The Verdant Passage

TWELVE ASTICLES WINE

Rikus didn’t care much for Asticles wine. The pale golden color reminded him of something he’d rather not drink, and the tart, dry scent made his nose tingle. It had a thin, light taste that left him with a dry month, and after each swallow he had a thirst for something richer and sweeter. Still, compared to the fruit syrup doled out in Tithian’s slave pits, Asticles wine was at least drinkable, and it was a lot more potent than its watery appearance suggested. Besides, drinking it made the gladiator feel like he was stealing something from a nobleman, and he liked that feeling.

The big mul lifted his crystal goblet and asked, “How about some more?”

“Have all you like. My master won’t care,” replied Caro, who had introduced himself as the valet of Agis of Asticles. The wrinkled old dwarf picked up a carafe and refilled the goblets of his guests.

Rikus, Neeva, and Caro were in the western courtyard of the Asticles mansion, sitting on a pair of benches sheltered beneath a vine-covered bower. The bower stood upon a small patio-island located at the center of a deep pool. A narrow bridge ran from the island to the marble colonnade that ringed the pond, and the colonnade was in turn encircled by a granite privacy wall.

Enormous lily pads covered the surface of the pond. Round, with upturned edges, they resembled green serving trays set out to float on the water. Between the pads drifted pink-hearted blossoms with pearly white petals.

Every now and then, a flower bobbed once or twice, then Anezka’s wooly-haired head appeared as she treaded water and gulped down a few lungfuls of air. The halfling had been in the pond since they arrived, when she had astonished both Caro and her companions by stripping off her dusty clothes and jumping into the pool.

Rikus and his companions had spent the previous four days skulking about the desert, sneaking into faro orchards to ask directions of unguarded slaves. They had met with little success, for most fields were deserted, having been ravaged by scavengers or burned by marauders. On the two occasions when they had found someone, the slave had mistaken them for raiders and had run off screaming the alarm. Finally the trio of gladiators had gone to the road, where they had ambushed a templar. He had told them what they needed to know in exchange for a mercifully quick death. After the four-day ordeal, Rikus was so tired and thirsty that he would have joined Anezka in the lily pond, had he known how to swim.

“How will your master feel about a halfing bathing in his pond?” Rikus asked.

Caro watched Anezka’s small form slip beneath a lily pad, then smiled crookedly. “Don’t worry about my master,” the dwarf said. “If we wanted to, we could drink the last drop of his wine and swim in his pond for days. He’d never say a word to us, I promise.”

“Then here’s to Agis of Asticles. May his fortunes prosper!” Neeva said, raising her goblet. When Caro did not match the gesture, the woman asked. “What’s wrong? It’s only proper to drink to your host’s health.”

“To toast him would be to toast my bondage,” the dwarf replied, his face unreadable.

“There are worse things than this sort of bondage,” Neeva said, waving her hand around the lavish courtyard. “This is paradise!”

“Compared to our slave pits, perhaps,” Rikus allowed, rolling his crystal goblet between two grimy fingers. “But slavery is slavery. I doubt that Caro’s master views him much differently than be does this colonnade or his house. It’s all property.”

Caro nodded. “I couldn’t have put it better, my friend.”

“Forget I offered that toast,” Neeva said, starting to empty her glass on the ground.

Rikus grasped her wrist. “Don’t waste the wine!” he said. “Slaves get too little of it. We just have to think of something better to toast.”

Caro lifted his glass. “To your freedom,” he said.

All three of them downed their wine in a single gulp. The dwarf refilled their glasses, then casually tossed the empty carafe into the pool. It landed on a lily pad and came to a rest in the center of the enormous leaf.

“Have you given thought to where you’ll go from here?” Caro asked.

Rikus nodded. “After we find Sadira, we’ll join a slave tribe,” the mul said.

“I’m afraid you may have to wait for quite some time before you speak to Sadira,” Caro replied. “She’s with Lord Agis in the city, and I don’t know when they’ll return. Perhaps you should leave the message with me. I’ll see that she gets it.”

Rikus shook his head. “We’ll have to wait-”

“We can’t wait long,” Neeva interrupted. “The cilops are probably already on our trail. If we’re going to have any chance of escaping, we’ve got to keep moving-and get to the mountains before they catch us.”

