Arena 13 #2 the Prey
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Arena 13 #2 THE PREY I was still angry, but I said nothing more. I realized that we’d taken an important step towards defeating Hob. We had a lac patterned to a higher level than Tyron could achieve. He could learn from it.‘I heard you muttering at its shoulder. So tell me the wurdes to activate and de-activate the higher combat abilities of this lac.’‘It’s just the usual “Awake” and “Sleep”, but each time followed by its name, Thrym,’ I told him.‘So she’s given it a name!’ Tyron exclaimed in as...tonishment.Lacs were considered to be no better than animals, so I could understand his surprise. Giving lac a name somehow made it more human, even though it wasn’t fully sentient.‘Now, let’s see what this Thrym is made of!’ Tyron continued. ‘You can both stay. Watch and listen, if you’ve a mind to, but I fear you’ll learn little, Leif. You’ll struggle too, Deinon. This will take me far beyondwhat I know. Later, after I’ve interrogated the lac, I’ll examine the written wurdes.’Thus Tyron began to interrogate Thrym using the wurde-tool called Newt. Deinon watched and listened. After a while I left them to it. So engrossed were they that neither noticed me leave.Tyron was persistent, a clever man who didn’t give up easily. No doubt in time he would tease out a significant amount of new knowledge.But events moved even more quickly than any of us could have guessed.AN EVENING WITH TALLUSA single deceit is like the first step of a child;To maintain balance, others must follow.The Genthai Book of WisdomThe following morning Kwin called at Tyron’s house on her way to work in the admin building. After talking to her father, she came across and joined us at the table.‘You’re invited to a party tomorrow night,’ she told us with a grin. ‘Tallus wants to meet you.’‘Both of us?’ asked Deinon.‘Yes, both of you. Want to come?’I raised my eyebrows at Deinon, and he smiled and nodded. ‘A party you say? Definitely! Who else will be there?’‘Well, not my father – he certainly isn’t invited. But he’s happy enough for us to go, as long as we keep our ears open and report back to him what’s said while we’re there. Tallus and Ada will be there, but we are theonly guests. Ada just wants you to meet Tallus.’‘You say it’s a party . . .’ Deinon said. ‘Is it some sort of celebration?’‘I think things are going well for him, and he and Ada are really happy together. That’s all. He’s always been a bit of a loner,’ Kwin continued. ‘He doesn’t mix much with anybody – certainly not the othercombatants. I think the party is Ada’s idea, to be truthful. She thinks he should engage with other people more. He’s starting to feel more comfortable in my presence, so now it’s time to introduce him to my two bestfriends.’‘We’re your best friends?’ Deinon asked, raising his eyebrows.‘Of course you are!’ Kwin grinned. ‘You’re the brains and Leif is the brawn! If only I could merge you together into one being, you’d be the perfect man!’I smiled – I knew she was only joking; she liked to tease. But did she really think that I was just muscle without a brain? Did she think I was stupid? Well, I mused, it was foolish to feel hurt. But although my brainwas certain that Kwin didn’t mean anything by it, my heart was unsure.‘Why doesn’t she invite Tyron?’ I asked, attempting to put those dark thoughts away by changing the subject.‘There’s no chance of that!’ said Kwin. ‘Tallus is very suspicious of my father – he’s a rival. Don’t go on about patterning, or he’ll think you’re trying to pump Ada for information.’It was a warm evening, and as the sun set, the three of us walked across the city to Tallus’s quarters at the Wheel. Deinon and I were in our best shirts and trousers, and Kwin wore a pale purple dress that fitted her bodylike a glove. It was hard not to stare. Once she caught me at it, but smiled rather than looking angry.We were welcomed inside by Ada and Tallus. Kwin made the introductions. Tallus shook our hands and Ada gave us a brief hug.The room had changed since last I’d seen it and no longer looked like a workshop. There was no sign of the lac – I guessed it was in the wagon – and the table was covered with a blue cloth. The chairs had beenpushed back against the wall to create a space in the middle of the room, no doubt so that we had room to stand and chat while we ate. On the table there was a bottle of red wine, fruit juice and what looked likelemonade, along with sausage rolls, spicy dips and iced cakes, and we didn’t need much encouragement to start eating.Close up, Tallus looked taller than he did in the arena. Although stocky, he no longer appeared overweight. The regime of exercise that Ada put him through was finally paying off.He had pale blue eyes and sandy hair, and I could see why Ada found him attractive. At first she did most of the talking. He was clearly shy and didn’t make eye-contact or initiate any conversation beyond basicpleasantries.Deinon and I kept to fruit juice, but after a second glass of red wine Tallus started to relax.‘For many years Tal’s ambition has been to fight in Arena 13,’ Ada said, pausing to take a sip of her wine. ‘He started at the lower arenas, entering lacs he’d patterned himself. To fund that, he was a hunter. Isn’t thatright, Tal?’‘What did you hunt?’ I asked.‘I was really more of a trapper than a hunter,’ he said, meeting my gaze. ‘I had a stockade down south. I trapped deer and wolves and a few bears. I sold the pelts in Mypocine, and most of the meat – any that I didn’tkeep for my own use – to the Genthai. You’re part Genthai, aren’t you, Leif? Ever visited their domain in the forest?’I nodded and smiled. ‘I went there for the first time last winter.’‘Well, they were good to me and paid me well. I had a small hut out in the forest, and they extended it for me and built a stockade around it. Strangely they wanted paying in currency. As most of the tribe never goanywhere near the city, I wondered why. But I got the feeling that it was best not to ask too many questions.’I wondered if they’d used some of Tal’s money to buy the gramagandar. Only the Trader could have supplied such weapons.‘Was it creepy all alone in the forest?’ Kwin asked.‘It certainly was at times. Sometimes I found it difficult to sleep. I heard wolves howling out there amongst the trees. But I felt better once I had the protection of the stockade. I saw some strange things too . . .’ Tallusdidn’t finish his sentence and suddenly seemed deep in thought.It was Deinon who prompted him. ‘What sort of things?’‘Well, you’re going to think this is crazy, but one day I came across some decomposing bodies in the forest. They were pretty far gone – little more than skeletons. Most seemed to be the remains of wolves, but onewas really odd. From the neck downwards it was without doubt human, but the head was all wrong. It was the skull of a wolf – I’m sure of it.’‘Do you think it was one creature?’ Deinon asked. ‘I mean, could it have been somebody’s idea of a joke? You know – to replace the original human skull with a wolf one?’‘That’s what I tried to tell myself,’ Tallus said. ‘But the remains were whole and the skull was still attached to the neck.’‘That sounds weird,’ Kwin said. ‘If I’d found something like that, I’d have packed up and run straight back to the city.’‘I did think about it,’ said Tallus with a smile. ‘But I needed all the money I could get. It’s taken me years to get together enough to fight in the arena.’‘Well, enough talk of dead bodies and weird stuff,’ Ada interrupted. ‘This is supposed to be a party, isn’t it? Come on, Tal, play us a tune!’Tallus immediately went to the back of the room and returned carrying a small scuffed leather case. He sat down, put it on his knee and opened it to reveal its contents. I saw that it was a violin.Not many violins were made any more. Playing them was almost a lost art. ‘That looks really old,’ I commented. ‘I bet that set you back a few pelts.’‘It was my father’s,’ he said, his expression suddenly sad. ‘He inherited it from his own father. He taught me to play it and left it to me when he died.’Tallus put down the case, raised the violin to his shoulder and slowly drew the bow across the strings. Then he began to play.It was a sad tune, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Ada grimace before putting her hand on his shoulder.‘This is a party, Tal. We need happy music. We need music to dance to!’He smiled and began to play something much faster, a lively tune to set your feet tapping.Suddenly Kwin grabbed Deinon and put her arms around him. ‘You’ve got the brains, but have you got the rhythm?’ she asked. ‘Show me what you can do!’‘I can’t dance!’ he exclaimed, his face suddenly turning bright red.‘Then now’s your chance to learn!’ she said.I was smiling at Deinon’s embarrassment when Ada grabbed me. ‘Don’t tell me that you can’t dance, Leif. Anyone who moves well with a lac can dance. That’s what the Trig is – a kind of fluent, complex dance. Thisis much simpler!’With that, she seized my left hand and put her arm around my waist and began to guide me backwards and forwards in time to the music. ‘You can put your other arm around me, Leif. I won’t break,’ she scolded.I did as I was told, and soon got the hang of it; within moments we were spinning round as well. As the male partner, I should have been guiding Ada – that was the way people usually danced. But by touch andgesture she was dictating our movements; I was like her lac. But I enjoyed it. After all, she knew what she was doing and I didn’t.With a laugh, she brought me to a halt and whispered in my ear, her breath warm. ‘Now we’ll swap partners,’ she said. ‘I know you’re dying to dance with Kwin!’The music paused while we changed partners.‘Tal! Play us that piece by Paganini,’ Ada called out.‘Who’s Paganini?’ I asked.‘He was a violinist and composer – one of the ancients,’ she replied. ‘He was so brilliant and original that some believed he’d struck a deal with the devil. Tal’s going to play my favourite piece.’Now I had my right arm around Kwin and my heart started beating even faster. She felt warm and I could smell the scent of lavender. Tallus began to play again, the tempo faster than ever. The music was wild; it hada frantic, hypnotic quality, and I soon began to lose myself in the sound and the rhythm. All I was aware of was the music, the patterns our feet rapped upon the floor, the warmth and closeness of Kwin’s body and thefact that we were moving almost as one.At last the music ended and Ada began to fill four glasses with what I’d thought was lemonade. It turned out to be a sparkling white wine. While Ada poured, Kwin leaned against me, our arms still around each other’swaists. Was I imagining it, or was she actually pulling me close?But then we broke apart to take our glasses.‘A toast is needed, Tal!’ Ada commanded.Tallus smiled. He looked really happy, especially when Ada gave him a peck on the cheek and put her arm round him. He raised his glass and made the toast. ‘To the joy of life!’ he called out enthusiastically. ‘To thejoy of living! To the happiness of us all, and a long and successful future!’We sipped the wine and it tasted delicious.It was a great party.All good things come to an end, and after we’d taken our leave of Tallus and Kwin, Ada walked Deinon and me out into the cinder space behind the Wheel. The air had cooled, and without a coat I began to shiver.‘Thanks for coming tonight,’ Ada said, giving us both a hug. ‘It was a great evening – just what Tal needed.’‘I enjoyed it. Thanks,’ I replied.‘Me too,’ added Deinon.‘Oh, and I wanted to thank you for working out those sequences of wurdes for Deinon,’ I told her with a smile. ‘It was great to beat Palm.’Ada slowly shook her head, and out of the corner of my eye I watched Deinon’s face redden for the second time that night.‘I think it’s Deinon here you should thank,’ Ada said with a frown. ‘Tal made me promise not to work for anyone else, but because you were in trouble and it was Kwin who asked me, I made an exception. ButDeinon wrote the code. All I did was answer a few questions when he got stuck. We had the usual dialogue between a student and a teacher – like lessons. Deinon is without doubt the best pupil I’ve ever had, and that’ssaying something; I taught some brilliant people back in my former life, but I’ve never had a student like this boy.’ She put her arm round Deinon’s shoulders.Later, as we climbed the hill back to Tyron’s house, I mulled over what I’d just been told. Why couldn’t Deinon have been open with me? Kwin too had kept the truth from me. I felt excluded, yet at the same timethey’d ended my terrible sequence of defeats.‘Thanks for patterning that lac, Deinon. I really owe you for that. But why didn’t you tell me that it was your work? Why go to all that trouble of writing down and reading out your wurdes while pretending they wereAda’s?’‘I’m to blame for that, and I’m sorry,’ Deinon said. ‘But you know what Kwin’s like. She saw the cuts on your arms, had a row with Tyron – and quickly worked out that this was a scheme to get his hands on patternscreated by Ada. Kwin was angry and didn’t want to give him that, so she worked out an alternative. I would write the patterns, and Ada would only offer suggestions when I needed help.’‘So Tyron still doesn’t know the truth?’‘Kwin told me to keep my mouth shut – that he need never know. And the longer I go without telling him, the harder it will be. I don’t like deceiving people.’How could I complain? I was keeping a secret too, I thought: Deinon and Kwin didn’t know that Math was my father.