to see if any appear. Even if none do, we’d be well advised to advance a pawn-squire.”

  “Aye!” agreed bluff Sir Brian. “A knight can leap over a squire. No one else can do it, except for me and Jerebet. You’re all blocked till squires make their move.”

  “I suspect Squire Sara wishes to advance herself,” said the queen.

  “Oh no,” said I. “Not likely ”

  “My lordnik, do please remember yourself.”

  “I just did, Adama; I remembered myself.” I stepped out on to the empty chequerboard and faced the assembly. “I have an important announcement, my lady, lords, and squires. The whole damn world only began a few minutes ago! Fully fledged! Complete with people, history, memories-like skeletons of antique monsters we find encased in rocks. So: remember yourselves, if you can.”

  A buzz ran through the ranks.

  “Oh dear!” cried Adama. “Our poor king is exhibiting the hereditary misfortune, the malady of mind.

  So young too! I should postpone this council until tomorrow. I need to summon an apothecary.”

  “I’ll arrange it, madam.” Nodding, Sir Jerebet started to take his leave.

  I held up my hand. “Stop! Listen to me! I remember the previous war between Bellogard and Chorny. I lived through it. When that war ended, the world came to an end. I escaped through magic space. I travelled through worlds of foreign magic. I came back here only minutes ago. I suddenly became King Pedino. I was only a squire before. At that very same moment you all sprang back into existence, in time for the next cycle of the eternal war!”

  Squire Irina giggled.

  “This is most unfortunate.” Prince Roque directed a sympathetic glance at the queen.

  “I wasn’t alone in my travels! I journeyed with Squire Sara there. She also escaped.” I hesitated. “She escaped from Chorny...”

  Anxiously Sara spoke up. “It’s true. Here’s the magic dagger we used as our compass. I still have it.” This was an error. As Sara showed her blade it crackled with blue fire.

  “Assassin!” hissed the queen. The two knights made a pincer move towards Sara.

  “I’m no assassin!” Hastily Sara put the weapon away. Sir Brian and Sir Jerebet subsided for the moment.

  “We also picked up two companions en route,” I said. “Citizens of two other magic worlds. One is a clown called Koko. The other looks like a seven-year-old boy but he’s really a lot older. Name of Albertini. They ought to be somewhere in the kingdom. I want a search proclaimed.”

  Adama smiled fleetingly. “Our king seeks a clown to amuse him, and a childish playmate. Note how the imaginary companion is mature, yet only seven years old. What a mirror of King Pedino’s own moods.”

  Bishop Vax cleared his throat. This was a younger version of Veck, his cheek unpatched, unblemished.

  “Madam, I think we ought to listen to the king. It may be the case that the conflict between Bellogard and Chorny has been fought before-won many times, lost many times. Our bibliotek houses many puzzling volumes. I recall raising this subject in the past. A past which may well be a phantom!” Thank goodness for Vax.

  “Do you mean the empty books? Or the miniature ones?” I asked quickly, as a different kind of buzz ran through the room. A buzz of appalled acknowledgement.

  To my amazed delight, Bishop Vax knelt before me. “My liege, this may be the first occasion that information-genuine information-has passed over from a previous cycle of existence. If only you can verify what you say. Substantiate it.”

  “Sara is verification. Also Koko and Albertini, when we can locate them.”

  Vax stood up-limberly; he was still quite a young man. “If Sara was a Chorny squire in a previous war, her eidolon may be black, not white.”

  Adama was showing signs of distress. “How could Chorny have substituted her? Without us realizing? Sara must be a semblance. Someone possessed.”

  “No, madam; with respect. If the king is accurate, Chorny has no hand in this.”

  “Let us see, then! Clear the chequerboard!” This was addressed to me.

  I complied, but said, “Sara hasn’t made a magical move here yet. Not really. She only showed us the dagger.”

  “That’s true,” agreed Meesa. “Let her make a pawn-jump, a brief one out and back again. She could leap to the Samostan-and fetch some documents which I inadvertently left on my desk.”

  “To prove exactly where she went.” Vax nodded to his fellow bishop. “You remember leaving some papers, which will certainly be found on your desk.. .yet those papers had no prior existence. How hard to accept! But I accept. Provisionally.”

  “If I jumped free,” suggested Sara, “I might bump into Albertini. We’ve been through three worlds together. I’m sure I have an instinct for where he is right now. I could bring him back with me.” “Jump free?” Vax protested. “You must conceive your destination clearly, young lady.”

  Sara shook her head. “I’ll concentrate on Albertini. Failing that, I’ll visit Bishop Meesa’s residence.”

  “Why should an ex-Chorny squire be familiar with destinations in Bellogard?” demanded Prince Krasno.

  “Those will be part of the memories she inherited a short while ago,” said Vax.

  “Not entirely,” Sara told him. “During the last war I infiltrated Bellogard secretly to lay the groundwork for an attack. That’s how I met Pedino.”

  “Too much, too much!” Adama wrung her hands.

  “If you can jump free,” said Vax, “then do so. Bring back your witness. At least she’s being honest,” he observed, for the general benefit.

  Sara spoke journey-magic and vanished.

  Within a short time she was back again on a square of the chequerboard. In her arms she clutched a squirming, kicking Albertini. She dumped him unceremoniously.

  “Phew. Found him in Piazza Market. In a scrape. Traders caught him filching fruit.”

  Albertini took in the face above the royal livery. “Why, it’s you!” He leapt up and hugged Sara.

  She patted him. “Hullo there, Albertini.”

  “A word of caution!” I said to the courtiers. “Don’t ever abbreviate his name.”

  Recognizing me, the boy beamed and waved. “Hi, Puddino! Where’s Koko?”

  “Somewhere or other.”

  “Where’s this place?”

  “Royal court of Bellogard, lad. I’m the king.”

  His blithe expression changed to one of consternation.

  “Yer’s wun already? World’s comin’ to an end again?”

  “No, nothing like that. The war’s only beginning.”

  “Is it? Is it?” cried Adama. “Not if we stand around for ever. Clear the chequerboard! I shall sing.”

  Sara hustled Albertini to the side-line as Adama’s voice soared, pitched to summon the eidolons of our enemies.