“It’s not fair to burden Caro with this particular message,” Rikus said.

Neeva met Rikus’s eyes evenly. “Tithian’s spy is watching Sadira. If Caro’s here and Sadira’s in Tyr, then Caro can’t be the spy, can he?”

“Spy?” Caro gasped, his jaw dropping. A moment later, he closed his mouth again. “How did you find out there’s a spy in my master’s household?”

“That’s a long story not worth the telling,” Rikus said, far from anxious to dredge up memories of Yarig’s death by discussing the gaj. “If you’ll tell us where your master and Sadira are, we might reach her before we go to the mountains.”

“I’m afraid it would be impossible to find them. The last time I saw my master and Sadira, they were going to a rendezvous. They never returned,” Caro explained, a sudden frown accentuating the deep crow’s feet around his eyes. “I’m afraid something may have happened to them.”

“We’re too late!” Rikus yelled, hurling his goblet across the pool. It smashed against the outer wall, causing a light tinkle of shattering glass to echo all around the colonnade.

Neeva reacted more calmly. “How long ago was this rendezvous?” she asked. “Where was it to take place?”

“Agis and Sadira disappeared three days ago,” Caro reported. “Neither would say where they were going, but both were acting rather nefarious about the whole thing. I suspect their destination was somewhere in the Elven Market.”

Rikus stood. “That’s where we’re going.”

The old dwarf slipped off the bench and dropped to the ground. “I have something in the house that might help you.”

“What?” Neeva asked.

Caro smiled. “It’s a surprise,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll find it quite remarkable.”

After the dwarf left, Rikus and Neeva retrieved the weapons they had stolen during the escape from Tithian’s estate. They secured the daggers to the belts of their breechcloths, then Rikus kneeled at the edge of the pool to catch Anezka’s attention.

Just as the mul glimpsed her form gliding toward him, several sets of thudding steps sounded outside the colonnade. Rikus looked up and saw the stout form of a half-giant blocking the arched entrance. His brown hair hung over his ears in long greasy strings, and he had a protruding brow set above a pair of drooping eyes. The half-giant wore a purple tunic emblazoned with Kalak’s golden star, and in one hand he carried a polished bone club taller than a dwarf. The guard’s thighs were as big around as the pillars of the colonnade, and he had to stoop to keep from scraping his head on the ceiling.

“In the name of King Kalak, stand where you are!” the half-giant bellowed. His voice rumbled over the still waters of the pond and echoed off the opposite wall encircling the colonnade. As the guard lumbered toward the bridge, another half-giant, a little stockier and shorter than the first, stepped into the entrance.

Anezka briefly stuck her head up from between a pair of the lilypads. When she saw Rikus’s shocked expression and the half-giant guards, she slipped back beneath the water and disappeared beneath the floating leaves.

“Neeva!” called Rikus, returning to his feet. “Hand me the-”

The mul had spoken too late. Even as he reached for the spear, it whistled past his head. The shaft took the first half-giant square in the rib cage and sank to half its length. The guard dropped to his knees, then pitched forward onto his face.

The second guard began to climb over the still body of the first. A third half-giant moved through the entrance and, upon seeing the blockage ahead, circled around the other way.

Rikus searched the area beneath the bower for something to use as a weapon. Both he and Neeva had obsidian daggers, but the knives did not seem like effective weapons against half-giants.

When the mul’s eye fell on the bench, an idea occurred to him. He gave his dagger to Neeva, then nodded toward the closest half-giant. Rikus did not need to say a word for his fighting partner to know he wanted her to cover the attack he was about to make.

The second half-giant finished climbing over his dead comrade, then stepped onto the bridge. Rikus wrapped his massive arms around the bench and picked it up, groaning with the effort. He turned toward the bridge. The half-giant stepped a third of the way across in one stride. “Stop!” he cried.

Rikus charged, holding the bench like a battering ram. The half-giant grinned and lifted his club.

From behind the mul, Neeva’s dagger flashed overhead in a black streak. It hit the guard in the brow, striking hilt-first. It bounced harmlessly away and landed on a lily pad with a hollow thump. Nevertheless, the attack served its function-stunning the half-giant long enough to keep him from swinging his club before Rikus drove the end of the bench into the guard’s chest.