‘You got really high praise there from Ada. Does Tyron know you’re that good?’‘I think he’s starting to realize,’ Deinon said.‘You might be better than he is one day!’Deinon smiled at that and shook his head, but I wondered if he was already better at patterning than Tyron. After all, Tyron had struggled to understand what Deinon had done; he’d been sure that it was Ada’s work.THE FATE OF TALLUSGrudge match rules apply, but for one:There is no clemency.Arena 13 Rules of Combat(Special Rules for when Hob Challenges)Tyron was keen to see Tallus’s lac in action again, knowing that it would be patterned to a much higher level than ours. Tallus’s next contest was scheduled third on the Lists on the Wednesday evening, so Deinon and Iaccompanied Tyron to the arena, eager to see what Tallus and his lac could do.The gallery was full of chattering, excited spectators. The women were there in force, filling almost a third of the two thousand seats. They were dressed in their silk finery, faces rouged and powdered, lips painted thefashionable black. I noticed a lot of young women and wondered how many of them were there to watch Palm, who was fighting first that night.Tyron was putting him into the arena a lot – much more than was usual for fighters of his young age and limited experience.We sat down in the front row. Ada and Kwin, just a dozen seats away to our right, called out greetings, and we waved back. Once more they had both painted only their top lip black, the lower one the rich red ofarterial blood.In the aisles the gambling house touts were doing a roaring trade; as usual, quite a few red tickets were being sold. But soon the huge candelabrum with its thirteen torches began to descend, the first warning thatthings were about to get underway, and everyone settled down to watch.With a rumble the two doors opened, the smaller min and the larger mag, and the two combatants and their armoured lacs emerged and quickly took up their positions. Palm was to fight a min combatant calledMarcos, who had three years of experience in Arena 13 and was slowly working his way up the rankings.I knew that Tyron wasn’t too bothered whether Palm won or lost. He just wanted him to gain experience. I was jealous because Tyron wouldn’t risk allowing me to fight.There were a few shrieks, and the girls began calling out Palm’s name. He smiled and waved up at them. His leather jerkin bore the silver wolf emblem that showed he fought from Tyron’s stable. His fit, muscularbody looked good in it, and he knew it.There was no sign of the scratches and dents that Thrym had inflicted on the armour of his tri-glad. It looked as shiny and fresh as if it had come straight from the forge. No doubt Palm’s wealthy father had paid tohave it repaired.However, there were two fresh scars on Palm’s left arm and one on his right; the cuts inflicted by Thrym after each of our victories. But I had my own scars – and more of them – to remind me of the bouts I’d lost.Out of sight, a deep bass drum began to beat with a slow, steady rhythm, and the tall figure of Pyncheon, the Chief Marshal, dressed in black and wearing a red sash, moved between the combatants. He was carryinghis long silver ceremonial trumpet. He raised his hand and the drum ceased; silence fell over the noisy spectators.‘Let the proceedings begin!’ he boomed in his pompous voice before strutting back towards the mag door. As he reached it, he raised the trumpet to his lips and blew a high shrill note, then disappeared from view.With a deep rumble, both doors closed and the contest got underway.Palm was a cautious fighter and liked to play safe. After our private bouts, I knew his tactics quite well. He had a repertoire of about eleven moves, mostly defensive, and at times he became quite predictable.However, such knowledge wasn’t enough to guarantee victory. His lacs were patterned to a very high level, their movements smooth and fast. If the lone lac defending a min combatant got anywhere near one, its throat-socket was vulnerable.So it proved now. The contest lasted only four minutes. Marcos’s lone lac got too close, and a blade called endoff, making it collapse on the floor.The initial polite applause was drowned out by shrieks and whoops as Palm’s fans showed their delight at his victory. Marcos received the ritual cut to his arm, and then the arena was cleared.‘A bit pedestrian, but Palm did well enough,’ Tyron said, leaning towards Deinon and me. ‘That performance might not please the aficionados, but the boy’s young; once his confidence grows, they’ll see what he iscapable of.’It was then that the torches in the arena suddenly flickered. The air turned icy cold, and suddenly we were all plunged into darkness. My heart lurched. Almost immediately the torches flared back into life, and screamsfilled the gallery, echoing back from the high ceiling – no longer cries of enthusiastic appreciation, but shrieks of terror.Once again the torches flickered and died. When their flames returned, I saw that the aisles were full of terrified people seeking to escape.Hob had arrived at the Wheel.After five minutes the gallery was almost clear; only combatants and their kin and the aficionados remained. I found it difficult to understand why so many spectators fled the gallery when Hob appeared. After all, theywere in no danger.I’d asked Tyron, and he explained that some people had such an ingrained dread of Hob that they couldn’t bear to be anywhere near him. Some believed that he chose victims to target in the future from amongst thespectators – though there was no evidence of this.Tyron hadn’t said a word. His face was grim and he was drumming his fingers on the arm of his seat, clearly agitated.Down in the green room, Pyncheon would be presenting the lottery orb to the min combatants. Whoever drew the short straw would have to fight Hob. Fighting from the mag, Palm was in no danger, but I knew thatTyron had other min combatants scheduled to fight tonight. I remembered the terrible night when Hob had slain Kern.Hob and his tri-glad, clad in ebony-black armour, entered the arena first. I stared at him angrily, my throat constricted so that I found it difficult to breathe. He was clad in regulation jerkin and shorts, and wore hisusual bronze helmet, with a wide black slit to look through. His arms were similar to a lac’s – significantly longer than those of a human. His head was tilted upwards; he seemed to be staring into the gallery.No wonder people believed that he selected victims here! Was he staring at me? I wondered.As Hob’s opponent entered from the min door, directly beneath us, I heard Tyron suck in his breath with relief. Looking down, I saw that the combatant didn’t have the silver wolf logo on his back.But I’d been staring at the jerkin without really seeing what was embossed there. Now I took it in and drew in my own breath sharply.TAL.I looked to my right and saw Ada’s wide staring eyes, and Kwin talking to her animatedly.Surely the lottery was fixed. Here was a man fighting with a lac crafted by a brilliant twice-born patterner about whom the whole city was buzzing. It was almost as if Hob had come to test himself against Ada’s talent.‘Now we’ll see just how good she is!’ Tyron exclaimed, as if reading my thoughts.‘It’s not fair! It’s too early,’ I replied angrily. ‘Tallus hasn’t had time to train properly.’I’d only met the man once, but I’d immediately taken to him. Ada cared about him, and now his life was on the line. Apart from my father, every combatant who’d faced Hob in Arena 13 had died there or been takenaway, wounded, never to be seen again. Was this to be the fate of Tallus?Pyncheon entered the arena only briefly, nodding to the combatants; then the doors rumbled shut, and lacs and combatants took up their positions. Tallus looked scared. He was very pale and there were beads of sweaton his forehead.To my surprise, Tyron pulled a small sand-timer from his pocket and positioned it on the arm of his seat. He’d used it occasionally during training as an alternative to the brass device, but I’d never seen him use it tocheck the timing of a contest in the arena.It consisted of two small glass orbs connected by a metal tube. The sand was funnelled down from the top into the bottom orb. Once the last grain had fallen, five minutes had passed. It was very accurate, far betterthan a clock-candle, and as good as the cumbersome mechanical wall-clock that Pyncheon would be using now to time the bout.The contest began very suddenly: Tallus’s lac attacked with great speed, driving Hob’s tri-glad backwards. As they clashed, Tyron tapped the top of his timer to start the flow of sand. So fast was the attack that Tallusonly just managed to keep up. He hadn’t used Ulum, so the lac had surged forward of its own volition, its patterns sensing the opportunity to put Hob on the back foot. Ada had claimed that it wasn’t sentient, but it didseem to have some initiative.It was a very good start. Could Tallus actually defeat Hob? I wondered.But Hob soon rallied, and his tri-glad fought its way to the centre of the arena. There was the constant rasp of metal on metal, and twice it sounded as if a blade had struck close to a throat-socket, though it was hard tobe sure which lac had dealt the blow.Up in the gallery there was absolute silence. The remaining spectators were enthralled, and sat holding their breath.‘Who’s winning?’ Deinon asked.‘It’s very even, boy,’ Tyron replied, glancing at his sand-timer. ‘It’s on a knife edge and could go either way. That lac is as good as anything Gunter ever patterned, and that’s saying something.’Gunter had patterned the lac that enabled my father to defeat Hob fifteen times. It wasn’t for nothing that they’d called him Gunter the Great.Then something astonishing happened. One of Hob’s lacs went down. Almost too fast to see, a blade penetrated its throat-socket to call endoff. With a roar, the spectators rose to their feet. My heart lurched withexcitement and hope, but I didn’t jump to my feet, and neither did Deinon. That was because Tyron was still staring at the timer.The upper glass bulb was already half empty.THE MOTHER OF A DJINNIA shatek is the mother of a djinni.The midwife is a Nym artificer.The Manual of NymThe downed lac was lying close to the far wall, so it didn’t obstruct the fighting, which raged close to the middle of the arena. The action was fast – very fast – and once again I heard the rasp of blades striking armour.Tyron was staring at his timer as if that was more important than what was taking place in the arena.He caught my eye. ‘He has to finish it now!’ he said. ‘Once that first five-minute stage is over, he has no hope of winning.’I understood exactly what he was saying. Tallus had improved his fitness, but it would still be nowhere near that of the average human combatant. Already his lungs and heart would be straining; his musclesprotesting. Dancing behind a lac demanded supreme fitness.And after five minutes the situation would get even worse: a gong would sound, and then Tallus would have to fight in front of his lac. That was why Tyron kept glancing at his sand-timer. During this stage of thebout, the long arms of his lac would have to reach over Tallus’s shoulders to defend him; he’d need to dance very close to it. I doubted that he would have developed sufficient skills to do this properly. There hadn’t beentime. He would be vulnerable to the blades of Hob and his two remaining lacs.Yes, he had to finish it now, I thought.But the gong had already sounded.Tyron cursed under his breath.The combatants repositioned themselves. Gripping his blades so tightly that his knuckles were white, Tallus stepped in front of his lac.Hob crouched before his two remaining lacs and flexed his knees. His eyes glittered behind the slit in his helmet. I noticed again how long his arms were. But for the bronze helmet he could have been a lac himself.Right from the start it went badly for Tallus. Now his lack of skill was evident. He had two left feet, and they betrayed him again and again. What was worse, he was clearly impeding his own lac. He kept stumbling,preventing it from moving forward smoothly. It could no longer attack, and was hard pressed to deflect the blades that sought his flesh.Suddenly Tallus tripped, this time completely off balance. He’d taken a tumble in his first contest, when the audience had laughed and jeered. This time the spectators remained silent or groaned softly. He fell backagainst his lac so that it was unable to wield its blade.Hob came in fast, his two remaining lacs almost at his side. With its left hand, Tallus’s lac thrust its blade into the throat-socket of its nearest attacker, calling endoff. But its right blade was blocked, and Hob stabbedforward, and suddenly the contest was over. Tallus’s lac collapsed.I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.Tallus was on all fours, desperately struggling to rise.Before he could do so, Hob chopped down viciously, cutting clean through his neck.Then he picked up Tallus’s head by the hair and held it aloft, showing it to the spectators. As the blood trickled from the stump and ran down Hob’s arm, there were groans and cries from the audience. I could smellthe blood – and hear the screams of anguish from Ada. She was trying to throw herself over the rail into the arena; Kwin was holding her back.Tyron pushed his way through to help: he seized Ada’s other arm. She was struggling to free herself, and her face was twisted in torment.Hob seemed to be looking directly up at her.Then the marshals appeared; three of them managed to get Ada into the central aisle and escort her up to the doors at the rear. She had stopped screaming, but sobs racked her body and tears streamed down her face.