Chapter one

One of the best ways to survive on Kregen is to know at all times exactly what is going on behind your back. The cat-man, his whiskery face distorted with rage, turned towards his adversary and exchanged blows, but apparently forgot in the heat of battle this essential habit that makes for an unabbreviated life.

As the airboat swayed in the sky, a hulking fellow stormed up behind the Fristle and clubbed him over the head. The Fristle let out a short, surprised, pained cry, and fell helplessly out of the lifter.

His two attackers leaned over the rail to watch him fall.

The Fristle was clinging on with one hand, his whiskery face contorted with pain and fear.

“No, doms!” he shouted. “It was all a misunderstanding!”

They laughed. They were Rapas, with heads that bore a close resemblance to black vultures. They carried swords, but for the Fristle the cudgel had been sufficient. They mocked him.

“Doms! For sweet Tolaar’s sake!”

This was another mistake that could quickly bring death.

“Tolaar!” The Rapa’s anger was frightening. “Dokerty has no time for blintzes who worship Tolaar!”

With these words, he raised his cudgel to smash down on the Fristle’s hand.

I stepped forward and intercepted the downward blow.

“All right, doms. You’ve had your fun! Pull him up now.”

They turned around. I held the cudgel in a grip that I judged would prevent any further use — either against me or against the Fristle.

“Clear off, blintz!”

“Schtump, you rast!”

I was in no mood to be overly polite, nor even to have sport with them. With a sudden jerk that surprised both of them the cudgel came into my possession and I brandished it first under one beak and then under the other.

“No. You are the ones who will clear off.”

“Are you one of those damned Tolaar followers?” one of the Rapas rumbled.

“No. And I’m no Dokerty cultist either.”

For a moment, nothing happened. The airboat, a quite ordinary passenger lifter, was flying above the clouds on its way to Oxonium. An invitation from San Paynor, the high priest of Cymbaro, had taken me to Farinsee where I paid a visit to young Tiri who was progressing well in the studies that would eventually confer strange and mystical powers upon her. It had gone well. Now the next task awaited me. Young Dimpy had remained in Farinsee.

All of us wore ponsho fleeces over our fashionable shamlaks because at this height the bite of the cold could be considerable.

The brief, breathless moment came to an abrupt end. I reached down with my free hand to heave the trembling Fristle aboard — and both Rapas threw themselves on me.

A strange cloud blocked my view. Either the Rapas were damned fast, or I was incredibly slow, because they were instantly on me, by Krun! The first threw himself against my legs. His sidekick aimed at my head with his cudgel. He hit me but I did