A great crack sounded from the half-giant’s sternum. A heavy groan escaped his lips. He whirled his arms, and his club went crashing into the bower. With a tremendous bellow, the guard fell backward, slamming into a pillar. The marble column broke into three pieces, and the half-giant landed among the sections, cursing and vowing vengeance.

As the guard started to sit up, the roof collapsed, dumping half a ton of rubble on his head. His death cries were lost amid the thunderous clatter.

Rikus dropped the bench and turned around. He saw that the third half-giant had decided against the bridge and was approaching the patio through the pond. Neeva already faced him. Armed only with a dagger, she was moving forward to meet him at the edge of the island.

To one side of the bridge, Anezka emerged from the water long enough to grab the dagger that had fallen on the lily pad. Guessing that she intended to attack from under the water, Rikus retrieved the second half-giant’s club and stepped to his fighting partner’s side. When Neeva lifted her arm to throw her remaining dagger, Rikus laid a restraining hand on her wrist.

“Not yet.”

“Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

The mul did not reply, but held onto her throwing arm, waiting for Anezka’s attack. When the half-giant lifted his club to swing at Neeva, Rikus finally released her.

“Thanks a lot!” the blond gladiator exclaimed, preparing to dodge instead of throwing her dagger.

The half-giant paused in mid-stroke. He stared at his feet, then screamed in pain. The guard plunged his hand into the water behind his ankle.

Guessing that Anezka had severed the tendons at the soldier’s ankle, Rikus swung his club at the half-giant’s head. He made contact, but the shock jarred him to the soles of his feet and his hands went numb from vibration. It felt as though he had struck a marble column instead of a skull.

The only effect on the half-giant was to draw his attention away from his feet.

“Now, Neeva!” Rikus yelled. “Throw your dagger!” The guard’s massive fist shot out of the water and hit Rikus in the face. The mul tumbled a dozen yards across the patio and smashed into one of the posts supporting the bower.

As Rikus struggled to focus his eyes, Neeva threw her dagger. It struck blade first, tipping a long slice in the guard’s cheek. The half-giant roared and lifted his weapon to strike. Neeva threw herself in Rikus’s direction.

As the club smashed into the patio, the guard bellowed again, then reached into the water and grabbed at his other heel. He took a panicked step toward the colonnade. He stumbled and fell into the pond, spraying water and scattering lily pads everywhere. Rikus could see the half-giant flailing and clutching at the pillars to keep himself from drowning.

A moment later, clenching her bloody dagger in her teeth, Anezka slipped out of the pond and went to retrieve her clothes.

The bellowing and roaring of the battle inside the colonnade had reached even the faro fields surrounding the Asticles mansion. Agis and Sadira surmised that someone was fighting in the courtyard, but they could determine little else.

They crouched at the edge of a dusty field, staring over the coppery field of rockstem that separated the farm from the mansion grounds. The meadow was one of the most ancient features of the Asticles mansion, for rockstem was a leafless, hard-skinned plant that did not grow so much as accumulate in one place over the centuries, forming fantastic, twisted shapes.

From across this tangled heath, the white marble colonnade looked like nothing more than a wing of the mansion. The two half-giants and the templar standing outside it were silhouettes the size of insects.

The two watchers were protected from view by both the rockstem and the faro trees, but neither plant shielded them from the oppressive afternoon sun. Both Agis and Sadira were dizzy from the heat, and their throats were so swollen with thirst that they sometimes found themselves choking on their own tongues.

They had been prowling about in the faro fields since mid-morning, when they had returned to Agis’s estate from UnderTyr. After Ktandeo had died, a crimson knight had taken the old sorcerer’s body inside the temple. Sadira had thrown the bronze disk by which the templars had been tracking them into the shrine, then she and Agis had crept away and hidden at the edge of the dark courtyard.

Shortly afterward, the templar commander had ordered his men to storm the shrine. The crimson knights had met them at the entrances, and Agis and Sadira had taken advantage of the resulting battle to flee. They had retraced their path to the Drunken Giant. After finding the wineshop wrecked and abandoned, they had returned to Agis’s house to gather supplies.

