Our adversaries come to ground looking confused and disorientated but it doesn't take long to get their bearings as Tresius, Ixial, Casax and Tholius marshal them into order.
"Kill them!" roars Tholius again.
At that moment the ground cracks open at our feet and a river emerges in a torrent, separating us from our pursuers. By the time they collect their wits they're looking at us across fifty feet of swiftly flowing water. I laugh. A very satisfying turn of events. I saunter down to the water's edge.
"Hi, Tholius," I call. "Fancy a swim?"
Tholius is nonplussed. Ixial the Seer is untroubled.
"The river will not remain for long."
"I wouldn't count on your powers of farseeing working in here, Ixial. The magic space is very distorting, even for a man like yourself. Congratulations on your recovery. Now your legs are better you'll be able to walk up to the scaffold. Incidentally, it was rash of you to follow us. Just shows you're far too keen on gold for your own good. Do any of you have any idea how to get out of the magic space?"
From the looks of uncertainty that flit over the various faces on the other side of the river I can tell that is something they haven't considered. Our conversation is interrupted by a brief but heavy downpour of frogs.
"So, Tholius," I shout, as the last frog hops merrily away. "What's the plan?"
"Kill you," he roars back.
"Not such a bad plan, perhaps. Depends on your point of view. Another alternative would be to turn yourselves over to Captain Rallee here, and face the consequences of your illegal actions."
Tholius isn't so keen on this. He likes his own plan better. Despite their losses in the tavern, the Prefect and Casax still have plenty of armed men with them. So do Ixial the Seer and the Venerable Tresius, so they'll probably be able to carry out his wish if this river suddenly disappears. I maintain a confident front and continue to torment Tholius from the safety of our present position.
Captain Rallee scratches his head. It annoys me the way he doesn't have any grey in his hair. Mine is just as long but it is starting to look streaky. I still contend that my moustache is better than his and it always has been.
"Thraxas. Just in case we ever get out of this place alive. And just in case I don't throw you right in the slammer for having the King's gold in your possession, how about filling me in on some details? I only came to commiserate at the death of your friend. I wasn't prepared to meet half of the city's low-life and a bunch of mad monks fighting over stolen treasure else I'd have brought some men with me. I take it this is all connected to Drantaax's murder?"
"It sure is. It's a complicated affair. I'll simplify it for you. These two groups of monks are rivals. Ixial the Seer is head of the Star Temple and Tresius is head of the Cloud Temple. They fought, partly about religion but mainly about who was to be number one chariot. Living up in the mountains drives them mad, I reckon. You remember how hot it was when we held off the Niojans at the pass?"
"Never mind the Niojans at the pass. What happened with the monks?"
"They fought, mainly. And then they split in two. Both temples found themselves missing a statue. Which gave Ixial the Seer a very good idea. He'd steal the new statue Drantaax was making for Turai to put him one up on Tresius and probably make the Cloud Temple monks return to the Star Temple. And then Sarin the Merciless, who used to be Ixial's student in the martial arts, came to Ixial with an even better idea. She knew Prefect Tholius back when she was bringing dwa into the city. He was taking a pay-off to look the other way, which is standard behaviour for officials in this city, yourself excepted of course. Whether the idea was Tholius's or Sarin's I don't know, but it occurred to one of them that the gold shipments from the King's mines passed by not too far from Ixial's monastery.
"These shipments are a well-kept secret. The routes and timings are only ever discussed in magic-proof rooms lined with Red Elvish Cloth, but Prefect Tholius obviously has connections at the Palace and learned when the next one was due. He gave the details to Sarin, who passed them on to Ixial. So the Star Temple robbed the convoy, slaughtering the guards in the process.
"Then came their very good idea. Instead of disappearing into the hills with the gold where they'd have been tracked soon enough by Palace Sorcerers, they brought the gold straight to Turai and hid it inside the new statue. You realise how safe that was?"
"Yes," says the Captain, who is a smart guy. "No Sorcerer would check inside a statue of Saint Quatinius. It would be blasphemous."
"Right. The plan was to leave it there till the statue was taken out to the shrine. When the heat died down Ixial would steal it from the shrine, cut it open and take out the loot. Once he put it back together he'd have a nice pile of gold as well as a new statue. I guess he wasn't too worried about blasphemy.
