Adatha Za came for him the next day, to go with him to the Arena. Her
eyes were dark and sunken, her soft red mouth quivering. Her hair hung
loose, uncoiffed. She came into his arms and kissed him; drew back to
look up into his face, trembling.
"I am glad for last night," she whispered. "Though I did have
hopes--some day in my villa over the Jaralayan Sea--"
She buried her face against his chest, moving it slowly from side to
side, distrait.
"Hey," yelped Jonathan, lifting her face with a finger beneath her
chin. "Why the gloom? I thought we'd decided last night that I had a
chance."
"You did--last night. Today ... today Shar Bytu announced that the
winner of the mental monomachy is to attempt the black shadows! So--"
"Oof," Jonathan grunted, "that sort of knocks the stilts out from
under a guy. No matter who wins, both will die, unless--no, the age of
miracles passed a long time ago. What does Morka Kar say to that?"
"Oh, he raved and swore, but he dared do nothing to disobey. After all,
he is a scientist, and he is here to fight those flames. Even he cannot
hope to fight all the scientists on Neeoorna right now. I--I think he
will temporize. Have the monomachy declared a draw. That will allow him
to save face and his life at the same time."
"I'm going to win if I can," Jonathan said slowly. "I just don't
cotton to that guy."
Her long fingernails bit into the flesh of his wrists. Her voice was
hoarse, desperate, "By Lallista's brood, Jonathan! Do not anger him.
Your one chance is in Morka Kar's willingness to spare you that he may
spare his own self. If he loses that temper of his--Jonathan, I want
you alive."
He patted her bare shoulder, smiling.
"I'll still see that villa on the sea, honey. Don't fret your lovely
head about it. But it's time to go, now. I don't want this affair
called off on a forfeit."
They walked slowly, hand in hand, along the pebbled path to the great
white Amphitheatre. It rose tall and grim, brooding over the lovely
square that fronted its entrance. The square was deserted. Their
footfalls sounded loud in their ears.
They went up the steps and through the oval doorway. Alone, they went
down the black corridor toward the arena.
The seats were filled, inside the arena room. The batteries of ten
thousand eyes gloomed at Jonathan as he walked toward the great ivory
chair set on the sanded field. He knew Morka Kar watched him from the
ebony throne opposite the ivory chair, but he'd be damned before he'd
glance his way!
Jonathan settled himself in the seat before he looked at his opponent.
Morka Kar sat facing him, both arms resting on the ebony arms. His thin
mouth was twisted in a sardonic grin. His red-shot eyes glistened with
hate.
Adatha Za came forward with an oblong coffer, ornate with jewels.
Dropping to her knees, she unlocked the cover, and threw it open.
Inside, row on row, glittered vials and retorts of liquids and powders,
and long metal bars and needles.
Above Adatha Za's naked shoulders, Jonathan watched a three-legged
Paravian dance-walk its way to Morka Kar. The Paravian also carried a
monomachy casket.
Adatha Za spoke swiftly: "As you see his weapon form, combat it. Use
the antidote. Not knowing that," she was choking now, almost sobbing,
"not knowing that, attack the weapon with your mind. It has existence,
but it is a mentally energized existence. Mental energy may dissipate
it if strong enough. It is not considered good form--but it is safe."
The dark eyes shimmered through tears as she looked up at him.
"Farewell," she whispered.
And turned and fled.
Morka Kar stretched out a foot and kicked shut the cover of the coffer
before his throne. The _clunk_ of the closing lid sounded loud in the
high chamber, merging with the breathless gasp that shook the throng.
Only a mathless monomachy fighter scorned the help of the box.
Jonathan looked at Morka Kar and grinned.
He put out his own foot and slammed the cover down. Dimly he caught,
in some remote recess of his brain, the amaze that held the onlookers.
They didn't know, as did Adatha Za, that the contents of that box were
as much a mystery to Jonathan as were the black shadows. He'd be better
off without it. It gave him less to think about, and he needed all his
powers of thought.