Fortunately, Sadira had insisted that they take the morning to reconnoiter, reasoning that Tithian might well have ordered Agis’s house watched. After several hours of waiting, it had become apparent that the half-elf’s caution was warranted. Four figures, two tall and two short, had entered the colonnade. Agis had been able to identify the shuffling gait of one of the short figures as that of his manservant Caro. A short time later, Caro had left the colonnade and fetched five half-giants and a templar from main house. Three of the half-giants had gone into the colonnade, and that was when the fighting had begun.

“The time has come to reclaim my home,” Agis said, staring at Caro, the templar, and the two half-giants still waiting outside the colonnade. “I think we’re looking at all that remains of the group Tithian sent to watch my house.”

Sadira nodded. “If we stay out here much longer, my tongue will be too thick to cast spells.”

Agis studied the scene for a few more moments, then asked, “Can you disable the two half-giants?”

The half-elf started to shake her head, then looked at the cane in her hand and changed her mind. “I can probably kill everybody, but we’d better get a little closer.”

Agis scowled at Ktandeo’s cane. “Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked. “We don’t know much-”

“I know enough,” the half-elf insisted. “Besides, it’s dangerous to use normal magic so close to your rockstem. Such slow-growing plants might not recover from the drain.”

Agis pursed his lips, but nodded. “Just leave Caro alone.”

“You can’t believe he didn’t betray us!” the half-elf objected.

“No, I can’t even hope that any more,” Agis said. “I still don’t want him killed.”

Sadira shrugged, then looked toward the colonnade. “If you want to save Caro, you’ll have to kill the templar standing next to him. The more distance there is between my targets and Caro, the better.”

Agis nodded, then unsheathed his dagger and held it in the palm of his hand. The noble closed his eyes and focused his concentration on his energy nexus, opening a pathway from his body through his arm and into the palm that held the dagger. Agis let out a short breath, at the same time closing his fingers around the dagger. He pictured them melding with the hilt and ceasing to exist as separate digits. The weapon became a part of his body that he could control and direct as easily as he could his arms or his legs.

When Agis opened his eyes again, to him it appeared the dagger had taken the place of his hand at the end of his wrist. He felt the leather hilt wrapped around the cold steel of its tang in the same way he felt his skin covering his bones. “Ready?” he asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Sadira replied. “Let’s go.”

“We’ll rely on their curiosity to get us closer,” he said, leading the way out of the faro.

They moved through the waist-high rockstem formations casually, Sadira walking several paces to the noble’s left and swinging her cane as if it were any normal walking stick. As he approached, Agis could see that the templar, Caro, and the half-giants all faced the colonnade, their backs turned toward him and Sadira. So tightly was their attention focused on the small courtyard that they never noticed him and the sorceress.

Agis and Sadira had closed to within fifty yards when the templar motioned the half-giants into the colonnade.

“Attack now!” Agis said, anticipating it would be difficult enough to flush out the templars and half-giants already inside the colonnade without allowing more to join them.

The noble whipped his arm toward the templar. The dagger separated from his wrist, leaving a bare stump behind. As it streaked toward its target, Agis kept his arm pointed at the man’s head. To him, the cold steel still felt as though it were attached to his arm, and he was guiding the weapon’s flight just as though he were using his hand to plunge it into his victim’s back.

The dagger slipped into the base of the templar’s skull. In his wrist, Agis felt the scrape of steel against bone. A warm liquid enveloped the blade as it entered the man’s brain.

Agis broke the connection. He had little interest in experiencing a man’s death from the viewpoint of a weapon.

The templar fell forward, dying before he hit the ground and probably not aware of it. Caro, who had been talking to the man, stared at the body in confusion.

Sadira’s attack was more spectacular. She pointed the cane at the two half-giants, then spoke two words Ktandeo had once uttered when he used it: “Nok” and “Ghostfire.”

The obsidian orb flared a brilliant orange, then a thunderous boom rocked the field. A stream of fiery light shot from the cane and enveloped the two half-giants. Agis did not see what happened next, for in the same instant he felt a cold hand reach inside him and draw away a portion of his life energy. It was a feeling similar to the one he had experienced when Ktandeo used the cane, but many times stronger.

