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. Hushed tones interspersed with a few giggles. His fear and his
desire to increase his own capacity for mischief finally reached a point
where they became greater than his other fear-"
"The Logrus. . . ."
"Yes. He finally tried the Logrus, and he made it through."
"He should be feeling very good about that. Proud. It was something
he',d wanted for years."
"Oh, yes," Mandor answered. "And I'm sure he felt a great number of
other things as well."
"Freedom," I suggested. "Power," and as I studied his half amused
expression, I was forced to add, "and the ability to play the game himself."
"There may be hope for you," he said. "Now, would you care to carry
that through to its logical conclusion?"
"Okay," I responded, thinking of Jurt's left ear as I floated away
following my cut, a swarm of blood-bead: spreading about it. "You think Jurt
sent the Fire Angel.' "Most likely," he replied. "But would you care to
pursue that a little further?"
I thought of the broken branch piercing Jurt's eyeball as we wrestled
in the glade. . . .
"All right," I said. "He's after me. It could be a part of the
succession game, because I'm slightly ahead of him; on that front, or just
plain dislike and revenge-or both. "
"It doesn't really matter which," Mandor said, "in terms of results.
But I was thinking of that crop-eareD wolf that attacked you
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