‘Kwin! Go with her. Make sure that she’s taken care of properly!’ Tyron called.Kwin nodded and climbed the stairs towards the doors.Marshals were entering the gallery in force now, ushering the spectators towards the exit. When I glanced back into the arena, I saw that Hob was still holding the severed head, but he seemed to be staring down atTallus’s lac.*Three hours later a tearful Kwin brought news of Ada.We came rushing downstairs when we heard her arrive. Teena had her arm around her and was trying to comfort her, but Kwin’s face was red and tears were flowing from her swollen eyes. She kept trying to speakbut couldn’t get the words out.Only when Tyron, drawn by the disturbance, came into the room did she calm down enough to speak.‘It was horrible . . . Ada kept screaming that it was her fault. She was hysterical. She fought like a fury, but then they sedated her and put her to bed.’‘Where was she taken?’ Tyron demanded.‘To the small hospital within the Wheel.’‘Did Hob take Tallus’s remains?’ he asked.Sobbing, Kwin shook her head.‘Well, at least that’s something,’ he said, without adding further comment.I knew that he was thinking about Kern and what Hob had done with his head – and what the tassels had done to his body. At least Tallus had been spared that.‘They say that he took Tallus’s lac though,’ Kwin added.Tyron nodded thoughtfully. No doubt Hob had taken it to learn what he could. That lac had downed two of his. If Tallus hadn’t stumbled backwards and impeded it, Hob would surely have been defeated.The following day, soon after dawn, Tyron took me with him to the office of Pyncheon, the Chief Marshal.‘I can’t believe the lottery chose Tallus,’ I observed as we strode through the deserted streets at Tyron’s usual furious pace. After a visit from Hob there were few people about. The city would be quiet for days.‘It had to be somebody, boy,’ Tyron said, ‘but I don’t trust the process one bit. Hob culls the rising stars of Arena 13; kills them early before they become a real threat.’‘So the lottery is rigged? Then Pyncheon must be involved. Is that why we’re going to see him?’‘I’d be a fool to confront him over that,’ growled Tyron. ‘No doubt he’s in Hob’s pocket, but there’s nothing I can do about it. No, we’re going there to buy Ada.’Was she still a slave? I wondered. That didn’t seem fair.‘Isn’t she free now that Tallus is dead?’Tyron shook his head and then glanced down at me and frowned. ‘Take that disapproving look off your face, boy!’ he ordered. ‘The woman’s status doesn’t change just because her first master’s dead. There is a deedof ownership, which is very valuable in this case. She has almost two years still to serve, and can be bought by the highest bidder. If I don’t buy her, then someone else will. That’s a fact of life, so don’t get on yourmoral high horse!’We walked on in silence. The sky was clear and it would be another warm day. High above the great block of the slaughterhouse, the vultures were already circling.The interview with Pyncheon did not go as Tyron had expected. He made his offer, and then slid a sealed envelope – as custom required – across the polished surface of the large desk.The Chief Marshal simply pushed it back with a shake of his head. ‘Tallus married the woman three days ago,’ he said, placing a large piece of paper before Tyron. There was a smaller piece fastened to it.Tyron picked it up and began to read.‘As you’ll note,’ continued Pyncheon, ‘clipped to the marriage certificate is a cancelled deed of ownership. It’s all perfectly valid – it was sworn in private before a commissioner for oaths. So the woman is free.’Tyron’s face fell, but there was nothing he could do about it. Ada was a widow, not a slave. No wonder she’d reacted so violently. She’d married Tallus just days before his death.I was saddened by the news. To have been married for so short a time and then have your husband snatched away in so brutal a manner – it was tragic. But at the same time I was happy that Ada had her freedom.Then a third piece of paper with a black border was handed to Tyron. It was the combined death and cremation certificate.‘The body was burned an hour ago,’ Pyncheon said.Tyron nodded but made no comment.The interview was over.The following day, at breakfast, Kwin arrived with a message from Ada. Her face was still full of grief. She didn’t even glance at me but went directly to her father.‘Are you all right, girl?’ Tyron said, coming to his feet.‘I was with Ada when she first woke up. It was bad, really bad. It brought back all the memories from last year when Teena lost Kern.’Tyron hugged her, and she leaned against him, her shoulders shuddering. ‘It’s not right,’ she sobbed. ‘It’s not fair. Somebody has to put a stop to this.’He patted her back but didn’t reply. She pulled away from him and straightened up, her eyes flashing with defiance. ‘Ada wants to speak to you, Father. Could you go to the hospital this morning?’‘Of course I will. I’ll go right away.’Then Kwin looked directly at me. ‘She would like Leif and Deinon to come with you.’Tyron frowned. ‘Did she say why?’She shook her head. ‘She doesn’t say much. But she’s angry, and I don’t blame her. I think she has some sort of plan . . .’‘A plan? A plan for what?’‘A plan to deal with Hob. A plan to sort him out once and for all!’Tyron shook his head, clearly exasperated. ‘Did you know that they were married?’ he demanded angrily.‘No. They were married in a private ceremony one morning. I work in your office then, don’t I? So don’t blame me!’ she snapped back.He patted his daughter’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry for doubting you, girl. It’s just that things are moving so fast I can’t keep up.’We left immediately. The hospital room was small; apart from the bed the only other furniture was a table beside it. On it were the documents we’d last seen in Pyncheon’s office.Ada was sitting upright with three pillows behind her back, her hands folded across her belly; she was wearing a simple white nightdress buttoned to the neck. There were dark shadows under her eyes and her lips,devoid of paint, were as pale as the rest of her face. Her black hair had grown and had been trimmed into the urchin style often chosen by mothers for their young sons.We stood beside her bed. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Tyron said.Ada nodded and stared down at her folded hands in silence. Suddenly she looked up at him. ‘I need to speak to the Trader,’ she said. ‘I need something from him.’‘He’s due in eight days’ time,’ Tyron said. ‘I’ll fix up an appointment for you. We could travel together by barge, if you like.’‘No,’ Ada said, shaking her head. ‘We will travel together, but not by barge. If I visit him with the others, it will be common knowledge. What I want must be a secret – especially from Hob.’‘So you plan to act against Hob in some way?’ Tyron asked.‘Yes.’There was a silence while they stared at each other.I wondered what she planned to do. I was also impatient to find out why she had wanted Deinon and me to visit her.‘If you want my help, woman, I need to know more than that,’ Tyron said gruffly.‘I will do what I must – with or without your help,’ she answered, her eyes flashing with defiance. ‘But if I get what I need from the Trader – then I will tell you what you wish to know. You wish to learn more aboutNym? Then I will be your teacher. Is that what you want?’Tyron’s eyes shone with eagerness and he nodded.‘Then it’s settled. So can we meet the Trader in secret? Is there a way?’Tyron scratched his head then gave a sigh. ‘It might be possible. There is a way to summon him. He arrives after dark on the eve of the appointed date for his visit, laying up at anchor out of sight. There’s a greatbronze plate suspended by chains close to the tower by the Sea Gate. Beat that gong, and he will come ashore – though nobody has done so in living memory.’Ada leaned across and picked up a document from the table, throwing it angrily onto the bed. I noted the black border. It was Tallus’s death and cremation certificate.‘They burned Tal’s body and scattered the ashes while I was still unconscious,’ she cried, tears springing from her eyes. ‘Couldn’t they have waited for me? It was cruel.’‘I’m sorry for your grief and pain, but no cruelty was intended,’ Tyron said in a kindly voice. ‘Unfortunately, that’s the custom. If someone dies at Hob’s hands in Arena 13, the body is burned as soon as possible. Hehas been known to come back for the remains he doesn’t take with him; he’s capable of doing terrible things to his victims. He retrieves and preserves souls in order to torture them. The bodies are usually eaten by hisfollowers. In this city we do not bury people lest the tassels eat the dead flesh. Speedy cremation is the norm. It’s meant for the best.’Ada did not speak for a while, and a heavy silence fell over the room.‘Did you want to speak to Leif and Deinon?’ Tyron said, nodding across the bed towards us. ‘You asked to see them.’‘Yes. I want them both to come with us to the Sea Gate and to witness what I do. Deinon has great potential as a coder and will benefit from the experience.’Deinon’s face lit up and he beamed at Ada.‘As for Leif,’ she continued, ‘in time I would have him fight with my lac in Arena 13. Would you do that, Leif?’I gasped. It would be a dream come true. I would be fighting with a lac capable of defeating Hob. Revenge would finally be within my grasp.However, I looked at my master. ‘I’m being trained by Tyron,’ I explained. ‘Whether or not I fight behind your lac, I still belong to his stable. It would be his decision.’Tyron looked at Ada rather than me. ‘May I ask the reason for that choice? You’ve never seen him in action. Leif’s just a novice,’ he told her.‘Compared to him, those I’ve seen fighting in the arena are like slow old men. They belong to the past. He is young, fast and very hungry. He is the future. I’ve seen your daughter move, and she says Leif is herequal.’‘So with the help of something you hope to buy from the Trader, you intend to defeat Hob in the arena?’‘Correct.’‘I don’t wish to be cruel, but your skills couldn’t save Tallus. It was a close contest, but your lac wasn’t good enough to win. Tallus had neither the experience nor the skill to fight to the fore of that lac. The contestshould have been won in the first five minutes: you should have ensured that.’‘Your words are cruel, but I accept what you say,’ Ada said. ‘I underestimated Hob and didn’t anticipate Tal having to fight him so soon. Poor Tal was an eager novice. He tripped and fell. I shouldn’t have allowedhim to fight so soon.’‘Why should I put my trainee at risk? He’s a novice too.’‘My skills are adequate, but in this fallen world I’m denied what I need – as are all who pattern here. I believe the Trader will be able to provide what is missing. Even if you had it, your knowledge of Nym is not goodenough to enable you to use it properly. Help me, and you will see how it is done.’‘The Trader may demand a high price for what you want. If necessary, I’ll lend you the money,’ Tyron offered.‘I may well take you up on that offer. Tal has left me a little money, but it may be insufficient.’‘Will we buy wurdes of Nym – the special primitives necessary to build sentience?’ Tyron asked.‘That’s no longer necessary – I’ve already developed my own primitives – but there is one further thing that I cannot create. It is a creature called a shatek.’‘What’s that?’ Tyron demanded, voicing the question on all our lips.‘A shatek is the mother of a djinni,’ Ada replied, ‘and I will be the midwife.’‘Then what about the father?’‘Thrym will be the father, but he will also be the son. He will be twice-born, as I am. He will be sentient. In partnership, he and Leif will slay Hob over and over again until his final self is dead. Before that djinni dieshis final death, he will wish he had never been created.’THE WARSHIP OF A WARRIORThe Trader does not come bearing gifts.Cross his palm with silver.Even better, offer gold.Amabramsum: the Genthai Book of WisdomSoon after dark on the eve of the Trader’s midsummer visit to the Sea Gate, Tyron drove a wagon hauled by eight oxen towards the western edge of the city. Inside, strapped to a jig – a wooden frame with bindings at theankles, wrists and throat, the usual procedure for transporting lacs – lay Thrym, in the deep sleep.I was wide awake and sitting on the front seat between Tyron and Deinon. Ada and Kwin were immediately behind us.It was an unusually warm, humid night, and I could hear faint rumbles of thunder in the distance.I looked forward to our arrival at the Sea Gate with mounting excitement. What did a shatek look like? I wondered. Soon I was going to find out.I’d assumed we would follow the course of the canal – the most direct route to our destination – but we veered away from it. When I mentioned this, Tyron just said, ‘It’s too dangerous. We might be seen.’So we took a winding route through the edge of the forest that probably doubled the length of our journey. Soon it began to rain, the wind buffeting the wagon with increasing fury, thunder rumbling in the west. Asummer storm was building.At last the canal came into view once more. We had reached the Terminus on the cliff above the Sea Gate, and now began our descent through the woods on foot, having tethered the oxen and sealed the wagon againstthe driving rain.As we approached the tower, a glimmer of yellow light spilled out from its highest window. Were we being spied upon?