A tremendous shudder ran through the senator’s body. His knees buckled, then he crashed through a brittle rockstem formation and pitched face-first onto the ground. He rolled onto his side and looked toward Sadira, but otherwise he felt too nauseous to move.

The sorceress had sunk to her knees and was holding Ktandeo’s cane in both hands, staring at it with a look of indignation and confused astonishment. A faint scarlet light glimmered from the depths of the black pommel, squirming and crawling over the surface as if it were alive. The scarlet gleam slowly faded, and Sadira’s body swayed uncertainly. When the red light disappeared entirely, she toppled forward into a coppery fan of rockstem.

Agis forced himself to his knees and looked toward the mansion. Caro was staring at the ground where the half-giants had been standing only a moment before. The noble took his horrified expression as a sign that they would not have to worry about those two half-giants, at least.

Finding the strength to crawl to the sorceress’s side, Agis found her curled into a ball and gasping for breath. Her skin was as pale as bone, her face was haggard, and the luster was gone from her amber hair. Her eyes were focused on the old man’s cane, which lay in front of her.

The noble put a hand under her elbow. “Sadira? Can you hear me?”

The half-elf’s gaze slowly shifted to Agis’s face. She cried out in shock.

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she gasped.

Agis helped her to her knees. She continued to stare at him. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

Sadira shook her head and seemed to return to her senses. “No. Everything’s fine,” she said, brushing the hair around his temples. “You don’t see any gray streaks in my hair, do you?”

“No, of course not. Why?” Agis had no sooner asked the question than the answer occurred to him. He looked at the black-pommeled cane in shock. “That thing turned my hair gray?” he gasped.

“Just a few streaks, around the temples and the top of your head,” Sadira replied defensively. “It makes you look distinguished.”

Agis heard heavy footsteps approaching. He looked up to see a large mul dressed only in a breechcloth. Like all muls, this one had small, pointed ears, was completely bald, and below the neck appeared to be nothing but bulging muscles. He was unusually handsome for a man-dwarf, for his rugged features were generally well-proportioned and appealing. He had a sturdy brow with dark, expressive eyes, a proud straight nose, and a powerful, firmly set jaw.

Agis was about to ask Sadira if she knew the mul when the half-elf struggled to her feet. “Rikus!” she said, opening her arms to hug him as he rushed to her.

As they kissed, the noble winced inwardly. Though Sadira had made no secret of her feelings for the famous gladiator, Agis had not expected to meet him so soon-and he was certainly not prepared to deal with the jealousy he was experiencing.

After Sadira finally removed her lips from the mul’s, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

Rikus smiled at her, then, giving Agis a wary glance, leaned close to her ear and whispered. Feeling as though he were intruding, Agis rose to his feet and looked away.

Behind the gladiator, two women also approached from the colonnade. One was a full human almost as husky as the champion himself. She had pale, smooth skin and a full, firm shape. The other was the size of a child, with a head of wild hair and a wiry figure. Trapped between the two women was Agis’s manservant, Caro.

“We don’t have to keep secrets from Agis,” Sadira said, taking the noble’s arm and standing between him and Rikus. “He knows all there is to know about me.”

“Is that so?” Rikus asked, raising an eyebrow at the senator.

Sadira smiled coyly and let the mul’s question drop. “Rikus escaped Tithian’s slave pits to warn me about Caro,” she said, turning to the senator.

“That was very courageous,” Agis offered, uncertain as to whether he should greet the gladiator with the traditional double handclasp of the higher classes or dispense with it, as would have been appropriate with any other slave. He decided instead to wait for the mul to take the initiative. “You needn’t have troubled yourself, Rikus. We’re already aware of Caro’s treachery, and your escape comes at a most unfortunate time.”

The mul bared his teeth. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, I assure you,” Agis said, raising his hands reassuringly. “It’s just that Sadira is safe with me, and you would have been more use to us where you were.”

Rikus reached out and grabbed the sorceress’s arm. “Well, now she’s safe with me,” he said. “I warn you, if you try to follow us, I’ll kill you.”

Sadira pulled free of the mul’s grasp. “Rikus, where do you think you’re taking me?”

The gladiator frowned. “We’re escaping,” he said. “You’re coming with Neeva and Anezka and me to the mountains.”

“I don’t need to escape!” the half-elf said. “Agis set me free. Besides, there’s someplace he and I have to go.”

