against us all!”
“As you have just observed,” said Arunis, “I could not very well leave the Stone unguarded aboard the Chathrand . And why not come in trance to the Orfuin Club, this place where all worlds meet so easily—even the worlds of our dreams?”
“You should have come in the flesh to hand over the Stone, ” growled the stocky woman, “as you swore to do two centuries ago.”
The black man looked at Arunis with contempt. “If you do not track this mage to his ship and kill him, Macadra,” he said, “you are the greatest fool who ever lived.”
“We would not be talking at all if he had already mastered the Stone,” said Macadra. “Say it, monster. What is it you want from the Ravens?”
Arunis walked to the table and took the parchment from beneath the paperweight. “You are quite right,” he said. “I cannot yet use the Nilstone, any more than you or Ramachni or any other since the time of Erithusmé. But you have misunderstood my purpose. I have never wished to make it mine. No, I seek only to finish what I have begun, what you sent me to accomplish so long ago—the ruin of Arqual and the Mzithrin, so that when Bali Adro’s ships next assault the Nelluroq, they will find the whole of the Northern world hobbled and broken, and ready for their conquest. And you Ravens, the true power behind Bali Adro—why, you shall shape this world to your liking. One rule, one law, one Empire spanning both shores of the Ruling Sea, and you at its apex. I am making your dream a reality, Macadra. But to complete it I need the Chathrand awhile longer—and the Nilstone.”
Macadra smiled, venomous. “Of course you do.”
Arunis held up the parchment. “This is no mirage,” he said. “Take it, read it.”
The black man leaned forward. “That’s a Carsa Carsuria . An Imperial decree.”
“Give me a new crew for the Great Ship,” said Arunis. “A dlömic crew, with a dlömic captain. The humans nearly destroyed her on the first crossing. They allowed her to be infested with rats and ixchel. They let a lone Mzithrini gunship come close to sinking her. They should never have been trusted with such a vessel. Take this to Bali Adro City. Make your slave-Emperor sign it, and dispatch a crew to Masalym with all possible haste.”
“Don’t, Macadra!” hissed the stocky woman. “He’ll just slip away again! Don’t let him!”
Arunis closed his eyes a moment. “Your servants prattle like children. I have no desire to slip away . Indeed I hoped to persuade you to sail with me. You could be of great help with the Red Storm—I know how intensely you have studied it, Macadra—and besides, you could keep your eye on the Stone.”
The black man laughed. “Sail with him on the Chathrand . Just walk aboard that spell-ridden hulk, straight into his lair.”
“With a crew that answers to your Emperor,” said Arunis. “As for the humans: simply hold them in Masalym until the charm breaks and the Shaggat returns to life. After that they are of no consequence.”
Still Macadra did not reach for the parchment. “We help you cross the Ruling Sea again,” she said. “We guide you through the time-trap of the Storm, and let you take your Shaggat to Gurishal. He rallies his worshippers, leads them into a doomed but damaging civil war inside the Mzithrin. And when the Mzithrin stands gasping and wounded over the corpse of the Shaggat’s rebellion, their old foe Arqual strikes them from behind, presumably—”
“Unquestionably,” said Arunis. “Their monarch dreams of it night and day.”
“As well he should!” shouted Macadra. “That is where your plan collapses. It will take us two decades to build a fleet that could brave the Nelluroq and seize the Northern world. How do you propose to keep the Arqualis from using that time to make a fortress of those lands?”
For a moment Arunis looked at her in silence. Then he took her arm and drew her toward the tavern door, not far from where Orfuin
“As you have just observed,” said Arunis, “I could not very well leave the Stone unguarded aboard the Chathrand . And why not come in trance to the Orfuin Club, this place where all worlds meet so easily—even the worlds of our dreams?”
“You should have come in the flesh to hand over the Stone, ” growled the stocky woman, “as you swore to do two centuries ago.”
The black man looked at Arunis with contempt. “If you do not track this mage to his ship and kill him, Macadra,” he said, “you are the greatest fool who ever lived.”
“We would not be talking at all if he had already mastered the Stone,” said Macadra. “Say it, monster. What is it you want from the Ravens?”
Arunis walked to the table and took the parchment from beneath the paperweight. “You are quite right,” he said. “I cannot yet use the Nilstone, any more than you or Ramachni or any other since the time of Erithusmé. But you have misunderstood my purpose. I have never wished to make it mine. No, I seek only to finish what I have begun, what you sent me to accomplish so long ago—the ruin of Arqual and the Mzithrin, so that when Bali Adro’s ships next assault the Nelluroq, they will find the whole of the Northern world hobbled and broken, and ready for their conquest. And you Ravens, the true power behind Bali Adro—why, you shall shape this world to your liking. One rule, one law, one Empire spanning both shores of the Ruling Sea, and you at its apex. I am making your dream a reality, Macadra. But to complete it I need the Chathrand awhile longer—and the Nilstone.”
Macadra smiled, venomous. “Of course you do.”
Arunis held up the parchment. “This is no mirage,” he said. “Take it, read it.”
The black man leaned forward. “That’s a Carsa Carsuria . An Imperial decree.”
“Give me a new crew for the Great Ship,” said Arunis. “A dlömic crew, with a dlömic captain. The humans nearly destroyed her on the first crossing. They allowed her to be infested with rats and ixchel. They let a lone Mzithrini gunship come close to sinking her. They should never have been trusted with such a vessel. Take this to Bali Adro City. Make your slave-Emperor sign it, and dispatch a crew to Masalym with all possible haste.”
“Don’t, Macadra!” hissed the stocky woman. “He’ll just slip away again! Don’t let him!”
Arunis closed his eyes a moment. “Your servants prattle like children. I have no desire to slip away . Indeed I hoped to persuade you to sail with me. You could be of great help with the Red Storm—I know how intensely you have studied it, Macadra—and besides, you could keep your eye on the Stone.”
The black man laughed. “Sail with him on the Chathrand . Just walk aboard that spell-ridden hulk, straight into his lair.”
“With a crew that answers to your Emperor,” said Arunis. “As for the humans: simply hold them in Masalym until the charm breaks and the Shaggat returns to life. After that they are of no consequence.”
Still Macadra did not reach for the parchment. “We help you cross the Ruling Sea again,” she said. “We guide you through the time-trap of the Storm, and let you take your Shaggat to Gurishal. He rallies his worshippers, leads them into a doomed but damaging civil war inside the Mzithrin. And when the Mzithrin stands gasping and wounded over the corpse of the Shaggat’s rebellion, their old foe Arqual strikes them from behind, presumably—”
“Unquestionably,” said Arunis. “Their monarch dreams of it night and day.”
“As well he should!” shouted Macadra. “That is where your plan collapses. It will take us two decades to build a fleet that could brave the Nelluroq and seize the Northern world. How do you propose to keep the Arqualis from using that time to make a fortress of those lands?”
For a moment Arunis looked at her in silence. Then he took her arm and drew her toward the tavern door, not far from where Orfuin
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