‘I thought the tower was deserted,’ I said to Tyron.‘The Keeper watches over the Sea Gate. I don’t think he’ll approve of what we’re about to do.’Tyron led us across to the bronze gong suspended between two stone pillars. It was about six feet in diameter and over a foot thick. Leaning against one pillar was a long-shafted hammer, its heavy head covered withthick leather.Tyron bent down and gripped the shaft. But Ada came to his side and shouted something into his ear, which was lost beneath a crack of thunder. Then, with a shrug and a grimace, he stepped back; now she seized thehammer.For a moment it seemed that it would be too heavy for her, but I could see the anger and determination on her face. In a paroxysm of rage, she swung it up to shoulder height and spun her whole body round so that itshead made sudden contact with the gong. She grasped it tightly, striking the gong again and again.That summons boomed out across the choppy water, and before the seventh strike the door of the tower burst open and the Keeper of the Gate ran over to stay Ada’s hand. But Tyron intervened, pulling him to oneside.On the thirteenth stroke, lightning forked above the harbour and the gong’s boom was answered by a clap of thunder.Ada laid down the hammer and stood there in the lashing rain. The Keeper pushed past Tyron, gesticulating and shouting at her, but she simply ignored him, knelt on the wet ground, buried her face in her hands andwept.Kwin knelt by her side and put her arm round her shoulders.Deinon looked scared, and my heart was pounding in my chest. Something momentous was happening here.Then Tyron cried out, ‘Look, Ada! The Trader’s here!’Lit by another fork of lightning, a dark ship was surging towards us between the narrow arms of the outer harbour, its black sails billowing in the gale. And upon its prow was a carved white wolf, so huge and life-likethat it seemed to bound before the ship. Its tongue lolled from its mouth and its fangs were bared, its eyes blazing with fury as it leaped towards its unseen prey.I had a sudden moment of insight. This was not the vessel of a Trader. It was the warship of a warrior.The Keeper was pointing towards the tower, and we followed him through the narrow doorway and stood inside, shivering as water dripped from our clothes onto the stone flags. A single torch flickered on the far wallabove a long oaken table; twelve chairs were positioned along the sides and a thirteenth at its head.The man disappeared into another room and returned carrying towels, which he offered to us. Gratefully we wiped the rain from our faces. I saw that he was an old man with grey stubble on his chin and a gaunt face,but he had kind eyes. He pointed towards the table, gesturing that we should sit down.We nodded and took a seat, but nobody spoke. When he left the room, I sat there in a daze, listening to the rain battering against the stones. The Keeper had left the door ajar, and it swept into the room, forming a largepuddle, which glistened yellow in the torchlight.He returned with a tray of steaming metal tankards, which he placed upon the table. ‘Drink,’ he commanded. ‘It will drive out the chill.’I lifted the tankard to my lips and sipped the liquid cautiously. It contained hot caudle – a sweet and spicy gruel which slid down my throat to warm my stomach. I sipped again and felt new strength spreading throughmy body.Suddenly I heard heavy footsteps on the flags, and a giant of a man dressed in chain mail from head to foot stood framed in the doorway; he wore a silver mask, and luxuriant red hair spilled down almost to hisshoulders.The Keeper went across and bowed low, and I heard him whispering quietly. Then he returned to the table and pulled out the chair at its head. For the first time I noticed that this was larger than the others; on its backwas carved the head of a snarling wolf.Unbidden, we came to our feet and bowed to the stranger. Although he was dressed as a warrior, with silver chain mail and a long dagger sheathed at his belt, his hair and size told me that this was the same man wehad met in the tent close to this very spot.He bowed graciously in return and motioned for us to sit, before taking his own seat. I looked at the eye-slits in the mask, and saw the flicker of the eyes behind. There was no opening for his mouth.The Keeper bowed to each of us and left the room. When he’d gone, the Trader spoke. The deep voice was somewhat muffled by the mask, but his words were clear.‘For what reason have I been summoned?’ he demanded.‘I loved a man and now he is dead,’ Ada said simply. ‘And I cannot find peace until the thing that murdered him is also dead.’‘Name this murderer!’‘The creature is a djinni called Hob,’ Ada continued. ‘He slew my husband in the arena.’‘Then what do you wish from me?’‘A shatek,’ she said, glancing towards Tyron. ‘I will pay the required price.’Tyron nodded. ‘I’ll be her guarantor. I am prepared to advance the money,’ he said.‘Do you know what it is that you contemplate?’ the Trader asked, turning towards Ada and resting his huge mailed fists on the table.‘Do you know who I am?’ Ada countered, an edge of anger in her voice. ‘Do you know me?’The Trader nodded. ‘I should, for I brought you to this place and awoke you from the sleep that is akin to death, thus making you twice-born. Once, long ago, you were the High Adept of Nym, foremost amongst thosein the Imperial Academy, and amongst your colleagues you had no equal. But now you are but a lone woman in a fallen land. The forces that oppose you are far more strange and terrible than you realize.’‘The shatek? Is one available?’ Ada asked, becoming impatient.‘Yes, it’s available. I can supply what you demand now. But my payment can wait.’‘I will pay you in full,’ she insisted.The Trader nodded. ‘One year from this very night I will be at anchor in the harbour. If you still live, bring to me what is owed.’Ada nodded and he rose to his feet. Throughout this interchange Kwin, Deinon and I had remained silent. Even Tyron had spoken only one sentence.With Ada in the lead, we followed the Trader out into the darkness. The storm had abated, leaving behind a warm drizzle as insubstantial as mist. We waited on the quayside while the Trader boarded his ship and wentdown into the darkness of the hold.It was some time before he emerged. When he did so, he was no longer alone. Behind him, four squat figures laboured to manoeuvre something up onto the deck; it was a cylinder of dull metal, big enough toaccommodate a large human body.They hefted it to waist height, supporting it on straps around their shoulders. When they clambered up onto the quay with their heavy load, I saw that they were not human; their naked bodies were covered with a hideof dark hair that glistened in the fine drizzle. Although a head shorter than me, they were much broader and stockier.Their heads were not human either: they had flat snouts and fangs that curved downwards over their bottom lips – though their eyes flashed with intelligence. They watched us with sideways glances even as they wentabout their business, and I sensed their threat. I saw Kwin’s eyes widen in fear and heard Deinon gasp. I was glad that the Trader was standing between us and them, directing their movements with quick hand signals.‘What are those creatures?’ Kwin asked Ada.‘They are called rasire,’ she replied. ‘They are a type of low-level singleton, brutal and debased, often used by djinn as beasts of burden to fetch and carry. But they are very strong, and are sometimes used in battle.However, they need strict discipline or they will turn on their master.’As the creatures climbed the hill towards the wagon their bodies began to steam in the rain.I heard the oxen snort in fear at their approach, but the four creatures had soon secured the cylinder aboard our wagon, moving back into the trees to begin their descent towards the Sea Gate.We turned to take our leave of the Trader.‘Other than your title of Trader, do you have a name?’ Ada asked him.‘I have many names,’ he replied. ‘But some call me Lupus.’‘Then I thank you, Lupus,’ she said with a warm smile. ‘Thanks for what you’ve supplied. You’ll be paid in full. I always keep my word.’He bowed, and as he did so, the red mane of hair fell forward over the silver mask. Then, without another word, he turned and followed his rasire.‘What now?’ Tyron demanded.‘We take the shatek to Tal’s stockade,’ Ada replied. ‘Then I will begin my work.’‘Where is this place?’‘It’s in the forest on the edge of the Genthai lands to the south-east. He took me there once.’‘You say you only visited it once. Are you sure you’ll be able to find the way?’‘The same skills I use when observing and developing patterns also enable me to recall routes. Don’t you worry, I’ll find it. I’ll sit beside you and be your guide.’We headed along a rutted track that ran roughly south. After a couple of hours we halted to get some rest. Tyron insisted that Ada and Kwin should sleep inside the wagon. It meant sharing with Thrym and the shatek.But Thrym was in the deep sleep and the shatek was still within its container. They’d certainly be more comfortable than us.We were to use the wooden seats. It would have been more comfortable on the ground, but it had only just stopped raining and it was saturated.Before we settled down on our blankets, Tyron beckoned to Deinon and me. He led us some distance away into the trees, well out of earshot of Ada and Kwin. Coming to a halt, he turned and faced us. His face was indarkness, but the tone of his voice told me that he was angry. It was directed at me.‘Don’t build up your hopes of fighting behind that lac, Leif. I don’t care how good it proves to be. You’re still a novice. I’m just playing along with Ada for now, until I find out what I need. Understand?’‘But what if it’s so good that even a novice could dance behind it and win?’ I protested, the words flying out of my mouth. ‘And don’t we want to defeat Hob in the arena? Don’t we want to defeat him over and overagain until we can attack him in his citadel? You said that Hob might come after me if I fought in Arena 13. Well, isn’t that exactly what we want? I could be the lure that draws him to his destruction. Wasn’t that yourplan?’‘It was a plan that you were supposed to keep secret, but I suppose it doesn’t matter if Deinon knows,’ Tyron said, patting him on the shoulder. ‘But remember, we’re here to learn from Ada – you especially, Deinon.This is a golden chance and we’ve got to take it.’Then, without another word, he headed back towards the wagon and we followed him.I spent an uncomfortable night but I had plenty to think about. I was impressed by what I’d seen of Ada. She had stood up to the Trader, while we were nervous in his presence. Back when humans ruled the world, shereally had been important. She was talented and she believed in herself. Hob had threatened me and, even worse, threatened anyone I might show affection for. He had to be dealt with, and quickly. This was our chanceto do exactly that, and far sooner than I’d expected.Despite what Tyron had said, I was looking forward to fighting with a lac patterned by Ada. I really wanted it to happen.I was a lot nearer to getting my revenge.THE SHATEKCreation is a messy business.Amabramsum: the Genthai Book of WisdomIt was almost almost a week before we finally reached the stockade. The rough track had long since given way to grasslands, and then to a dense forest of both conifers and deciduous trees – beech, ash, oak, rowan andpohutukawa. I could see mountains rising in the distance, partially obscured by the mists of the Barrier.Set within a large clearing, the huge wall of logs obstructed our view of anything within. We came to a big padlocked gate; Ada got out the key, and then Deinon and I helped Tyron to push the heavy gate open.We drove the wagon into the muddy compound. Around us stood a number of crudely constructed, single-storey wooden buildings. I noticed that one structure was set a little apart from the rest. It had no windows andonly a narrow door. After unlocking this door, Ada entered, and I followed her somewhat apprehensively into the darkness, Kwin at my heels, with Deinon and Tyron bringing up the rear. Then there was a scratchingsound, and a sudden flare of yellow light, and Ada was brandishing a torch which she’d taken from a metal bracket attached to the wall. Ahead of me, I saw wooden steps leading downwards.‘Take off your shoes,’ Ada commanded. ‘We don’t want to drag any mud down there.’Without argument, we began to unlace and tug off our boots. As I followed her down, the smell of damp earth filled my nostrils. The fifteenth step brought us to a large cellar.‘Not a bad practice floor,’ Tyron said, looking around.The whole room was panelled in wood – though these timbers were not rough, but polished and stained a rich mahogany, as was the floor. It lacked the high-quality finish of Tyron’s training floor, but it was more thanadequate: I realized that Tallus had been very serious about competing in Arena 13. He must have spent a great deal of time and effort constructing this.I looked around, but saw no supporting pillars. Given the size of the cellar, this was surprising, and I glanced up nervously, wondering how the ceiling was held up, imagining all the earth above our heads.‘Did Tallus build this himself?’ I asked Ada.‘Tal paid others to help him, but yes, he worked on it himself and it wa
