“Now now,” said Haath, much amused, “bad kitty,” and swept a claw at her.
Rhiow said the word that would activate the shield-spell she had been carrying—and the bolt that caught her struck straight through the shield and threw her on her back, burning in her bones so that she could do little but lie on the ground and writhe in pain. “Indeed,” Haath said, “you see that my Lord has taught me well. He wrested the power for me from those who would have kept it jealously for themselves and their chosen puppets. I am his chosen one, His Sixth Claw. And as for this—” He looked scornfully at Ith. “He knows his master in me. He has no power. I have passed my Ordeaclass="underline" he barely knows what his was supposed to be. Not that he will have a chance to find out. I am my People’s wizard. There will be no other.”
The pain was wearing off enough now for Rhiow to stagger to her feet again, licking her nose. This is why Ith was sent to us, she thought. And Arhu to him… to prepare him for this competition. This is his opposite number. There’s always someone else to argue the opposite side of a Choice, for no Choice would be valid without it.
’This is a kinship of individuals!” Rhiow shouted, putting her shield back in place. “Not a monopoly! Not a tyranny of power! There’s always room for more wizards.”
“Not in this world,” Haath said, “and not in the new world to be, which we will bring. There will shortly be something new under the Sun.”
Ith was still crouched on the black floor, head down, fore-claws clenched on the stone, as if unable to stand, even, let alone to make any Choice for his whole people. Do something, Rhiow whispered into his mind. Do something! Try!
But he could not hear her. All he could hear was Haath, that voice curling into his brain and shutting everything else out, shutting him away from his power.
“And why should he hear anything else?” Haath said, stepping closer, leaning over Ith and grinning dreadfully. “I am his Lord, I am his Leader! I would have brought him up into the light, into the Sun, in my good time … but now it is too late. Coming down here in company with you, he has enacted rebellion. It is too late for him: none of our people are allowed to do such a thing. He must suffer the fate that he has brought upon himself, and later, his name and his fate will be used to frighten hatchlings. His hide will be hung from some high spot, to show what happens to those who defy the Great One’s will.” He bowed to the mountainous shape coiled around the trunk of the Tree.
Rhiow, her tail lashing, looked at Haath, then turned away, turned her attention back toward the freezing cold eyes in that beautiful, gleaming-dark head. “Fairest and Fallen,” she said, “Lone Power, Old Serpent, and sa’Rrahh among our People: from the Powers That Be, and from the One, I bring you this word. Leave this place and this universe, or be displaced by force.”
It simply looked at her, not even bothering to laugh now. Rhiow stood her ground, and tried not to look as if she were bluffing. She knew of no wizardry sufficient to move the Lone One from a place it had invested in such power.
I know a spell, Saash said.
I would prefer not destroying a whole species if we can avoid it! Rhiow said.
If we can avoid it. But there are a couple of other possibilities I want to explore.
You do that. Meanwhile— Ith! Rhiow said silently. Ith! Get off your tail and do something! This is your chance— stand up and tell him so! You have power—try to use it!
He is the Lord of our people, Ith said with great difficulty. Till now, I never saw him, but—now—I thought that perhaps, but—his power—it is too great, I cannot—
Rhiow’s hackles rose. I’d hoped Arhu would have him ready for whatever he has to do, she thought. But he’s not going to rise to the occasion. I’m just going to have to lead by example.
She took a stride forward, opened her mouth to speak—
“All right,” Arhu said, walking forward stifflegged. “That’s enough. You think I don’t feel you in his head, hurting him? Taking his thoughts away? He can’t stop you, but I think I can. Get out of his head, Haath! I remember when you tried to do that to me. I couldn’t stop you myself, lizard-face, not the first time; when you found you couldn’t completely fry my brains, you sent in the rats to get rid of me the easy way. But it didn’t work.” He was stalking closer, lips wrinkled back, fangs showing. “And when the gates opened, and you showed up on my turf, I showed you a little something. I’ve killed you before. I’ll do it again, and I’ll keep on doing it until I get it right.”
“You will never get it right,” Haath said, backing just a little, starting to circle. “I can never die. It is my Gift from the Great One.”
“Yeah, I bet it is,” Arhu said. “He’s just full of little presents, isn’t He? Let’s find out how yours stands up to a little wear and tear.”
He launched himself at Haath.
Down they went together, kicking and rolling. Rhiow was surprised to see nothing more wizardly being used at first, but a second later she thought she knew why: there was a spell-damper all around Haath—not quite a shield, but a place where spells would not work… and Haath had not counted on Arhu wanting to go paw-to-claw with him. Arhu, though, had probably known: the Eye had its uses. And he may have seen something else as welclass="underline" something Rhiow saw only now, when she turned—
—Saash crouching down by the catenary, leaning down over the “bank” … and dabbling one paw down into the ravening white fire.
What in Iau’s name are you—!
Don’t ask, It’ll hear, Saash said. Here goes nothing—
Abruptly the white flame running in the conduit streaked up her paw and downreaching foreleg, up around her—not quite running over her hide, but a scant inch above it. Saash was shielded, but the kind of shield she was generating at the moment made Rhiow’s look like wet tissue paper by comparison; to judge by the behavior of that white fire, now flowing up and around her more and more quickly, she had a second shield above it, holding it in place, holding it in. Swiftly, almost between one breath and the next, Saash became a shape completely sheathed in burning white: a statue, a library lion with her head up, watching, with one paw hanging down into the catenary, the whiteness of the fire around her growing more intense with every breath. A conduit, Rhiow thought in mixed admiration and horror— and fear. Or a storage battery… or both. How long can she—oh, Saash, don’t—
Saash stood up and began slowly, silently, to walk toward where Arhu and Haath were fighting; very carefully she went, like an ehhif carrying a full cup or bucket, intent on not spilling any of the contents. Haath and Arhu were up on their hind legs now, boxing at one another; as Saash paused, Arhu threw himself at Haath again, hard, and took him down, going for the throat, missing. Behind them, very quickly, Saash moved forward in one smooth rush—