Martine smiled with satisfaction as the electric flows meshed from the three prongs of the transport base, and the portal flared into being. This was the final one. Twelve in all, his personal invitations to the Isparians to come visit Marae Lassel. And the Virindi thought themselves safe there? The fun would soon begin.

And that was only one front of his crusade against the alien beings. How easy it was to magnify Ecorto's desire for order into something more radical. And now the Director stood there in Zaikhal, sending hordes of Isparians nipping at the heels of his former tormentors. They would know pain and fear. They would come to know it well.

But Martine wondered whether he was winning the battle at the expense of the war. He trembled with anger as he thought of that meddling witch, Nuhmudira. Housing, of all things! She and her Agents of the Arcanum would need to be dealt with. But Dereth had taught Martine to be flexible, to be patient. Good things were coming. Let the humans play with their new toys, their masks and their elixirs. Let them acquire their "Writs" and think themselves safe and secure in their new homes.

The mouse is never easier to catch than when stuffed with cheese.

The thing once known as Candeth Martine raised his hands and teleported himself back to his stronghold on Marae. After all, he had visitors to prepare for.