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He threw himself against the door one final time； then gave up on such primitive assaults。 Drawing a breath； he blew it into his fist and slammed the pneuma against the door the way he'd learned to do in the Jokalaylau。 It had been a glacier beneath his hand on that first occasion； and the ice had cracked only after several attempts。 This time； either because his will to be on the other side of the door was stronger than his desire to free the women in the ice； or simply because he was the Maestro Sartori now； a named man who knew at least a little about the power he wielded； the steel succumbed at the first blow； and a jagged crack opened in the door。
He heard Sartori shouting on the other side； but he didn't waste time trying to make sense of it。 Instead he delivered a second pneuma against the fractured steel； and this time his hand passed all the way through the door as pieces flew from beneath his palm。 He put his fist to his mouth a third time； smelling his own blood as he did so； but whatever harm this was doing him； it had not yet registered as pain。 He caught a third breath and delivered it against the door with a yell that wouldn't have shamed a samurai。 The hinges shrieked； and the door flew open。 He was through it before it had struck the floor； only to find the antechamber beyond deserted； at least by the living。 Three corpses； panions to the soldier who'd raised the alarm； lay sprawled on the floor； all opened with single slashes。 He leapt over them to the door； his broken hand adding its drops to the pools he trod。
The corridor beyond was rank with smoke； as though something half rotted was burning in the bowels of the palace。 But through the murk； fifty yards from him； he saw Sartori and Pie 'oh' pah。 Whatever fiction Sartori had invented to dissuade the mystif from pleting its mission； it had proved potent。 They were racing from the tower without so much as a backward glance； like lovers just escaped from death's door。
Gentle drew breath； not to issue a pneuma this time but a call。 He shouted Pie's name down the passageway； the smoke dividing as his summons went； as though the syllables from a Maestro's mouth had a literal presence。 Pie stopped and looked back。 Sartori took hold of the mystif s arm as if to hurry it on； but Pie's eyes had already found Gentle； and it refused to be ushered away。 Instead it shrugged off Sartori's hold and took a step in Gentle's direction。 The curtain of smoke divided by his cry had e together again and made a blur of the mystif s face； but Gentle read its confusion from its body。 It seemed not to know whether to advance or retreat。
〃It's me！〃 Gentle called。 〃It's me！〃
He saw Sartori at the mystif s shoulder and caught fragments of the warnings he was whispering： something about the Pivot having hold of their heads。
〃I'm not an illusion； Pie；〃 Gentle said as he advanced。 〃This is me。 Gentle。 I'm real。〃
The mystif shook its head； looking back at Sartori； then again at Gentle； confounded by the sight。
〃It's just a trick；〃 Sartori said； no longer bothering to whisper。 〃e away； Pie； before it really gets a hold。 It can make us crazy。〃
Too late； perhaps； Gentle thought。 He was close enough to see the look on the mystif s face now； and it was lunatic： eyes wide； teeth clenched； sweat making red rivulets of the blood spattered on its cheek and brow。 The sometime assassin had long since lost its appetite for slaughter…that much had been apparent back in the Cradle； when it had hesitated to kill though their lives had depended upon it…but it had done so here； and the anguish it felt was written in every furrow of its face。 No wonder Sartori had found it so easy to make the mystif forsake its mission。 It was teetering on mental collapse。 And now； confronted with two faces it knew； both speaking with the voice of its lover； it was losing what little equilibrium it had left。
Its hand went to its belt； from which hung one of the ribbon blades the execution squad had wielded。 Gentle heard it sing as it came； its edge undulled by the slaughter it had already mitted。
Behind the mystif； Sartori said； 〃Why not？ It's only a shadow。〃
Pie's crazed look intensified； and it raised the fluttering blade above its head。 Gentle halted。 Another step and he was in range of the blade； nor did he doubt that Pie was ready to use it。
〃Go on！〃 Sartori said。 〃Kill it！ One shadow more or less。。。。〃
Gentle glanced towards Sartori； and that tiny motion seemed enough to spur the mystif。 It came at Gentle； the blade whining。 He threw himself backwards to avoid the swipe； which would have opened his chest had it caught him； but the mystif was determined not to make the same error twice； and closed the gap between them with a stride。 Gentle retreated； raising his arms in surrender； but the mystif was indifferent to such signs。 It wanted this madness gone； and quickly。
〃Pie？〃 Gentle gasped。 〃It's me！ It's me！ I left you at the Kesparate！ Remember that？〃
Pie swung again； not once but twice； the second slash catching Gentle's upper arm and chest； opening the coat； shirt； and flesh beneath。 Gentle pivoted on his heel to avoid the following cut； putting his already bloodied hand to the wound。 Taking another stumbling step of retreat； he felt the wall of the passageway hard against his spine。 He had nowhere else to run。
〃Don't I get a last supper then？〃 he said； not looking at the blade but at Pie's eyes； attempting to stare past the slaughter fugue to the sane mind that cowered behind it。 〃You promised we'd eat together； Pie。 Don't you remember？ A fish inside a fish inside…〃
The mystif stopped。 The blade fluttered at its shoulder； 〃…a fish。〃
The blade fluttered on； but it didn't descend。 〃Say you remember； Pie。 Please say you remember。〃 Somewhere behind Pie； Sartori began a new round of exhortations； but to Gentle they were just a din。 He continued to meet Pie's blank gaze； looking for some sign that his words had moved his executioner。 The mystif drew a tiny； broken breath； and the knots that bound its brow and mouth slipped。 〃Gentle？〃 it said。
He didn't reply。 He just let his hand drop from his shoulder and stood open…armed against the wall。
〃Kill it！〃 Sartori was still saying。 〃Kill it！ It's just an illusion！〃
Pie turned； the blade still raised。 〃Don't！〃 Gentle said； but the mystif was already starting in the Autarch's direction。 Gentle called after it again； pushing himself from the wall to stop it。 〃Pie！ Listen to me…〃
The mystif glanced around； and as it did so Sartori raised his hand to his eye and in one smooth motion snatched at it； extending his arm and opening his fist to let fly what it had plucked。 Not the eye itself but some essence of his glance went from the palm like a ball trailing smoke。 Gentle reached for the mystif to drag it out of the sway's path； but his hand fell inches short of Pie's back； and as he reached again the sway struck。 The fluttering blade dropped from the mystif's hand as it was thrown backwards by the impact； its gaze fixed on Gentle as it fell into his arms。 The momentum carried them both to the ground； but Gentle was quick to roll from under the mystif s weight and put his hand to his mouth to defend them with a pneuma。