"Which is where things went wrong. The Venerable Tresius had a spy in the Star Temple and he discovered what was going on and ever since then he's been after the gold and the statue for himself. The Cloud Temple made a full-scale attack on the Star Temple during which Ixial was nearly killed. He had to come to the city to get healed. By now Tresius had learned the gold was in Turai and probably in Drantaax's statue. He arrived too late to intercept it so he hired me to find it. I didn't realise that Saint Quatinius was full of gold though I knew something strange was going on."
I gaze over the river. The monks are looking back at us. Do they believe they are furthering their religion with this behaviour? Probably, if Ixial and Tresius tell them they are. A flock of silver birds flies overhead, turning gold and then white in front of our eyes. Heavenly music floats down from the sky. Fluffy rabbits emerge to play around our feet. It's cutesy time in the magic space.
"What really went wrong for Ixial and Tholius was getting involved with Sarin the Merciless. As soon as the gold was inside the statue and Ixial was lying crippled in the mountains she decided that it would be much better if she didn't have to share it around too much.
"She's a clever woman, Sarin the Merciless. Totally heartless, but sharp as an Elf's ear nonetheless. She knew that Sorcerers from the Palace and the Abode of Justice were looking for the gold. Old Hasius the Brilliant himself had been down to Drantaax's house. She couldn't load the statue on a wagon and ride out of town. She'd have been spotted right away. So she hunted around for some way of getting the gold safely away. And she hit on the notion of a magic purse. Rare items indeed, but she knew where to find one, thanks to her dwa-dealing days. She remembered that old Thalius Green Eye, who wasn't much use for Sorcery any more, was taking dwa up to the Palace in a magic purse. So she went and killed him, and stole it. And then, I think, she stole the statue, leaving some yellow flower petals to put Investigators off the scent. The Cloud Temple wear yellow flowers for ceremonial reasons. I guess that was her idea of a joke.
"And then something unusual happened. Sarin must have some shred of humanity in her miserable being because when she heard Ixial was being brought to the city to die she went back to see him. Being his student for four years might have stirred some emotion in her breast. I saw her try to kill Tresius, so she must feel something for Ixial. Sarin doesn't normally kill for anyone else's benefit. So I figure she felt something for her old teacher. Not enough to prevent her robbing him though."
"I suppose if Ixial was going to die she wasn't really robbing him, to be fair," says Makri, interrupting.
I frown at her.
"All these logic and rhetoric classes are bad for you, Makri. You should stick to being savage. Sarin practically killed you a few hours ago. Anyway, she was too smart to carry the statue in the purse when she went to see Ixial. He is a seer and might have perceived she had the gold. So she left the purse with the two men she'd hired to help her get the statue into the purse, a job she couldn't manage on her own. You could pull the purse right down over it, but you'd still need help to tip the base up. She probably told her two accomplices to disappear for a day or two and then meet her.
"Unfortunately they washed up in the Avenging Axe, which wouldn't have been a bad place to lie low if one of them hadn't happened to be a man I put in prison a few years back who was still looking for revenge. They were killed in the fight, which only brought their deaths forward a few days, because Sarin would certainly have disposed of them when she was done with them.
"That put me right in the centre of things. Once Sarin learned where the men had been killed she knew I was involved and figured I'd probably ended up with the purse. She's been after me ever since. So have the Star Temple. Whether Sarin told Ixial some tale to explain why I had the statue, or whether his powers led him to it, I don't know. Which brought the yellow monks down on my tail as well, when their spies told them what was going on."
I look down at the rabbit nestling on my toes, then up at the great comet that is now shining in the sky.
"Yes, Captain, while the Civil Guard has floundered around helplessly with no idea where the gold was, and these people have been chasing around after it, I've recovered it for the King. So don't give me the outraged bit about withholding evidence. I've solved a case that was quite likely to get you busted down to Private when you made no progress with it."
I notice Tholius from the corner of my eye. He seems to be getting closer. Much closer.
"Damn it. Why did no one tell me the river was drying up?"
"We were all fascinated by your explanation," says Makri.
"This is no time for sarcasm."
"No, I mean it, really. I love it when you work these things out."
The river is now down to about ten feet wide and the monks are starting to wade over.
