Robert Redick - The Red wolf conspiracy

"Master," said Arunis to the Shaggat, "I keep my promises."

"No," said the Shaggat. "I take what is mine."

Suddenly his voice rose in a thunderous roar. Spittle flew from his mouth as he turned, gesturing wildly. "Bow down, sorcerer! Bow, kings, generals, all lesser princes of this world! The Shaggat is come, the Shaggat, to cleanse and claim it! Behold, I wield the Nil-stone!"

Dozens of ixchel voices began to scream. "It's true! By the hallowed names, it's true! Kill him, kill him, Pazel Pathkendle! Kill him now!"

The little people must have been hiding everywhere. But one voice-the voice of Dri in Pazel's shirt-hissed, "Not yet!"

A wall of Turachs stood between Pazel and the forge, terribly nervous, ready to stab anything that moved. Even if he wanted to, Pazel doubted he could ever reach the two men.

"Bow your heads!" screamed the Shaggat Ness.

Arunis bowed. The Shaggat's sons groveled on their bellies. Everyone else merely gaped. The Shaggat put out his hand and grasped the Nilstone. For a moment all eyes were on him.

"Now!" said Dri. "Do it! Run!"

Pazel burst into the circle, running full tilt, and dived beneath the legs of the nearest Turach. The man stabbed at him, but too late. Pazel crashed forward, stopping inches from the Shaggat's heels.

The mad king was raising the Nilstone to the sun. A roar of triumph came from his throat. Pazel reached up-and Arunis, catching sight of him, drew his knife. But before either could act the Shaggat's roar became a wail of pain.

The hand that gripped the Nilstone was dead. Hideously dead, the fingers rotted, the bones erupting through the skin. And death was running like flame up the Shaggat's arm.

Howling, the Shaggat whirled. "Betrayed! Betrayed! Kill the sorcerer, kill every-"

He broke off. A tarboy was looking him in the eye. And Pazel touched him and spoke the Master-Word.

It was like an earthquake beneath the sea. Pazel felt that it was not him but the entire world that had spoken, every part of it at once. The sun turned black, or else too bright for human eyes. Clouds in the distance were torn to shreds. But there was no wind, no waves-and already the Word was gone from his mind.

All about the deck, men stumbled in a daze. What had just happened? What had changed?

Pazel lowered his hand. Before him stood a statue of a king with one dead arm, raising his withered fist in the air. Within that fist lay the Nilstone, unchanged. But the Shaggat was no more.

Arunis looked at the statue and then whirled to face Pazel, his eyes bewildered and lost. It was as if he were seeing the tarboy for the first time-and seeing too his own impossible defeat.

"A child," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "A lowborn brat. What madness moves you, boy?"

Then Diadrelu spoke, for Pazel's ears alone. "Hold your ground. Have no fear of him. If his knife-hand moves I shall slit his throat."

Not a man stirred on the Great Ship. But one creature did: Ramachni. Moving gingerly, the black mink walked into the circle and looked up at the mage.

"The dragonlords of old had a saying, Arunis," he said. "No one fondles fire and escapes unburned. How careless you have been! You raided libraries, stole many books. You knew the Nilstone could make your Shaggat invincible. But had you read further, you would have learned that every mortal man who has touched it since the time of Erithusmй has died on the spot. For what is the Nilstone, Arunis? You have spent your life craving it. Surely you know?"

"It is the greatest weapon on earth," said Arunis.

"No," said Thasha from behind them. "It's death."

No one had heard her approach. Ramachni looked at her and nodded.

"Death given form," he said. "And none who fear death in any corner of their heart may wield it. The Fell Princes drank an enchanted wine from Agaroth, the twilit land that borders death's kingdom, before they touched the Nilstone. Drinking, they knew no fear, and so they took the stone and used it for unspeakable evil. But they had only so much wine. And you have none at all."

Ramachni shook his head. "Arunis! All your will has been bent to the unleashing of violence-a war, a warlord, this evil Nilstone. You thought to control it, as you controlled the Shaggat Ness. But we are never long the masters of the violence we unleash. In the end it always masters us."

"Reverse the spell," hissed Arunis. "Make the Shaggat flesh again. Remember that Thasha Isiq is mine to kill."

"But you will not kill her," said Ramachni.

"Will I not?" screamed the mage suddenly. "How is that? Will you stop me, weasel?"

"I already have," said Ramachni. "You see, Arunis, I did not spend my power fighting the fleshancs, as you wished me to. I spent it long before. A great deal went into teaching Pazel his Master-Words. Very much worth the trouble, as it turns out."

Pazel smiled despite himself.

"Yet two problems remained," Ramachni continued. "One was the curse on Thasha's necklace, which I could not break. Tell me, did Syrarys know that she was condemning Thasha to death when she used your silver polish?"

Arunis made no answer. Pazel saw Thasha glance suddenly across the deck, to where Lady Oggosk stood beside the captain. Pit-fire, he thought. Was the old woman trying to save Thasha when she sent her cat to steal the necklace? What's her blary game?

"The second problem," Ramachni went on, "was that so many people were willing to murder the innocent, should the Shaggat die. Not just you, but Sandor Ott, Drellarek, the Emperor himself. So I dared not kill the Shaggat, or even allow him to die."

"Then the spell can be reversed!"

"It can," said Ramachni, "but Pazel cannot do it. Nor can I, nor anyone aboard. The Shaggat will become flesh again when one soul aboard Chathrand-and I shall never tell you which-dies. It may be Thasha, or this boy before you. Or Rose, or Uskins, anyone at all. The minute that one dies, the Stone-Word shall be reversed."

"Is that the best you could do?" cried Arunis. "Let the Shaggat be stone, then, until we cross the Ruling Sea and meet his army of worshippers! He will be far less trouble! Once on Gurishal I shall no longer require these men. And I shall kill them: all six hundred, if need be. I shall find your spell-keeper!"

"And when you kill that person," said Thasha, eyes wide with understanding, "the Shaggat will turn back into flesh, and the Nil-stone will kill him. Oh, Pazel! How did you know when to speak? You were wonderful!"

"And you are without friends, Arunis," said Hercуl.

Rage clouded the sorcerer's eyes. He looked sharply at Thasha and raised his hand. "I do not have to kill her to make her suffer," he said.

Thasha's necklace gave a savage twist. She could not even scream. Her face turned crimson and tears sprang from her eyes.

Pazel's first thought was to beg the augrongs to stomp Arunis to death once and for all. But only Arunis could make the necklace stop-Ramachni had just said as much. Thasha staggered, her eyes rolling back in her head. Pazel caught her as she fell.

In the face of Eberzam Isiq, something snapped. He drew his old sword and flew at Arunis, shouting a war-cry. Just in time, Hercуl leaped into his path and dragged him aside. Arunis laughed in the old man's face.

Then they all heard it: the flat sound of metal striking stone. Arunis whirled. There was Neeps, a lump of iron in his hand, smashing the toes of the Shaggat Ness.

"We don't have to kill him to make him a cripple!" he said.

On his last word the Shaggat's big toe shattered to dust.

"Stop! Stop!" bellowed Arunis. "You shell-island scum! Very well, I release her-for now."

Thasha gulped air, writhing in Pazel's arms. Her throat was red and raw. Eberzam Isiq dropped heavily to his knees beside Pazel, and together they held her.