Rikus’s face showed his disappointment. “Free?” the mul echoed, half-dazed. “He set you free, and you’re still with him?”

Sadira squeezed the mul’s hand and rose onto her toes to kiss him on the cheek. “It’s not forever, Rikus,” she said. “I told you, he and I have someplace to go.”

Rikus studied Agis, then returned his attention to Sadira. “We’ll come with you.”

“Thanks for offering, but we can get along fine ourselves,” Agis said.

“I wasn’t asking permission,” the mul insisted. “We’re going with you.”

“Rikus has a right to go along,” Sadira said, giving Agis an imploring smile.

“We’re going to have enough problems without Tithian’s slavehunters chasing us alongside his templars,” Agis said.

Sadira shook her head. “What’s the difference?” she asked. “Being hunted is being hunted. Besides, it won’t hurt to have three gladiators along, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Anezka could take us to Nok, whoever he is.”

The two women escorting Caro arrived at the gathering, putting an end to the debate. The blond, who Agis guessed to be Rikus’s well-known partner Neeva, glanced at Sadira’s grip on the mul’s hand and sighed.

Without commenting on the affectionate hold, she turned her attention to Agis. “This belongs to you, I think,” she said, shoving the aged dwarf at him. At the same time, the halfling held out a square crystal of green olivine, and Neeva added, “He’s a thief as well as a traitor. Anezka caught him trying to slip this into his pocket.”

Agis took the green crystal from the halfling. “This doesn’t belong to me,” he said, examining it closely.

The noble was startled by the sound of Tithian’s voice in his ears. “How many times must I tell you to hold the crystal away from your eyes?”

Raising an eyebrow, Agis obeyed the command. A tiny image of Tithian’s face appeared inside the crystal. As the high templar’s sharp features came into focus, his jaw slackened. “Agis?”

The noble nodded. “Yes, Tithian. It’s me.”

“How did you get Caro’s crystal?” Tithian asked. “You’re supposed to be trapped inside the Temple of the Ancients!”

“We escaped, no thanks to you,” Agis said bitterly. In his peripheral vision, he could see everyone except Caro staring at him as if he were mad.

“Didn’t I warn you that I wasn’t proposing a truce?” Tithian demanded defensively. “If you’ll recall, I did tell you to watch yourself.”

Though Agis had to agree, he was far from pleased with his friend. “I suppose that justifies using me to hunt for the Alliance?”

“You’re the one who involved himself in the revolt,” Tithian countered. “Don’t blame me if that causes you trouble.”

“I suppose what you showed me about the obsidian balls and pyramid was just bait?” the senator asked.

“No. It was real enough,” the high templar said. Though it was difficult to read facial expressions on the tiny image in the crystal, Agis thought Tithian appeared frightened. “Tell me, how did the Veiled Ones receive the news?”

“Why should I tell you anything?” Agis demanded.

“Because my offer still stands,” Tithian replied.

“Forgive me if I seem skeptical.”

“You can’t afford to dismiss me lightly,” the high templar said. “You have no idea what I’ve done on your behalf. Kalak knows about your adventures with the Veiled Alliance. If I hadn’t used you, you’d be dead by now!”

“I’m gratified by your thoughtfulness,” Agis noted sarcastically.

“If you have Caro’s crystal, you must know that Rikus and Neeva escaped and went to your estate to look for Sadira.” Tithian raised a single finger into view. “This is how many days it would take me to track them down. As you can see, they’re still free. I’ve kept their absence a secret and didn’t send out any trackers or cilops. I even had the guards who found their empty cell killed.”

This last detail convinced Agis that his old friend was telling the truth, for it seemed exactly the sort of ruthless thing the high templar would do to protect a secret.

“Whatever the Veiled Alliance wants with my gladiators is still possible,” Tithian continued. “No one knows they’re gone except me and my most trusted subordinate.”

“That’s all very nice,” Agis replied, truly relieved that no slavehunters would be hounding them into the mountains. “But you’re still hunting down the Alliance with all your resources. Where do you stand?”

“Wherever my footing is the most solid at a given moment,” Tithian answered frankly. “I’m trapped in the middle. If I don’t make progress against the king’s foes, Kalak will kill me. At the same time, I’m terrified of whatever he has planned for the ziggurat games.”