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Arena 13 #2 THE PREY I was still angry, but I said nothing more. I realized that we’d taken an important step towards defeating Hob. We had a lac patterned to a higher level than Tyron could achieve. He could learn from it.‘I heard you muttering at its shoulder. So tell me the wurdes to activate and de-activate the higher combat abilities of this lac.’‘It’s just the usual “Awake” and “Sleep”, but each time followed by its name, Thrym,’ I told him.‘So she’s given it a name!’ Tyron exclaimed in as...tonishment.Lacs were considered to be no better than animals, so I could understand his surprise. Giving lac a name somehow made it more human, even though it wasn’t fully sentient.‘Now, let’s see what this Thrym is made of!’ Tyron continued. ‘You can both stay. Watch and listen, if you’ve a mind to, but I fear you’ll learn little, Leif. You’ll struggle too, Deinon. This will take me far beyondwhat I know. Later, after I’ve interrogated the lac, I’ll examine the written wurdes.’Thus Tyron began to interrogate Thrym using the wurde-tool called Newt. Deinon watched and listened. After a while I left them to it. So engrossed were they that neither noticed me leave.Tyron was persistent, a clever man who didn’t give up easily. No doubt in time he would tease out a significant amount of new knowledge.But events moved even more quickly than any of us could have guessed.AN EVENING WITH TALLUSA single deceit is like the first step of a child;To maintain balance, others must follow.The Genthai Book of WisdomThe following morning Kwin called at Tyron’s house on her way to work in the admin building. After talking to her father, she came across and joined us at the table.‘You’re invited to a party tomorrow night,’ she told us with a grin. ‘Tallus wants to meet you.’‘Both of us?’ asked Deinon.‘Yes, both of you. Want to come?’I raised my eyebrows at Deinon, and he smiled and nodded. ‘A party you say? Definitely! Who else will be there?’‘Well, not my father – he certainly isn’t invited. But he’s happy enough for us to go, as long as we keep our ears open and report back to him what’s said while we’re there. Tallus and Ada will be there, but we are theonly guests. Ada just wants you to meet Tallus.’‘You say it’s a party . . .’ Deinon said. ‘Is it some sort of celebration?’‘I think things are going well for him, and he and Ada are really happy together. That’s all. He’s always been a bit of a loner,’ Kwin continued. ‘He doesn’t mix much with anybody – certainly not the othercombatants. I think the party is Ada’s idea, to be truthful. She thinks he should engage with other people more. He’s starting to feel more comfortable in my presence, so now it’s time to introduce him to my two bestfriends.’‘We’re your best friends?’ Deinon asked, raising his eyebrows.‘Of course you are!’ Kwin grinned. ‘You’re the brains and Leif is the brawn! If only I could merge you together into one being, you’d be the perfect man!’I smiled – I knew she was only joking; she liked to tease. But did she really think that I was just muscle without a brain? Did she think I was stupid? Well, I mused, it was foolish to feel hurt. But although my brainwas certain that Kwin didn’t mean anything by it, my heart was unsure.‘Why doesn’t she invite Tyron?’ I asked, attempting to put those dark thoughts away by changing the subject.‘There’s no chance of that!’ said Kwin. ‘Tallus is very suspicious of my father – he’s a rival. Don’t go on about patterning, or he’ll think you’re trying to pump Ada for information.’It was a warm evening, and as the sun set, the three of us walked across the city to Tallus’s quarters at the Wheel. Deinon and I were in our best shirts and trousers, and Kwin wore a pale purple dress that fitted her bodylike a glove. It was hard not to stare. Once she caught me at it, but smiled rather than looking angry.We were welcomed inside by Ada and Tallus. Kwin made the introductions. Tallus shook our hands and Ada gave us a brief hug.The room had changed since last I’d seen it and no longer looked like a workshop. There was no sign of the lac – I guessed it was in the wagon – and the table was covered with a blue cloth. The chairs had beenpushed back against the wall to create a space in the middle of the room, no doubt so that we had room to stand and chat while we ate. On the table there was a bottle of red wine, fruit juice and what looked likelemonade, along with sausage rolls, spicy dips and iced cakes, and we didn’t need much encouragement to start eating.Close up, Tallus looked taller than he did in the arena. Although stocky, he no longer appeared overweight. The regime of exercise that Ada put him through was finally paying off.He had pale blue eyes and sandy hair, and I could see why Ada found him attractive. At first she did most of the talking. He was clearly shy and didn’t make eye-contact or initiate any conversation beyond basicpleasantries.Deinon and I kept to fruit juice, but after a second glass of red wine Tallus started to relax.‘For many years Tal’s ambition has been to fight in Arena 13,’ Ada said, pausing to take a sip of her wine. ‘He started at the lower arenas, entering lacs he’d patterned himself. To fund that, he was a hunter. Isn’t thatright, Tal?’‘What did you hunt?’ I asked.‘I was really more of a trapper than a hunter,’ he said, meeting my gaze. ‘I had a stockade down south. I trapped deer and wolves and a few bears. I sold the pelts in Mypocine, and most of the meat – any that I didn’tkeep for my own use – to the Genthai. You’re part Genthai, aren’t you, Leif? Ever visited their domain in the forest?’I nodded and smiled. ‘I went there for the first time last winter.’‘Well, they were good to me and paid me well. I had a small hut out in the forest, and they extended it for me and built a stockade around it. Strangely they wanted paying in currency. As most of the tribe never goanywhere near the city, I wondered why. But I got the feeling that it was best not to ask too many questions.’I wondered if they’d used some of Tal’s money to buy the gramagandar. Only the Trader could have supplied such weapons.‘Was it creepy all alone in the forest?’ Kwin asked.‘It certainly was at times. Sometimes I found it difficult to sleep. I heard wolves howling out there amongst the trees. But I felt better once I had the protection of the stockade. I saw some strange things too . . .’ Tallusdidn’t finish his sentence and suddenly seemed deep in thought.It was Deinon who prompted him. ‘What sort of things?’‘Well, you’re going to think this is crazy, but one day I came across some decomposing bodies in the forest. They were pretty far gone – little more than skeletons. Most seemed to be the remains of wolves, but onewas really odd. From the neck downwards it was without doubt human, but the head was all wrong. It was the skull of a wolf – I’m sure of it.’‘Do you think it was one creature?’ Deinon asked. ‘I mean, could it have been somebody’s idea of a joke? You know – to replace the original human skull with a wolf one?’‘That’s what I tried to tell myself,’ Tallus said. ‘But the remains were whole and the skull was still attached to the neck.’‘That sounds weird,’ Kwin said. ‘If I’d found something like that, I’d have packed up and run straight back to the city.’‘I did think about it,’ said Tallus with a smile. ‘But I needed all the money I could get. It’s taken me years to get together enough to fight in the arena.’‘Well, enough talk of dead bodies and weird stuff,’ Ada interrupted. ‘This is supposed to be a party, isn’t it? Come on, Tal, play us a tune!’Tallus immediately went to the back of the room and returned carrying a small scuffed leather case. He sat down, put it on his knee and opened it to reveal its contents. I saw that it was a violin.Not many violins were made any more. Playing them was almost a lost art. ‘That looks really old,’ I commented. ‘I bet that set you back a few pelts.’‘It was my father’s,’ he said, his expression suddenly sad. ‘He inherited it from his own father. He taught me to play it and left it to me when he died.’Tallus put down the case, raised the violin to his shoulder and slowly drew the bow across the strings. Then he began to play.It was a sad tune, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Ada grimace before putting her hand on his shoulder.‘This is a party, Tal. We need happy music. We need music to dance to!’He smiled and began to play something much faster, a lively tune to set your feet tapping.Suddenly Kwin grabbed Deinon and put her arms around him. ‘You’ve got the brains, but have you got the rhythm?’ she asked. ‘Show me what you can do!’‘I can’t dance!’ he exclaimed, his face suddenly turning bright red.‘Then now’s your chance to learn!’ she said.I was smiling at Deinon’s embarrassment when Ada grabbed me. ‘Don’t tell me that you can’t dance, Leif. Anyone who moves well with a lac can dance. That’s what the Trig is – a kind of fluent, complex dance. Thisis much simpler!’With that, she seized my left hand and put her arm around my waist and began to guide me backwards and forwards in time to the music. ‘You can put your other arm around me, Leif. I won’t break,’ she scolded.I did as I was told, and soon got the hang of it; within moments we were spinning round as well. As the male partner, I should have been guiding Ada – that was the way people usually danced. But by touch andgesture she was dictating our movements; I was like her lac. But I enjoyed it. After all, she knew what she was doing and I didn’t.With a laugh, she brought me to a halt and whispered in my ear, her breath warm. ‘Now we’ll swap partners,’ she said. ‘I know you’re dying to dance with Kwin!’The music paused while we changed partners.‘Tal! Play us that piece by Paganini,’ Ada called out.‘Who’s Paganini?’ I asked.‘He was a violinist and composer – one of the ancients,’ she replied. ‘He was so brilliant and original that some believed he’d struck a deal with the devil. Tal’s going to play my favourite piece.’Now I had my right arm around Kwin and my heart started beating even faster. She felt warm and I could smell the scent of lavender. Tallus began to play again, the tempo faster than ever. The music was wild; it hada frantic, hypnotic quality, and I soon began to lose myself in the sound and the rhythm. All I was aware of was the music, the patterns our feet rapped upon the floor, the warmth and closeness of Kwin’s body and thefact that we were moving almost as one.At last the music ended and Ada began to fill four glasses with what I’d thought was lemonade. It turned out to be a sparkling white wine. While Ada poured, Kwin leaned against me, our arms still around each other’swaists. Was I imagining it, or was she actually pulling me close?But then we broke apart to take our glasses.‘A toast is needed, Tal!’ Ada commanded.Tallus smiled. He looked really happy, especially when Ada gave him a peck on the cheek and put her arm round him. He raised his glass and made the toast. ‘To the joy of life!’ he called out enthusiastically. ‘To thejoy of living! To the happiness of us all, and a long and successful future!’We sipped the wine and it tasted delicious.It was a great party.All good things come to an end, and after we’d taken our leave of Tallus and Kwin, Ada walked Deinon and me out into the cinder space behind the Wheel. The air had cooled, and without a coat I began to shiver.‘Thanks for coming tonight,’ Ada said, giving us both a hug. ‘It was a great evening – just what Tal needed.’‘I enjoyed it. Thanks,’ I replied.‘Me too,’ added Deinon.‘Oh, and I wanted to thank you for working out those sequences of wurdes for Deinon,’ I told her with a smile. ‘It was great to beat Palm.’Ada slowly shook her head, and out of the corner of my eye I watched Deinon’s face redden for the second time that night.‘I think it’s Deinon here you should thank,’ Ada said with a frown. ‘Tal made me promise not to work for anyone else, but because you were in trouble and it was Kwin who asked me, I made an exception. ButDeinon wrote the code. All I did was answer a few questions when he got stuck. We had the usual dialogue between a student and a teacher – like lessons. Deinon is without doubt the best pupil I’ve ever had, and that’ssaying something; I taught some brilliant people back in my former life, but I’ve never had a student like this boy.’ She put her arm round Deinon’s shoulders.Later, as we climbed the hill back to Tyron’s house, I mulled over what I’d just been told. Why couldn’t Deinon have been open with me? Kwin too had kept the truth from me. I felt excluded, yet at the same timethey’d ended my terrible sequence of defeats.‘Thanks for patterning that lac, Deinon. I really owe you for that. But why didn’t you tell me that it was your work? Why go to all that trouble of writing down and reading out your wurdes while pretending they wereAda’s?’‘I’m to blame for that, and I’m sorry,’ Deinon said. ‘But you know what Kwin’s like. She saw the cuts on your arms, had a row with Tyron – and quickly worked out that this was a scheme to get his hands on patternscreated by Ada. Kwin was angry and didn’t want to give him that, so she worked out an alternative. I would write the patterns, and Ada would only offer suggestions when I needed help.’‘So Tyron still doesn’t know the truth?’‘Kwin told me to keep my mouth shut – that he need never know. And the longer I go without telling him, the harder it will be. I don’t like deceiving people.’How could I complain? I was keeping a secret too, I thought: Deinon and Kwin didn’t know that Math was my father.