make it burn forever now.’ He paused. ‘There are others we
also hunt, though,’ he added. ‘We do not want to frighten them
away so that they will be harder to hunt. Can Ghnomb put the
one we have found into No-Time? You can burn it always there.
When it burns in No-Time, the others of its herd will not smell
the smoke or hear the crying out with hurt, and so they will not
run away.’ ‘Your thought is good, Ulath-from-Thalesia,’ Khwaj agreed.
“I will talk with Ghnomb about this. He will make it so that the
one who burns always burns in the time which does not move. which one of
these should I burn?’
“that one,’ Ulath replied, pointing at BAron Parok.
Duke Milanis was turning from the window when he suddenly
stopped, becoming a statue in mid-stride.
Baron Parok continued his restless pacing. ‘We’re going to
have to start taking extra precautions,’ he said, not yet realizing
that the’ men around him were no longer moving. Then he
turned and almost bumped into the exhausted messenger from
Natayos. ‘Get out of my way, idiot!’ he snapped.
The man did not move.
‘I told you to take a message to Zalasta, ‘ Parok raged. ‘Why
are you still here?’ He struck the messenger across the face and
cried out in pain as his hand hit something harder than stone.
He looked around wildly. ‘What’s the matter with all of you?’
he demanded in a shrill voice.
“What did it say?’ Khwaj’s voice was dreadful.
Parok gaped at the vast Troll-God, shrieked, and ran for the
door.
‘It does not understand that it is now in No-Time,’ Ulath
replied in Trollish.
It should know why it is being punished,’ Khwaj decided.
will it understand if you talk to it in the bird-noises of the
man-things?’
‘I’ll make it understand, ‘Ulat hpromised.
‘It is good that you will. Speak to it.’
Parok was hammering futilely on the immovable door.
That won’t do you any good, old boy,’ Ulath urbanely advised
the terrified Dacite nobleman. ‘Things have definitely taken a
turn for the worse for you, Baron. This large fellow with the
smoke coming out of his ears is the Troll-God Khwaj. He disapproves
of your abduction of Queen Ehlana.’
Who are you?’ Parok half-screamed. ‘What’s going on here?’
“you’ve been brought to the palace of punishment, Baron,”
Tynian advised him. ‘As my friend here just explained, Khwaj
is quite put out with you. Trolls are a very moralistic sort. Things
that we’ve come to take in stride – abductions, poisonings, and
holding people for ransom – upset them enormously. There is
a small advantage, though. You’re going to live forever, Baron. You’ll
never, ever die.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You’ll see.’
‘Does it understand now?’ Khwaj demanded impatiently.
‘It is our thought that it does,’ Ulath replied in Trollish.
‘Good.’ Khwaj implacably advanced on the cringing Dacite,
extending one vast paw. Then he clapped it down on top of
Parok’s head. ‘Burn!’ he growled.
Baron Parok shrieked.
Then his face seemed to split, and incandescent fire came
spurting out through his skin. His doublet smoked for an instant
and then flashed into ashes.
He shrieked again. His form was still the form of a man, but it was a form etched
in flame. The Baron burned, unconsumed, and he danced and
howled in agony. Khwaj struck the immovable door with one huge paw, and
the door burst outward in flaming chunks. ‘Go!’ he roared. ‘Run
Run forever, and burn always!’
The flaming Dacite fled shrieking.
The town of Arjun stood frozen in that eternal instant of perpetual
now. The citizens, like statues, stood frozen stock-still,
unaware of the burning wraith that ran through their silent
streets. They did not hear its agonized screams. They did not
see it flee toward the lake-shore.
Baron Parok, all ablaze, ran, trailing greasy smoke. He reached
the docks and fled in flames out a long pier stretching into the
dark waters of the Sea of Arjun. He did not pause when he
reached the end of the pier, but plunged off, yearning toward
the quenching water. But, like the moment itself, the surface of
the lake was unyielding and as hard as diamond. The wraith of
flame howled in frustration, kneeling on the glittering surface
and hammering on it, pleading to be let in, begging to drown
in the blessed coolness just beyond reach. Then Parok leaped
to his feet, driven by the Troll-God’s awful command. Shrieking
still in agony and unutterable loneliness, the man-shape of
eternal flame ran out across the dark crystal surface, receding
incandescent until it was no more than a single bright
spark far out on the night-darkened lake. And its lost wail of
pain and endless solitude came echoing back to the incurious
shore.
