“Uh, Your Honors,” I began, feeling obliged to try talking them out of it and wishing I were Luke, who just might be able to swing such a feat.
“This is a perfect time to employ an impartial arbitrator, and I just happen to be uniquely qualified if you will but reflect-“
The golden circlet that I knew to be Ghostwheel suddenly dropped over Nayda’s head, lengthening itself downward into a tube. Ghost had fitted himself within the orbits of Mandor’s spheres and must somehow have insulated himself against whatever forces they were exerting, for they slowed, wobbled, and finally dropped to the floor, two striking the wall ahead of me and one rolling down the stairway ahead and to the right.
The Signs of the Pattern and the Logrus began to advance then, and I crawled quickly to keep ahead of the Pattern.
“Don’t come any closer, fellows,” Ghostwheel suddenly announced. “There’s no telling what I might do if you make me even more nervous than I already am.”
Both Power Signs halted in their advances. From around the corner to the left, up ahead, I heard Droppa’s drunken voice, raised in some bawdy ballad, coming this way. Then it grew silent. Several moments passed, and he began singing “Rock of Ages” in a far, far weaker voice. Then this, too, was cut off, followed by a heavy thud and the sound of breaking glass.
It occurred to me that I should be able, from a distance such as this, to extend my awareness into the Jewel. But I was uncertain what effects I might then be able to produce with the thing, considering the fact that none of the four principals involved in the confrontation was human.
I felt the beginnings of a Trump contact. “Yes?” I whispered.
Dworkin’s voice came to me then.
“Whatever control you may have over the thing,” he said, “use it to keep the Jewel away from the Logrus.”
Just then a crackly voice, shifting in pitch and gender from syllable to syllable, emerged from the red tunnel. “Return the Eye of Chaos,” it said. “The Unicorn took it from the Serpent when they fought, in the beginning. It was stolen. Return it. Return it.”
The blue face I had seen above the Pattern did not materialize, but the voice I’d heard at that time responded, “It was paid for with blood and pain. Title passed.”
“The Jewel of Judgment and the Eye of Chaos or Eye of the Serpent are different names for the same stone?” I said.
“Yes,” Dworkin replied.
“What happens if the Serpent gets its eye back?” I inquired.
“The universe will probably come to an end.”
“Oh,” I observed.
“What am I bid for the thing?” Ghost asked.
“Impetuous construct,” the voice of the Pattern intoned.
“Rash artifact,” wailed the Logrus.
“Save the compliments,” Ghost said, “and give me something I want.”
“I could tear it from you,” the Pattern responded.
“I could have you apart and it away in an instant,” stated the Logrus.
“But neither of you will do it,” Ghost answered, “because such a focusing of your attention and energies would leave either of you vulnerable to the other.”
In my mind, I heard Dworkin chuckle.
“Tell me why this confrontation need take place at all,” Ghost went on, “after all this time.”
“The balance was tipped against me by recent actions of this turncoat,” the Logrus replied-a burst of fire occurring above my head, presumably to demonstrate the identity of the turncoat in question.
I smelled burning hair, and I warded the flame.
“Just a minute!” I cried. “I wasn’t given much choice in the matter!”
“But there was a choice,” wailed the Logrus, “and you made it.”
“Indeed, he did,” responded the Pattern. “But it served only to redress the balance you’d tipped in your own favor.”
“Redress? You overcompensated! Now it’s tipped in your favor! Besides, it was accidentally tipped my way, by the traitor’s father.” Another fireball followed, and I warded again. “It was not my doing.”
“You probably inspired it.”
“If you can get the Jewel to me,” Dworkin said, “I can put it out of reach of both of them until this matter is settled.”