‘You got really high praise there from Ada. Does Tyron know you’re that good?’‘I think he’s starting to realize,’ Deinon said.‘You might be better than he is one day!’Deinon smiled at that and shook his head, but I wondered if he was already better at patterning than Tyron. After all, Tyron had struggled to understand what Deinon had done; he’d been sure that it was Ada’s work.THE FATE OF TALLUSGrudge match rules apply, but for one:There is no clemency.Arena 13 Rules of Combat(Special Rules for when Hob Challenges)Tyron was keen to see Tallus’s lac in action again, knowing that it would be patterned to a much higher level than ours. Tallus’s next contest was scheduled third on the Lists on the Wednesday evening, so Deinon and Iaccompanied Tyron to the arena, eager to see what Tallus and his lac could do.The gallery was full of chattering, excited spectators. The women were there in force, filling almost a third of the two thousand seats. They were dressed in their silk finery, faces rouged and powdered, lips painted thefashionable black. I noticed a lot of young women and wondered how many of them were there to watch Palm, who was fighting first that night.Tyron was putting him into the arena a lot – much more than was usual for fighters of his young age and limited experience.We sat down in the front row. Ada and Kwin, just a dozen seats away to our right, called out greetings, and we waved back. Once more they had both painted only their top lip black, the lower one the rich red ofarterial blood.In the aisles the gambling house touts were doing a roaring trade; as usual, quite a few red tickets were being sold. But soon the huge candelabrum with its thirteen torches began to descend, the first warning thatthings were about to get underway, and everyone settled down to watch.With a rumble the two doors opened, the smaller min and the larger mag, and the two combatants and their armoured lacs emerged and quickly took up their positions. Palm was to fight a min combatant calledMarcos, who had three years of experience in Arena 13 and was slowly working his way up the rankings.I knew that Tyron wasn’t too bothered whether Palm won or lost. He just wanted him to gain experience. I was jealous because Tyron wouldn’t risk allowing me to fight.There were a few shrieks, and the girls began calling out Palm’s name. He smiled and waved up at them. His leather jerkin bore the silver wolf emblem that showed he fought from Tyron’s stable. His fit, muscularbody looked good in it, and he knew it.There was no sign of the scratches and dents that Thrym had inflicted on the armour of his tri-glad. It looked as shiny and fresh as if it had come straight from the forge. No doubt Palm’s wealthy father had paid tohave it repaired.However, there were two fresh scars on Palm’s left arm and one on his right; the cuts inflicted by Thrym after each of our victories. But I had my own scars – and more of them – to remind me of the bouts I’d lost.Out of sight, a deep bass drum began to beat with a slow, steady rhythm, and the tall figure of Pyncheon, the Chief Marshal, dressed in black and wearing a red sash, moved between the combatants. He was carryinghis long silver ceremonial trumpet. He raised his hand and the drum ceased; silence fell over the noisy spectators.‘Let the proceedings begin!’ he boomed in his pompous voice before strutting back towards the mag door. As he reached it, he raised the trumpet to his lips and blew a high shrill note, then disappeared from view.With a deep rumble, both doors closed and the contest got underway.Palm was a cautious fighter and liked to play safe. After our private bouts, I knew his tactics quite well. He had a repertoire of about eleven moves, mostly defensive, and at times he became quite predictable.However, such knowledge wasn’t enough to guarantee victory. His lacs were patterned to a very high level, their movements smooth and fast. If the lone lac defending a min combatant got anywhere near one, its throat-socket was vulnerable.So it proved now. The contest lasted only four minutes. Marcos’s lone lac got too close, and a blade called endoff, making it collapse on the floor.The initial polite applause was drowned out by shrieks and whoops as Palm’s fans showed their delight at his victory. Marcos received the ritual cut to his arm, and then the arena was cleared.‘A bit pedestrian, but Palm did well enough,’ Tyron said, leaning towards Deinon and me. ‘That performance might not please the aficionados, but the boy’s young; once his confidence grows, they’ll see what he iscapable of.’It was then that the torches in the arena suddenly flickered. The air turned icy cold, and suddenly we were all plunged into darkness. My heart lurched. Almost immediately the torches flared back into life, and screamsfilled the gallery, echoing back from the high ceiling – no longer cries of enthusiastic appreciation, but shrieks of terror.Once again the torches flickered and died. When their flames returned, I saw that the aisles were full of terrified people seeking to escape.Hob had arrived at the Wheel.After five minutes the gallery was almost clear; only combatants and their kin and the aficionados remained. I found it difficult to understand why so many spectators fled the gallery when Hob appeared. After all, theywere in no danger.I’d asked Tyron, and he explained that some people had such an ingrained dread of Hob that they couldn’t bear to be anywhere near him. Some believed that he chose victims to target in the future from amongst thespectators – though there was no evidence of this.Tyron hadn’t said a word. His face was grim and he was drumming his fingers on the arm of his seat, clearly agitated.Down in the green room, Pyncheon would be presenting the lottery orb to the min combatants. Whoever drew the short straw would have to fight Hob. Fighting from the mag, Palm was in no danger, but I knew thatTyron had other min combatants scheduled to fight tonight. I remembered the terrible night when Hob had slain Kern.Hob and his tri-glad, clad in ebony-black armour, entered the arena first. I stared at him angrily, my throat constricted so that I found it difficult to breathe. He was clad in regulation jerkin and shorts, and wore hisusual bronze helmet, with a wide black slit to look through. His arms were similar to a lac’s – significantly longer than those of a human. His head was tilted upwards; he seemed to be staring into the gallery.No wonder people believed that he selected victims here! Was he staring at me? I wondered.As Hob’s opponent entered from the min door, directly beneath us, I heard Tyron suck in his breath with relief. Looking down, I saw that the combatant didn’t have the silver wolf logo on his back.But I’d been staring at the jerkin without really seeing what was embossed there. Now I took it in and drew in my own breath sharply.TAL.I looked to my right and saw Ada’s wide staring eyes, and Kwin talking to her animatedly.Surely the lottery was fixed. Here was a man fighting with a lac crafted by a brilliant twice-born patterner about whom the whole city was buzzing. It was almost as if Hob had come to test himself against Ada’s talent.‘Now we’ll see just how good she is!’ Tyron exclaimed, as if reading my thoughts.‘It’s not fair! It’s too early,’ I replied angrily. ‘Tallus hasn’t had time to train properly.’I’d only met the man once, but I’d immediately taken to him. Ada cared about him, and now his life was on the line. Apart from my father, every combatant who’d faced Hob in Arena 13 had died there or been takenaway, wounded, never to be seen again. Was this to be the fate of Tallus?Pyncheon entered the arena only briefly, nodding to the combatants; then the doors rumbled shut, and lacs and combatants took up their positions. Tallus looked scared. He was very pale and there were beads of sweaton his forehead.To my surprise, Tyron pulled a small sand-timer from his pocket and positioned it on the arm of his seat. He’d used it occasionally during training as an alternative to the brass device, but I’d never seen him use it tocheck the timing of a contest in the arena.It consisted of two small glass orbs connected by a metal tube. The sand was funnelled down from the top into the bottom orb. Once the last grain had fallen, five minutes had passed. It was very accurate, far betterthan a clock-candle, and as good as the cumbersome mechanical wall-clock that Pyncheon would be using now to time the bout.The contest began very suddenly: Tallus’s lac attacked with great speed, driving Hob’s tri-glad backwards. As they clashed, Tyron tapped the top of his timer to start the flow of sand. So fast was the attack that Tallusonly just managed to keep up. He hadn’t used Ulum, so the lac had surged forward of its own volition, its patterns sensing the opportunity to put Hob on the back foot. Ada had claimed that it wasn’t sentient, but it didseem to have some initiative.It was a very good start. Could Tallus actually defeat Hob? I wondered.But Hob soon rallied, and his tri-glad fought its way to the centre of the arena. There was the constant rasp of metal on metal, and twice it sounded as if a blade had struck close to a throat-socket, though it was hard tobe sure which lac had dealt the blow.Up in the gallery there was absolute silence. The remaining spectators were enthralled, and sat holding their breath.‘Who’s winning?’ Deinon asked.‘It’s very even, boy,’ Tyron replied, glancing at his sand-timer. ‘It’s on a knife edge and could go either way. That lac is as good as anything Gunter ever patterned, and that’s saying something.’Gunter had patterned the lac that enabled my father to defeat Hob fifteen times. It wasn’t for nothing that they’d called him Gunter the Great.Then something astonishing happened. One of Hob’s lacs went down. Almost too fast to see, a blade penetrated its throat-socket to call endoff. With a roar, the spectators rose to their feet. My heart lurched withexcitement and hope, but I didn’t jump to my feet, and neither did Deinon. That was because Tyron was still staring at the timer.The upper glass bulb was already half empty.THE MOTHER OF A DJINNIA shatek is the mother of a djinni.The midwife is a Nym artificer.The Manual of NymThe downed lac was lying close to the far wall, so it didn’t obstruct the fighting, which raged close to the middle of the arena. The action was fast – very fast – and once again I heard the rasp of blades striking armour.Tyron was staring at his timer as if that was more important than what was taking place in the arena.He caught my eye. ‘He has to finish it now!’ he said. ‘Once that first five-minute stage is over, he has no hope of winning.’I understood exactly what he was saying. Tallus had improved his fitness, but it would still be nowhere near that of the average human combatant. Already his lungs and heart would be straining; his musclesprotesting. Dancing behind a lac demanded supreme fitness.And after five minutes the situation would get even worse: a gong would sound, and then Tallus would have to fight in front of his lac. That was why Tyron kept glancing at his sand-timer. During this stage of thebout, the long arms of his lac would have to reach over Tallus’s shoulders to defend him; he’d need to dance very close to it. I doubted that he would have developed sufficient skills to do this properly. There hadn’t beentime. He would be vulnerable to the blades of Hob and his two remaining lacs.Yes, he had to finish it now, I thought.But the gong had already sounded.Tyron cursed under his breath.The combatants repositioned themselves. Gripping his blades so tightly that his knuckles were white, Tallus stepped in front of his lac.Hob crouched before his two remaining lacs and flexed his knees. His eyes glittered behind the slit in his helmet. I noticed again how long his arms were. But for the bronze helmet he could have been a lac himself.Right from the start it went badly for Tallus. Now his lack of skill was evident. He had two left feet, and they betrayed him again and again. What was worse, he was clearly impeding his own lac. He kept stumbling,preventing it from moving forward smoothly. It could no longer attack, and was hard pressed to deflect the blades that sought his flesh.Suddenly Tallus tripped, this time completely off balance. He’d taken a tumble in his first contest, when the audience had laughed and jeered. This time the spectators remained silent or groaned softly. He fell backagainst his lac so that it was unable to wield its blade.Hob came in fast, his two remaining lacs almost at his side. With its left hand, Tallus’s lac thrust its blade into the throat-socket of its nearest attacker, calling endoff. But its right blade was blocked, and Hob stabbedforward, and suddenly the contest was over. Tallus’s lac collapsed.I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.Tallus was on all fours, desperately struggling to rise.Before he could do so, Hob chopped down viciously, cutting clean through his neck.Then he picked up Tallus’s head by the hair and held it aloft, showing it to the spectators. As the blood trickled from the stump and ran down Hob’s arm, there were groans and cries from the audience. I could smellthe blood – and hear the screams of anguish from Ada. She was trying to throw herself over the rail into the arena; Kwin was holding her back.Tyron pushed his way through to help: he seized Ada’s other arm. She was struggling to free herself, and her face was twisted in torment.Hob seemed to be looking directly up at her.Then the marshals appeared; three of them managed to get Ada into the central aisle and escort her up to the doors at the rear. She had stopped screaming, but sobs racked her body and tears streamed down her face.