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A moment later he screamed, as Jasra lowered her head and her lips
touched his forearm. She pushed him away then, and he fell down the
remaining steps, landing stiffly, not moving.
I crept to the right of the Fount, over the sharp edges of the broken
flooring, which jiggled and sawed at me within the matrix of Mask's power.
"Jurt is out of it," I commented, "and you stand alone now, Mask,
against the three of us. Call it quits, and I'll see that you go on living."
"Three of you," came that flat, distorted voice. "You admit that you
cannot beat me without help?"
" Beat?" I said. "Perhaps you consider it a game. I do not. I will not
be bound by any rules you choose to recognize. Call it quits or I'll kill
you, with or without help, any way I can."
A dark object suddenly appeared overhead; and I rolled back away from
the Fount as it came to rest in the basin. It was Jurt. Unable to move
normally because of the paralytic effect of Jasra's bite, he had trumped
away from the foot of the stair and into the Fount.
"You have your friends, Lord of Chaos, and I have mine," Mask replied,
as Jurt moaned softly and began to glow.
Suddenly Mask went spinning into the air, as I heard the flooring
shatter. The Fount itself died down, grew weaker, as a flaming tower twisted
ceilingward, rising from a new opening in the floor, bearing Mask with it on
the crest of its golden plume
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