“So you’d be willing to assassinate him?” Agis asked, deciding to see just how far his friend would go.

“It can’t be done,” Tithian countered.

“If it could?” Agis pressed.

Inside the crystal, Tithian closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he said, “I wouldn’t prevent someone from trying.”

Agis smiled. “That’s all I need to know,” he said, moving his hand over the crystal.

“Wait!” Tithian shouted. The senator removed his hand, and the high templar smiled. “For me to play along with you until this attack on Kalak succeeds, I need to know the location of the third and final bone amulet inside the ziggurat.”

“I knew we couldn’t trust you,” Agis sighed.

“That’s hardly true,” Tithian noted. “You can trust me to take care of myself. Just be certain that your side always offers me what I seek.” The high templar paused and tapped his chin in thought. “You’d best have Sadira let Those Who Wear the Veil know that it is in their best interest to reveal the location of the amulet. You’ll figure out how to get the information to me somehow.”

Without offering a reply, Agis closed his fist over the green gem. The noble explained what had iust passed between him and Tithian, then returned the stone to Caro.

“It might be best to let Tithian know about the amulets,” Sadira ventured. “I know where the three were hidden. Could you tell the high templar, Caro?” When the dwarf nodded, she quickly told him where the magical amulets had been secreted. “They weren’t very powerful anyway,” she concluded with a shrug. “Just a few wards to stall the king’s works.”

At last Agis turned to his servant. “How long have you been Tithian’s spy?” he asked gently.

The dwarf looked away, his withered lips quivering with fear or regret-Agis could not tell which. “Not long, only since your slaves were confiscated,” Caro said. “The high templar sent me back to you. He promised to give me my freedom after the games.”

“And your focus?” Agis asked. “It never changed?”

Caro shook his head. “No. Until the moment I broke it, it was to serve you and the Asticles family.”

“Why did you give that up?” Neeva asked.

Caro met the woman’s gaze evenly. “I would have died on the ziggurat, and I didn’t want my life to end without a taste of freedom.”

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Caro,” Agis said, a deep sense of regret welling inside his breast. “If I had realized how much your freedom meant, I would have granted it gladly.”

Caro looked at Agis. “I don’t need your sympathy,” he said bitterly. “Just kill me and be done with it.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be so anxious to die,” Rikus said. “Won’t you come back as a banshee?”

The old dwarf looked at Agis, then a crooked grin crossed his lips. “That’s right,” he said, his black eyes sparkling with bitterness. “I’ll come back to haunt the Asticles estate-the site of my failure.”

“Then it will be quite some time before we meet again, I hope,” Agis said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rikus asked.

“Every man is born with a desire for freedom in his breast, just as he is born with a desire for food and drink. Anyone who has ever kept slaves knows this.”

“As does any slave,” Rikus said.

“Depriving a man of freedom is like depriving him of food and water,” Agis said, his gaze still fixed on Caro’s withered face. “If a man has no food or water, his body dies a lingering death. If he has no freedom, it is his spirit that dies.”

“So?” Rikus demanded. “What noble cares about his slave’s spirit or his life?”

“I do!” Agis replied hotly, thumping his own chest. “I’ve never taken a slave’s life!”

“Then you are a rare slaveholder,” Sadira said.

Agis looked to the half-elf. “Perhaps, but no better than the others. Now I see that my philosophy merely made me a hypocrite. That’s why the wraith wouldn’t allow me into the Crimson Shrine.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Sadira asked, her pale eyes fixed on his.

Agis turned to the ancient dwarf. “Caro, I have no right to ask anything of you,” he said, unfastening the purse attached to his belt. “Still, I would like you to perform one last service for the Asticles house. Go to the slaves that remain in my pens. Tell them they’re free to go or stay as they please.”

The dwarf’s face showed his surprise. “And me?”

“Go and enjoy your freedom.”

Taking the purse Agis offered, the dwarf walked away without a word to his former master. As he watched Caro trudge along under the blistering sun, Agis realized how little his gesture must have meant to one who had lost his whole life to servitude. Perhaps there would be others like Caro he could save from a slave’s life; Agis let that hope assuage his stinging conscience, but only for a little while.