"Run," says the Captain.
We run. The sun might be green but it doesn't prevent it from being as hot as Orcish hell in here. I'm soon sweating badly and panting for breath. If we can reach a forest of yellow trees we'll have some cover. I struggle to keep up with the pace. Abruptly the forest disappears. Just vanishes into thin air. Damn this magic space. I halt at the statue of Saint Quatinius.
"Attack the heretics!" I demand, pointing at the pursuing horde. The statue doesn't move. So much for that idea I reflect grimly, and carry on running.
A giant castle hoves into view in the distance.
"Make for the castle!" yells Captain Rallee.
We make for the castle. As we approach, it disappears.
"To hell with this," says Makri, unsheathing her sword and turning to face her opponents. "I'm not running any more."
"Please, Makri, not now."
Makri plants her feet firmly on the ground, her sword and her axe in her hands, waiting for our pursuers to reach us.
"Why can't you just run away like a normal person?" I demand
"It's dishonourable."
"Well how much honour was there in the Orc slave pits, for God's sake?"
"Not much. But I'm not running any more. That's that."
I sigh, and draw my sword. "Well, I'm too beat to run any further anyway. I never figured I'd be making my death stand under a green sun."
"It's turned purple."
"Or a purple one."
Unwilling to leave us to be hacked down alone, Captain Rallee and Gurd stop running and stand at our side.
"Getting too old to run," says Gurd, with a grin, which makes me remember what a good, cheerful companion he was when we were mercenaries together.
"Me too," I tell him. "And too fat. Well, we've got out of worse scrapes than this."
"Sure we have. Remember the Niojan riverboat that thought we were crocodiles?"
We bellow with laughter at the memory. I doubt we're fooling anyone. Tholius and the rest are now very close. Having combined forces and concentrated their attack I wouldn't think it'll take them too long to dispatch us. We have no cover at all and even Makri's remarkable fighting skills can't prevent the monks from encircling us and sticking us full of throwing stars. Makri is wearing only her chainmail bikini. None of us are wearing armour. We'll take plenty of them with us, but they'll win in the end.
The talking pig makes another appearance at our side. "Attack the heretics," I suggest, without much hope.
"Sorry, I'm on holiday," says the pig, and vanishes.
"What a waste of time this place is," I say, angrily. "You think we might get a dragon flying down to protect us or something like that. But no, all we get is a pig that talks about theology and then goes on holiday."
I stop speaking rubbish for a second. Something has just occurred to me.
"Makri, I just realised who really killed Drantaax."
At that moment the Venerable Tresius lands in front of me, somehow deflects my sword with the flat of his hand, and kicks me several feet in the air. It hurts. I'm bracing myself for it to hurt more on the way down when a terrific gale whips me up and blows me into a tree that has appeared from nowhere. Trees sprout up everywhere and suddenly a storm of random acts of magic makes it impossible for anyone to come to blows with anyone else. Ferocious insects of weird colours appear to torment us while the wind blows great gusts of purple hailstones about our heads. I notice Hanama in an adjoining tree, calmly waiting. I wonder if Ixial knows there's a contract out on him.
Combat is reduced to farce by the intervening magical forces. The trees disappear but before anyone can think about fighting again a volcano begins to sprout from the ground.
Everyone starts to look nervous as we wonder whether the angry-looking volcano will vanish before it erupts. Smoke pours from the apex and lava is starting to trickle down its sides. The earth begins to shake.
Captain Rallee looks at the growing volcano, then at me.
"How do we get out of here?" he asks, a demand echoed by Prefect Tholius as the ground shakes and groans and lava begins to pour in torrents towards us. Casax is a fearless man and stands his ground, but his Brotherhood enforcers are starting to look nervous.
"A good question. And one which Prefect Tholius should have thought of before following us in here. Escaping from the magic space is no easy matter. How about you?" I call over to Ixial the Seer. "Any suggestions?"
The volcano starts to erupt.
"Get us out of here!" roars Tholius.
"Why should I? You'll only kill us when we're back in the tavern."
I turn to Casax.
"Not much point taking us all back to Twelve Seas if the Brotherhood starts coming round giving me a hard time, is there?"
Casax, still without fear, ponders for a second or two, then shrugs his shoulders.