‘Kwin! Go with her. Make sure that she’s taken care of properly!’ Tyron called.Kwin nodded and climbed the stairs towards the doors.Marshals were entering the gallery in force now, ushering the spectators towards the exit. When I glanced back into the arena, I saw that Hob was still holding the severed head, but he seemed to be staring down atTallus’s lac.*Three hours later a tearful Kwin brought news of Ada.We came rushing downstairs when we heard her arrive. Teena had her arm around her and was trying to comfort her, but Kwin’s face was red and tears were flowing from her swollen eyes. She kept trying to speakbut couldn’t get the words out.Only when Tyron, drawn by the disturbance, came into the room did she calm down enough to speak.‘It was horrible . . . Ada kept screaming that it was her fault. She was hysterical. She fought like a fury, but then they sedated her and put her to bed.’‘Where was she taken?’ Tyron demanded.‘To the small hospital within the Wheel.’‘Did Hob take Tallus’s remains?’ he asked.Sobbing, Kwin shook her head.‘Well, at least that’s something,’ he said, without adding further comment.I knew that he was thinking about Kern and what Hob had done with his head – and what the tassels had done to his body. At least Tallus had been spared that.‘They say that he took Tallus’s lac though,’ Kwin added.Tyron nodded thoughtfully. No doubt Hob had taken it to learn what he could. That lac had downed two of his. If Tallus hadn’t stumbled backwards and impeded it, Hob would surely have been defeated.The following day, soon after dawn, Tyron took me with him to the office of Pyncheon, the Chief Marshal.‘I can’t believe the lottery chose Tallus,’ I observed as we strode through the deserted streets at Tyron’s usual furious pace. After a visit from Hob there were few people about. The city would be quiet for days.‘It had to be somebody, boy,’ Tyron said, ‘but I don’t trust the process one bit. Hob culls the rising stars of Arena 13; kills them early before they become a real threat.’‘So the lottery is rigged? Then Pyncheon must be involved. Is that why we’re going to see him?’‘I’d be a fool to confront him over that,’ growled Tyron. ‘No doubt he’s in Hob’s pocket, but there’s nothing I can do about it. No, we’re going there to buy Ada.’Was she still a slave? I wondered. That didn’t seem fair.‘Isn’t she free now that Tallus is dead?’Tyron shook his head and then glanced down at me and frowned. ‘Take that disapproving look off your face, boy!’ he ordered. ‘The woman’s status doesn’t change just because her first master’s dead. There is a deedof ownership, which is very valuable in this case. She has almost two years still to serve, and can be bought by the highest bidder. If I don’t buy her, then someone else will. That’s a fact of life, so don’t get on yourmoral high horse!’We walked on in silence. The sky was clear and it would be another warm day. High above the great block of the slaughterhouse, the vultures were already circling.The interview with Pyncheon did not go as Tyron had expected. He made his offer, and then slid a sealed envelope – as custom required – across the polished surface of the large desk.The Chief Marshal simply pushed it back with a shake of his head. ‘Tallus married the woman three days ago,’ he said, placing a large piece of paper before Tyron. There was a smaller piece fastened to it.Tyron picked it up and began to read.‘As you’ll note,’ continued Pyncheon, ‘clipped to the marriage certificate is a cancelled deed of ownership. It’s all perfectly valid – it was sworn in private before a commissioner for oaths. So the woman is free.’Tyron’s face fell, but there was nothing he could do about it. Ada was a widow, not a slave. No wonder she’d reacted so violently. She’d married Tallus just days before his death.I was saddened by the news. To have been married for so short a time and then have your husband snatched away in so brutal a manner – it was tragic. But at the same time I was happy that Ada had her freedom.Then a third piece of paper with a black border was handed to Tyron. It was the combined death and cremation certificate.‘The body was burned an hour ago,’ Pyncheon said.Tyron nodded but made no comment.The interview was over.The following day, at breakfast, Kwin arrived with a message from Ada. Her face was still full of grief. She didn’t even glance at me but went directly to her father.‘Are you all right, girl?’ Tyron said, coming to his feet.‘I was with Ada when she first woke up. It was bad, really bad. It brought back all the memories from last year when Teena lost Kern.’Tyron hugged her, and she leaned against him, her shoulders shuddering. ‘It’s not right,’ she sobbed. ‘It’s not fair. Somebody has to put a stop to this.’He patted her back but didn’t reply. She pulled away from him and straightened up, her eyes flashing with defiance. ‘Ada wants to speak to you, Father. Could you go to the hospital this morning?’‘Of course I will. I’ll go right away.’Then Kwin looked directly at me. ‘She would like Leif and Deinon to come with you.’Tyron frowned. ‘Did she say why?’She shook her head. ‘She doesn’t say much. But she’s angry, and I don’t blame her. I think she has some sort of plan . . .’‘A plan? A plan for what?’‘A plan to deal with Hob. A plan to sort him out once and for all!’Tyron shook his head, clearly exasperated. ‘Did you know that they were married?’ he demanded angrily.‘No. They were married in a private ceremony one morning. I work in your office then, don’t I? So don’t blame me!’ she snapped back.He patted his daughter’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry for doubting you, girl. It’s just that things are moving so fast I can’t keep up.’We left immediately. The hospital room was small; apart from the bed the only other furniture was a table beside it. On it were the documents we’d last seen in Pyncheon’s office.Ada was sitting upright with three pillows behind her back, her hands folded across her belly; she was wearing a simple white nightdress buttoned to the neck. There were dark shadows under her eyes and her lips,devoid of paint, were as pale as the rest of her face. Her black hair had grown and had been trimmed into the urchin style often chosen by mothers for their young sons.We stood beside her bed. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Tyron said.Ada nodded and stared down at her folded hands in silence. Suddenly she looked up at him. ‘I need to speak to the Trader,’ she said. ‘I need something from him.’‘He’s due in eight days’ time,’ Tyron said. ‘I’ll fix up an appointment for you. We could travel together by barge, if you like.’‘No,’ Ada said, shaking her head. ‘We will travel together, but not by barge. If I visit him with the others, it will be common knowledge. What I want must be a secret – especially from Hob.’‘So you plan to act against Hob in some way?’ Tyron asked.‘Yes.’There was a silence while they stared at each other.I wondered what she planned to do. I was also impatient to find out why she had wanted Deinon and me to visit her.‘If you want my help, woman, I need to know more than that,’ Tyron said gruffly.‘I will do what I must – with or without your help,’ she answered, her eyes flashing with defiance. ‘But if I get what I need from the Trader – then I will tell you what you wish to know. You wish to learn more aboutNym? Then I will be your teacher. Is that what you want?’Tyron’s eyes shone with eagerness and he nodded.‘Then it’s settled. So can we meet the Trader in secret? Is there a way?’Tyron scratched his head then gave a sigh. ‘It might be possible. There is a way to summon him. He arrives after dark on the eve of the appointed date for his visit, laying up at anchor out of sight. There’s a greatbronze plate suspended by chains close to the tower by the Sea Gate. Beat that gong, and he will come ashore – though nobody has done so in living memory.’Ada leaned across and picked up a document from the table, throwing it angrily onto the bed. I noted the black border. It was Tallus’s death and cremation certificate.‘They burned Tal’s body and scattered the ashes while I was still unconscious,’ she cried, tears springing from her eyes. ‘Couldn’t they have waited for me? It was cruel.’‘I’m sorry for your grief and pain, but no cruelty was intended,’ Tyron said in a kindly voice. ‘Unfortunately, that’s the custom. If someone dies at Hob’s hands in Arena 13, the body is burned as soon as possible. Hehas been known to come back for the remains he doesn’t take with him; he’s capable of doing terrible things to his victims. He retrieves and preserves souls in order to torture them. The bodies are usually eaten by hisfollowers. In this city we do not bury people lest the tassels eat the dead flesh. Speedy cremation is the norm. It’s meant for the best.’Ada did not speak for a while, and a heavy silence fell over the room.‘Did you want to speak to Leif and Deinon?’ Tyron said, nodding across the bed towards us. ‘You asked to see them.’‘Yes. I want them both to come with us to the Sea Gate and to witness what I do. Deinon has great potential as a coder and will benefit from the experience.’Deinon’s face lit up and he beamed at Ada.‘As for Leif,’ she continued, ‘in time I would have him fight with my lac in Arena 13. Would you do that, Leif?’I gasped. It would be a dream come true. I would be fighting with a lac capable of defeating Hob. Revenge would finally be within my grasp.However, I looked at my master. ‘I’m being trained by Tyron,’ I explained. ‘Whether or not I fight behind your lac, I still belong to his stable. It would be his decision.’Tyron looked at Ada rather than me. ‘May I ask the reason for that choice? You’ve never seen him in action. Leif’s just a novice,’ he told her.‘Compared to him, those I’ve seen fighting in the arena are like slow old men. They belong to the past. He is young, fast and very hungry. He is the future. I’ve seen your daughter move, and she says Leif is herequal.’‘So with the help of something you hope to buy from the Trader, you intend to defeat Hob in the arena?’‘Correct.’‘I don’t wish to be cruel, but your skills couldn’t save Tallus. It was a close contest, but your lac wasn’t good enough to win. Tallus had neither the experience nor the skill to fight to the fore of that lac. The contestshould have been won in the first five minutes: you should have ensured that.’‘Your words are cruel, but I accept what you say,’ Ada said. ‘I underestimated Hob and didn’t anticipate Tal having to fight him so soon. Poor Tal was an eager novice. He tripped and fell. I shouldn’t have allowedhim to fight so soon.’‘Why should I put my trainee at risk? He’s a novice too.’‘My skills are adequate, but in this fallen world I’m denied what I need – as are all who pattern here. I believe the Trader will be able to provide what is missing. Even if you had it, your knowledge of Nym is not goodenough to enable you to use it properly. Help me, and you will see how it is done.’‘The Trader may demand a high price for what you want. If necessary, I’ll lend you the money,’ Tyron offered.‘I may well take you up on that offer. Tal has left me a little money, but it may be insufficient.’‘Will we buy wurdes of Nym – the special primitives necessary to build sentience?’ Tyron asked.‘That’s no longer necessary – I’ve already developed my own primitives – but there is one further thing that I cannot create. It is a creature called a shatek.’‘What’s that?’ Tyron demanded, voicing the question on all our lips.‘A shatek is the mother of a djinni,’ Ada replied, ‘and I will be the midwife.’‘Then what about the father?’‘Thrym will be the father, but he will also be the son. He will be twice-born, as I am. He will be sentient. In partnership, he and Leif will slay Hob over and over again until his final self is dead. Before that djinni dieshis final death, he will wish he had never been created.’THE WARSHIP OF A WARRIORThe Trader does not come bearing gifts.Cross his palm with silver.Even better, offer gold.Amabramsum: the Genthai Book of WisdomSoon after dark on the eve of the Trader’s midsummer visit to the Sea Gate, Tyron drove a wagon hauled by eight oxen towards the western edge of the city. Inside, strapped to a jig – a wooden frame with bindings at theankles, wrists and throat, the usual procedure for transporting lacs – lay Thrym, in the deep sleep.I was wide awake and sitting on the front seat between Tyron and Deinon. Ada and Kwin were immediately behind us.It was an unusually warm, humid night, and I could hear faint rumbles of thunder in the distance.I looked forward to our arrival at the Sea Gate with mounting excitement. What did a shatek look like? I wondered. Soon I was going to find out.I’d assumed we would follow the course of the canal – the most direct route to our destination – but we veered away from it. When I mentioned this, Tyron just said, ‘It’s too dangerous. We might be seen.’So we took a winding route through the edge of the forest that probably doubled the length of our journey. Soon it began to rain, the wind buffeting the wagon with increasing fury, thunder rumbling in the west. Asummer storm was building.At last the canal came into view once more. We had reached the Terminus on the cliff above the Sea Gate, and now began our descent through the woods on foot, having tethered the oxen and sealed the wagon againstthe driving rain.As we approached the tower, a glimmer of yellow light spilled out from its highest window. Were we being spied upon?