‘I wish Sparhawk would find his way home again,’ Talen nuttered
as he and Stragen once again climbed the rickety stairs to
the loft. ‘We’ve got some fairly important information, and
there’s no way to pass it on to the others.’
‘There’s nothing we can do about it right now,’ Stragen
told him. ‘Let’s see how Valash reacts to this story you
cooked up. Keep it sort of vague until we see which way he
jumps.’
‘And then will you teach me how to pick a pocket?’ Talen
asked with overly-feigned enthusiasm.
‘All right,’ Stragen sighed. ‘I apologize. I’ll concede that you
know what you’re doing.’
‘Oh, thank you, Vymer!’ Talen gushed. ‘Thank you, thank
you!’
‘You’ve been spending too much time with Princess Danae,’
Stragen muttered sourly. ‘I hope she does marry you. You
deserve it.’
‘Bite your tongue, Stragen. I can still run faster than she
can.’
‘Running doesn’t always help, Reldin. I thought I could run,
too, but Melidere cut my legs out from under me with a single
word.’
‘Oh? Which word was that?’
‘Profit, my young friend. She waved unlimited amounts of
gold in front of my face.’
‘You sold out, Stragen,’ Talen accused. ‘You betrayed every
bachelor in the world for money.’
‘Wouldn’t you have? We’re not talking about a few farthings
here. ‘
‘It’s the principle of the thing,’ Talen replied loftily. ‘I wouldn’t
sell out for money.’
‘I don’t think it’ll be money that Danae’s going to offer you,
my innocent young friend. If you start running right now, you
might escape, but I sort of doubt it. I knew your father, and
there’s a certain weakness in your family. Danae’s going to get
you, Talen. You don’t have a chance.’
‘Could we talk about something else? This is a very distressing
sort of subject.’
Stragen laughed, and they went through the patched door at
the top of the stairs.
Valash sat in the faint light of his single candle listening with
a look of pained resignation on his face as Ogerajin babbled and
drooled a long, strung-out series of disconnected phrases.
‘He doesn’t seem to be getting any better,’ Stragen observed
quietly when he and Talon joined the two at the table.
‘He won’t get better, Vymer,’ Valash sighed. ‘i’ve seen this
particular disease run its course before. Don’t get too close to
him. He’s virulently infectious at this stage.’
‘I certainly wouldn’t want to catch what he’s got,’ Talen
shuddered. ‘Do you have something for me?’ Valash asked.
‘i’m not going to swear to this, Master Valash,’ Talen said
cautiously. ‘The fellows I picked it up from weren’t any too
reliable. You might want to pass it on to Panem-Doa, though.
It concerns them rather directly, so they might want to take a
few extra precautions.’
‘Go on,’ Valash said.
‘Well, I overheard a couple of Arjuni soldiers talking in a
tavern down by the waterfront – real Arjuni soldiers, I mean
not the ones Lord Scarpa’s recruited. They were talking about
some orders that just came in from the capital at Arjuna. From
what I was able to gather, they’ve been ordered to prepare for
an extended campaign out in the jungle. They think they’re going
to be mounting an attack on Lord Scarpa’s camp at Panem-Doa.’
‘impossible!’ Valash snorted.
‘They were saying that the orders came from King Rakya himself.
The message had been sent to their officers, of course, so
they probably garbled it, but they’re absolutely convinced that
the Arjuni army’s going to attack Scarpa’s forces. I just thought
you ought to know.’
‘Those soldiers were drunk, Reldin. King Rakya is our ally.’
‘Really? What an amazing thing. He ought to let his troops
know about it, then. The two I was listening to were positively
drooling about all the loot they thought they were going to carry
out of Panem-Doa.’
‘The queen is coming to Panem-Doa,’ Ogerajin suddenly sang
in a wheezy voice to the tune of an old nursery song,
‘the queen is coming to Panem-Doa.’ Then he began to cackle in a highpitched
laugh. A look of sudden chagrin crossed Valash’s face. ‘Calm yourself,
Master Ogerajin,’ He said, giving Stragen and Talen a