"Probably not, Investigator. But I'm not too mad at you for this. We want the gold and I'm not giving up on it, but if you get us out of here I'll forget that you've been holding out on us."
Molten lava is now pouring from the volcano and rocks are starting to crash around our heads. Any second now there's going to be one almighty explosion and Thraxas, Private Investigator, will never be seen again in the state of Turai.
I call over to Tholius.
"How about you, Prefect? You willing to walk away from the Avenging Axe if I get us back?"
Tholius doesn't have as much backbone as Casax.
"Yes," he screams. "Get us out!"
"And as for you, Ixial and Tresius. You better just promise in the name of Saint Quatinius not to harm us when we return."
Ixial and Tresius nod. I catch a look in Rallee's eyes showing that he doesn't think much of all these vows. Neither do I, but I'll have to hope for the best. The volcano shows no sign of disappearing and you can die here the same as anywhere else. If I get us out of the magic space I'll have to take them all with me, though I'd be tempted to leave them if I could.
I turn to Makri.
"Where's Hanama?"
She doesn't know. The Assassin has slipped off somewhere. There is a deafening explosion as the top of the volcano blows off and rocks the size of houses start tumbling around us. Ash rains down from the sky. It's difficult to breathe.
"Get us out," scream a dozen voices.
"Okay. Just let me get a sandwich."
I dig around in my bag and bring out one of the sandwiches Tanrose made me for my day's investigation. After all the running around and fighting it's looking somewhat the worse for wear, but it would do for lunch if I was hungry.
Everyone stares at me incredulously.
"Thraxas, this is no time to be thinking about your stomach!" cries Captain Rallee furiously as the molten lava starts to singe our toes.
"He's mocking us!" snarls Tholius. "I'll kill him before the volcano gets me!"
Remaining calm I remove the top layer from the sandwich, revealing some or Tanrose's home-cured meat. I scrape a few grains of salt off the meat. The volcano erupts even more violently than before. A six-foot wall of lava surges over the rim and races towards us. Young monks scream and fall to their knees in prayer.
I drop the salt on the ground. There's an even louder bang and the whole world shakes itself apart in a fantastic earthquake. Abruptly the earthquake halts, the air shimmers, and the magic space starts to melt away. We find ourselves deafened but otherwise healthy, back in the Avenging Axe. The volcano is gone. No pigs lecture us. Gurd looks at me wonderingly.
"How—?"
"Salt. Complete anathema to the magic space. Destroys it. A little trick I learned on my travels abroad. The magic purse is no more. Only foreign bodies like us and the statue could survive. Everybody all right?"
The monks start picking themselves off the ground, dazed from their experiences but relieved to be alive. No one is looking too comfortable. When you are one second away from death at the hands of a massive volcanic explosion and then the next second back in a tavern in Twelve Seas, it takes a little time to adjust.
Prefect Tholius is one of the first to get his wits back. He checks that his ally Casax is still in one piece. Then, seeing that he still has a number of men in good health, he turns and points at me.
"Kill that man," he orders.
I'm getting sick of hearing that.
The monks hold back, unsure of whether to join in. And at that moment, as Gurd, Makri, Rallee and myself are wearily raising our weapons and thinking that really there must be some easier way to make a living, almost everyone in the tavern collapses to the ground and lies unconscious on the floor.
Makri and I find ourselves staring stupidly at a mass of assorted monks and gangsters apparently all having an afternoon sleep. The only other person still standing is Casax.
"What happened?"
"Are we still in the magic space?" demands Makri.
"You are back in the Avenging Axe," says Astrath Triple Moon, appearing from the top of the stairs. I notice he's helped himself to a flagon of ale.
"Well done, Thraxas. I was a bit worried when you all disappeared into the magic space. That's really not a place you should go. But I thought you'd probably emerge all right. Salt?"
I nod.
"I've been looking at your grimoire," continues the Sorcerer. "Rather out-of-date, but functional enough. I thought you might need a little help when you got back so I had the sleep spell in readiness."
He looks at Makri. "I see your spell protection charms are working well."