‘I thought the tower was deserted,’ I said to Tyron.‘The Keeper watches over the Sea Gate. I don’t think he’ll approve of what we’re about to do.’Tyron led us across to the bronze gong suspended between two stone pillars. It was about six feet in diameter and over a foot thick. Leaning against one pillar was a long-shafted hammer, its heavy head covered withthick leather.Tyron bent down and gripped the shaft. But Ada came to his side and shouted something into his ear, which was lost beneath a crack of thunder. Then, with a shrug and a grimace, he stepped back; now she seized thehammer.For a moment it seemed that it would be too heavy for her, but I could see the anger and determination on her face. In a paroxysm of rage, she swung it up to shoulder height and spun her whole body round so that itshead made sudden contact with the gong. She grasped it tightly, striking the gong again and again.That summons boomed out across the choppy water, and before the seventh strike the door of the tower burst open and the Keeper of the Gate ran over to stay Ada’s hand. But Tyron intervened, pulling him to oneside.On the thirteenth stroke, lightning forked above the harbour and the gong’s boom was answered by a clap of thunder.Ada laid down the hammer and stood there in the lashing rain. The Keeper pushed past Tyron, gesticulating and shouting at her, but she simply ignored him, knelt on the wet ground, buried her face in her hands andwept.Kwin knelt by her side and put her arm round her shoulders.Deinon looked scared, and my heart was pounding in my chest. Something momentous was happening here.Then Tyron cried out, ‘Look, Ada! The Trader’s here!’Lit by another fork of lightning, a dark ship was surging towards us between the narrow arms of the outer harbour, its black sails billowing in the gale. And upon its prow was a carved white wolf, so huge and life-likethat it seemed to bound before the ship. Its tongue lolled from its mouth and its fangs were bared, its eyes blazing with fury as it leaped towards its unseen prey.I had a sudden moment of insight. This was not the vessel of a Trader. It was the warship of a warrior.The Keeper was pointing towards the tower, and we followed him through the narrow doorway and stood inside, shivering as water dripped from our clothes onto the stone flags. A single torch flickered on the far wallabove a long oaken table; twelve chairs were positioned along the sides and a thirteenth at its head.The man disappeared into another room and returned carrying towels, which he offered to us. Gratefully we wiped the rain from our faces. I saw that he was an old man with grey stubble on his chin and a gaunt face,but he had kind eyes. He pointed towards the table, gesturing that we should sit down.We nodded and took a seat, but nobody spoke. When he left the room, I sat there in a daze, listening to the rain battering against the stones. The Keeper had left the door ajar, and it swept into the room, forming a largepuddle, which glistened yellow in the torchlight.He returned with a tray of steaming metal tankards, which he placed upon the table. ‘Drink,’ he commanded. ‘It will drive out the chill.’I lifted the tankard to my lips and sipped the liquid cautiously. It contained hot caudle – a sweet and spicy gruel which slid down my throat to warm my stomach. I sipped again and felt new strength spreading throughmy body.Suddenly I heard heavy footsteps on the flags, and a giant of a man dressed in chain mail from head to foot stood framed in the doorway; he wore a silver mask, and luxuriant red hair spilled down almost to hisshoulders.The Keeper went across and bowed low, and I heard him whispering quietly. Then he returned to the table and pulled out the chair at its head. For the first time I noticed that this was larger than the others; on its backwas carved the head of a snarling wolf.Unbidden, we came to our feet and bowed to the stranger. Although he was dressed as a warrior, with silver chain mail and a long dagger sheathed at his belt, his hair and size told me that this was the same man wehad met in the tent close to this very spot.He bowed graciously in return and motioned for us to sit, before taking his own seat. I looked at the eye-slits in the mask, and saw the flicker of the eyes behind. There was no opening for his mouth.The Keeper bowed to each of us and left the room. When he’d gone, the Trader spoke. The deep voice was somewhat muffled by the mask, but his words were clear.‘For what reason have I been summoned?’ he demanded.‘I loved a man and now he is dead,’ Ada said simply. ‘And I cannot find peace until the thing that murdered him is also dead.’‘Name this murderer!’‘The creature is a djinni called Hob,’ Ada continued. ‘He slew my husband in the arena.’‘Then what do you wish from me?’‘A shatek,’ she said, glancing towards Tyron. ‘I will pay the required price.’Tyron nodded. ‘I’ll be her guarantor. I am prepared to advance the money,’ he said.‘Do you know what it is that you contemplate?’ the Trader asked, turning towards Ada and resting his huge mailed fists on the table.‘Do you know who I am?’ Ada countered, an edge of anger in her voice. ‘Do you know me?’The Trader nodded. ‘I should, for I brought you to this place and awoke you from the sleep that is akin to death, thus making you twice-born. Once, long ago, you were the High Adept of Nym, foremost amongst thosein the Imperial Academy, and amongst your colleagues you had no equal. But now you are but a lone woman in a fallen land. The forces that oppose you are far more strange and terrible than you realize.’‘The shatek? Is one available?’ Ada asked, becoming impatient.‘Yes, it’s available. I can supply what you demand now. But my payment can wait.’‘I will pay you in full,’ she insisted.The Trader nodded. ‘One year from this very night I will be at anchor in the harbour. If you still live, bring to me what is owed.’Ada nodded and he rose to his feet. Throughout this interchange Kwin, Deinon and I had remained silent. Even Tyron had spoken only one sentence.With Ada in the lead, we followed the Trader out into the darkness. The storm had abated, leaving behind a warm drizzle as insubstantial as mist. We waited on the quayside while the Trader boarded his ship and wentdown into the darkness of the hold.It was some time before he emerged. When he did so, he was no longer alone. Behind him, four squat figures laboured to manoeuvre something up onto the deck; it was a cylinder of dull metal, big enough toaccommodate a large human body.They hefted it to waist height, supporting it on straps around their shoulders. When they clambered up onto the quay with their heavy load, I saw that they were not human; their naked bodies were covered with a hideof dark hair that glistened in the fine drizzle. Although a head shorter than me, they were much broader and stockier.Their heads were not human either: they had flat snouts and fangs that curved downwards over their bottom lips – though their eyes flashed with intelligence. They watched us with sideways glances even as they wentabout their business, and I sensed their threat. I saw Kwin’s eyes widen in fear and heard Deinon gasp. I was glad that the Trader was standing between us and them, directing their movements with quick hand signals.‘What are those creatures?’ Kwin asked Ada.‘They are called rasire,’ she replied. ‘They are a type of low-level singleton, brutal and debased, often used by djinn as beasts of burden to fetch and carry. But they are very strong, and are sometimes used in battle.However, they need strict discipline or they will turn on their master.’As the creatures climbed the hill towards the wagon their bodies began to steam in the rain.I heard the oxen snort in fear at their approach, but the four creatures had soon secured the cylinder aboard our wagon, moving back into the trees to begin their descent towards the Sea Gate.We turned to take our leave of the Trader.‘Other than your title of Trader, do you have a name?’ Ada asked him.‘I have many names,’ he replied. ‘But some call me Lupus.’‘Then I thank you, Lupus,’ she said with a warm smile. ‘Thanks for what you’ve supplied. You’ll be paid in full. I always keep my word.’He bowed, and as he did so, the red mane of hair fell forward over the silver mask. Then, without another word, he turned and followed his rasire.‘What now?’ Tyron demanded.‘We take the shatek to Tal’s stockade,’ Ada replied. ‘Then I will begin my work.’‘Where is this place?’‘It’s in the forest on the edge of the Genthai lands to the south-east. He took me there once.’‘You say you only visited it once. Are you sure you’ll be able to find the way?’‘The same skills I use when observing and developing patterns also enable me to recall routes. Don’t you worry, I’ll find it. I’ll sit beside you and be your guide.’We headed along a rutted track that ran roughly south. After a couple of hours we halted to get some rest. Tyron insisted that Ada and Kwin should sleep inside the wagon. It meant sharing with Thrym and the shatek.But Thrym was in the deep sleep and the shatek was still within its container. They’d certainly be more comfortable than us.We were to use the wooden seats. It would have been more comfortable on the ground, but it had only just stopped raining and it was saturated.Before we settled down on our blankets, Tyron beckoned to Deinon and me. He led us some distance away into the trees, well out of earshot of Ada and Kwin. Coming to a halt, he turned and faced us. His face was indarkness, but the tone of his voice told me that he was angry. It was directed at me.‘Don’t build up your hopes of fighting behind that lac, Leif. I don’t care how good it proves to be. You’re still a novice. I’m just playing along with Ada for now, until I find out what I need. Understand?’‘But what if it’s so good that even a novice could dance behind it and win?’ I protested, the words flying out of my mouth. ‘And don’t we want to defeat Hob in the arena? Don’t we want to defeat him over and overagain until we can attack him in his citadel? You said that Hob might come after me if I fought in Arena 13. Well, isn’t that exactly what we want? I could be the lure that draws him to his destruction. Wasn’t that yourplan?’‘It was a plan that you were supposed to keep secret, but I suppose it doesn’t matter if Deinon knows,’ Tyron said, patting him on the shoulder. ‘But remember, we’re here to learn from Ada – you especially, Deinon.This is a golden chance and we’ve got to take it.’Then, without another word, he headed back towards the wagon and we followed him.I spent an uncomfortable night but I had plenty to think about. I was impressed by what I’d seen of Ada. She had stood up to the Trader, while we were nervous in his presence. Back when humans ruled the world, shereally had been important. She was talented and she believed in herself. Hob had threatened me and, even worse, threatened anyone I might show affection for. He had to be dealt with, and quickly. This was our chanceto do exactly that, and far sooner than I’d expected.Despite what Tyron had said, I was looking forward to fighting with a lac patterned by Ada. I really wanted it to happen.I was a lot nearer to getting my revenge.THE SHATEKCreation is a messy business.Amabramsum: the Genthai Book of WisdomIt was almost almost a week before we finally reached the stockade. The rough track had long since given way to grasslands, and then to a dense forest of both conifers and deciduous trees – beech, ash, oak, rowan andpohutukawa. I could see mountains rising in the distance, partially obscured by the mists of the Barrier.Set within a large clearing, the huge wall of logs obstructed our view of anything within. We came to a big padlocked gate; Ada got out the key, and then Deinon and I helped Tyron to push the heavy gate open.We drove the wagon into the muddy compound. Around us stood a number of crudely constructed, single-storey wooden buildings. I noticed that one structure was set a little apart from the rest. It had no windows andonly a narrow door. After unlocking this door, Ada entered, and I followed her somewhat apprehensively into the darkness, Kwin at my heels, with Deinon and Tyron bringing up the rear. Then there was a scratchingsound, and a sudden flare of yellow light, and Ada was brandishing a torch which she’d taken from a metal bracket attached to the wall. Ahead of me, I saw wooden steps leading downwards.‘Take off your shoes,’ Ada commanded. ‘We don’t want to drag any mud down there.’Without argument, we began to unlace and tug off our boots. As I followed her down, the smell of damp earth filled my nostrils. The fifteenth step brought us to a large cellar.‘Not a bad practice floor,’ Tyron said, looking around.The whole room was panelled in wood – though these timbers were not rough, but polished and stained a rich mahogany, as was the floor. It lacked the high-quality finish of Tyron’s training floor, but it was more thanadequate: I realized that Tallus had been very serious about competing in Arena 13. He must have spent a great deal of time and effort constructing this.I looked around, but saw no supporting pillars. Given the size of the cellar, this was surprising, and I glanced up nervously, wondering how the ceiling was held up, imagining all the earth above our heads.‘Did Tallus build this himself?’ I asked Ada.‘Tal paid others to help him, but yes, he worked on it himself and it wa
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