Makri and I both wear spell protection charms round our necks. They're made out of Red Elvish Cloth, which is immensely powerful, woven in with copper beads and wires and treated by Astrath. We acquired them a couple of months ago, fortunately, because a spell protection charm is vital to a man in my line of work. After I pawned my last one I was left an easy target for any malicious Sorcerer who came my way. Spell protections are rare items, and very expensive, and only the city's most important officials such as the Consul are issued with them as a matter of right, which is why Captain Rallee now lies sleeping at my feet, along with Gurd and everyone else struck down by Astrath's spell.
"Poor Rallee. They ought to pay him better. Good thinking, Astrath."
Casax, an important man in the underworld, also has a spell protection charm so he's still awake, but I can tell he's at a loss for what to do next. I suggest to him he should leave before I summon the Guards and they start rounding up everyone connected with the King's gold. The gangster's face remains impassive but for once he has to admit defeat. Faced with myself, Makri and Astrath Triple Moon, he can't get to the statue, and even though he has influence in this city he won't want to be connected with the gold theft. That would have repercussions too strong even for the Brotherhood to escape.
He turns and leaves without saying a word. Now we just have to decide what to do with everyone before they start waking up. Makri suggests killing the ringleaders while they're still sleeping. I admit it as a possibility but wonder if there is some less drastic way to make ourselves safe.
There is the slightest of sounds behind us as Hanama emerges from behind the statue. She wears a plain black necklace, the standard spell protection charm of the important Assassin. This Assassin has a great capacity for disappearing and reappearing when you don't expect it.
"I'm glad you're still alive," she says to Makri, calmly, and walks towards the door.
"Don't bother thanking me," I call to her.
"What for? I knew how to get out of the magic space. I took the precaution of taking salt with me."
Hanama appears to have been untroubled by the whole affair. She's cool in a crisis, I have to grant her that.
"Is that really the King's gold?" she says, pointing to the statue.
I look at the statue and nod.
"It is."
"Well done," says Hanama. "Another crime solved by your powers of investigation."
She disappears through the front door. I stare after her suspiciously.
"That was odd."
"She paid you a compliment," says Makri.
"That's what's odd. Why? The Assassins Guild doesn't waste its time on compliments. Well, never mind. What are we going to do now? We have about ten minutes until everyone wakes up. I really can't stand any more running around getting chased by everyone. I'm sick of it."
I am heartily sick of the whole affair. I started off just wanting to clear poor Grosex. Look where it got me. Next time a Prefect insults me I should think twice about losing my temper. But I probably won't.
I have to do something quickly. Tholius will be down on me like a bad spell when he wakes up. We could be back where we started and now I've destroyed the magic space there's nowhere to hide.
"You could leave the tavern before they wake," suggests Astrath Triple Moon. "I could shelter you."
I'm not so fond of this idea. I don't feel like hiding.
"I could put the sleep spell back in my mind and send them to sleep again when they wake."
"True. But we'd be here all day. The Guards would probably like a long talk with some of these people. It's no use going to the harbour station though. Tholius is in charge there and they'd just throw us in the slammer and I doubt we'd ever get out. But we could try Captain Rallee's station. Once his men hear he's in trouble they'll come."
"What about the statue?"
"Without the magic purse no one's going to be able to move it in a hurry."
It means leaving the sleeping Gurd behind, but he'll be safe enough with Astrath watching over things. They're not after Gurd anyway. Makri and I make to leave. I get a strange feeling as I walk past the slumbering figure of Ixial the Seer. A very strange feeling. I bend down to examine him.
"He's dead."
"Dead?"
A slim dart is buried in his chest, just deep enough to reach his heart. An Assassin's weapon. I shake my head.
"That's why Hanama asked us to look at the statue."
You have to admire the woman's skill. In the brief seconds I was distracted she threw a dart into Ixial's chest, killing him casually in passing. And no one could say they witnessed the event.
"No one escapes the Assassins Guild," I sigh. "Come on, let's get the Guards."
I know most of the Guards at the Captain's station though that doesn't mean I'm a frequent or welcome visitor. Captain Rallee bans them from giving me information. But when I march in and tell them that their Captain is at present lying asleep in the Avenging Axe, with the Brotherhood, Tholius and two temples' worth of warrior monks waiting to attack him, and, furthermore, the King's missing gold secreted nearby, the station empties quickly enough. I stop off on the way to send a message to Praetor Cicerius. If there's a reward paid out for the recovery of the gold I don't want my share shuffled aside for some grasping Civil Guard.
It takes twenty minutes to make the round trip. When we get back the tavern has emptied entirely of opponents.
Astrath looks abashed. "Sorry, I didn't have another spell to stop them escaping."
Captain Rallee is still yawning. He glares angrily at Astrath Triple Moon for sending him to sleep though he admits there was nothing else he could do in the circumstances.
"You ought to get a spell protection charm, Captain."
"On my salary?"
He starts barking out orders, sending men to the Abode of Justice and the Palace with news of what's been going on.
"You think Prefect Tholius will stay and try and bluff it out with his connections?"
"Doubt it. He's blown it this time. His connections will never smooth over his stealing from the King. I expect he's packed a bag and fled the city by now. Same with the monks. Was the Brotherhood in on the theft?"
I shake my head. They were just trying to pick up whatever they could. There's probably no way of making anything stick to Casax, not with the amount of bribe money the Brotherhood can feed to a jury when it needs to. Anyway, I can't see any jury convicting him of pursuing an Investigator and a Guard Captain through the magic space with murderous intent. It was established long ago in Turanian legal circles that the city statutes do not apply to events in the magic space.
A couple of Guards are wrapping up Ixial's body prior to carting it away to the morgue. When he saw the dart in Ixial's heart Captain Rallee didn't have to be told what happened.
"Hanama? You see her do it?"
I shake my head. "She's too smart for that."
"I hate these killers," mutters the Captain. "I'd be happy to see them all swinging on the gallows."
He knows there's no chance of that. The Assassins Guild has too much protection because the Senate finds them very useful at times. So, it's rumoured, does the King. Besides which, they rarely leave any evidence of their acts behind them. If the Guards ask a Sorcerer to examine the dart it'll turn out to have been painted with fragments of Red Elvish Cloth, or spell protected, or manipulated in some other way known only to the Assassins to make it untraceable. Trying to convict Hanama of killing Ixial would be like trying to catch the breeze.
Rallee accepts a beer from Gurd. It's against the rules for Guards to drink on duty, but they don't pay too much notice to this sort of rule. The Captain is very pleased to have recovered the gold, but I can tell he's not happy.
"I expect you'll be wasting no time in going to the courts and presenting evidence to get Grosex cleared of the murder?"
The captain hates it when I put one over on the Guard.
I finish off my own beer. "I'm going up to see him right now."
Soolanis and Dandelion appear with Palax and Kaby. They've been hiding in the caravan out the back. Captain Rallee stares at them perceptively.
"Keep taking dwa and it'll kill you," he grunts.
"Or I will," I add.
Soolanis was bad enough as a drunk. If she gets into dwa she might as well sell her father's villa and move on to the street right away. It'll save time. And it takes Palax and Kaby enough time and effort to earn money busking, so I don't understand why they then want to spend it on some useless drug. Nothing would surprise me about Dandelion. I take the healing stone and hand it to her, but even this brings little expression into her vacant eyes.
"Take this to the dolphins when you get your energy back."
I ask Makri to come to the law courts with me.
"You think Sarin might still be around?"
I shake my head. Sarin will have learned by now that the gold statue is beyond her reach. She won't trouble us again.
"She might be looking for revenge now Ixial's been killed."
"I doubt it. I don't think her loyalty to her old teacher would go that far. Sarin is focused on her own needs. Anyway, it wasn't our fault Ixial handed in his toga. It was Tresius who hired the Assassins Guild. You know, I'm not sure if Sarin enjoys anything except killing. Makes me wonder what she wants gold for anyway. Probably wouldn't know how to enjoy it if she got it. I'll still kill her the next time we meet."
Makri intimates that Sarin won't need me to kill her if she meets her first. She goes upstairs to put on her tunic before hitting the streets.
"Nice shape," says Captain Rallee when she's gone.
"I guess."
"You guess? Twenty years ago you'd have been baying at the moon if she walked by in that bikini, Orc blood or not."
"Twenty years ago I wasn't old, overweight and full of beer."
I'm completely drained. Captain Rallee takes us up to the law courts in a Guard landus. It's a silent journey in the early-morning light. I guess I should be happy as a drunken mercenary after coming out on top against formidable odds, but all I really want to do is sleep.