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  Lisinthir had risen during this speech, and at its conclusion bowed to her. “Sediryl Nuera Galare. You have no idea what a pleasure it is.”

  She considered him at length—at rather longer length than he expected. And then, surprising everyone, she offered her hands. He took them, as she so patently expected, and found her skin… strange. As if there was a wall under it he couldn’t reach past, and a pressure leaning toward him. He thought of dammed lakes and wondered.

  “Lisinthir Nase,” she said. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

  “Oh?” he asked.

  She frowned at him. “Stop that.”

  “Stop….”

  “Looking at me like you find me attractive. I am not—”

  “The typical Eldritch woman, and Nuera’s marriageable heir? I know,” Lisinthir said. “Fear not for your virtue, lady. My affections are otherwise engaged.” He smiled. “That leaves me at liberty to appreciate you for your many virtues, all of which are on flagrant display.”

  She tilted her head, then grinned suddenly. “I can’t tell if you’re annoying or amusing, cousin.”

  “I have that effect on people who go on to find me quite bearable.” Lisinthir squeezed her hands and let them drop. How perfect she was, from the tip of her riding boots to the crown of her sensibly braided hair. She wore an outrageous and elegant riding habit in dark blue that would have excited no shame among the Pelted but was so obviously modeled on the Eldritch male version of that costume that he couldn’t imagine what other Eldritch thought of her. He found her delightful. “Sediryl. It’s meet that you should be here, and I’m glad to find you thus.”

  “Oh?” She looked over her shoulder at Amber. “You’d be the only one.”

  “Tell me if the Slave Queen has arrived yet?” Lisinthir said. “It is imperative that we speak with her.”

  “She hasn’t arrived, no—” Amber said.

  “She’s not coming.”

  They both looked at Sediryl.

  “Not coming?” Lisinthir repeated, careful.

  “She stayed behind,” Sediryl said. “She asked me to take care of her people for her in her absence, but she said this was her war too. She couldn’t abandon the field to the enemy.”

  Memories dizzied him: too many to separate, so that they clouded his vision like a pastiche of sunlight in bright towers, speaking of stories of sacrifice, pledging defense of the innocent, suffering for that defense. How dearly he had wanted her to learn to consider herself a person, and yet it had led to this choice and… he found he could not fault her for it, though it lanced his heart to think of her amongst the foe. Found, in fact, that he was proud of her, soaringly so, and that pride lived entwined in his heart with his desolation at her peril.

  Sediryl was studying him when he gathered himself back from those memories. “It is all that I would expect of her,” he said. “Though it leaves us bereft of the intelligence she might have given us had she come. She spearheaded this flight, if I understand correctly, so hers was presumably also the decision that it was necessary.”

  “Hopefully she shared the rationale for that decision with someone else?” Na’er said. “Someone we can consult?”

  Laniis offered, “She said she had a head of security.”

  “Has he come?” Lisinthir asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Amber replied. At Lisinthir’s look, he said, “We expected fourteen groups, cousin, and thirteen have arrived, more or less on schedule. The last is due tomorrow afternoon. And no one yet has stepped forward to claim a position of responsibility for any of this, that we know of.”

  “That you know of,” Lisinthir repeated.

  Amber grimaced. “I understand bits of the Chatcaavan language, cousin, but by no means am I a fluent speaker. I have no gift for it; I find in fact that I lose pieces of our tongue the longer I speak Universal. We have people here who do speak it, though, and they have had very little to report of their interviews.”

  “I fear I have no knowledge of the tongue at all,” Sediryl added.

  The urge to pace was rising. “Where are these Chatcaava? I might have better fortune.”

  “They’re with the host families,” Sediryl said.

  “Wait, here? On this world?” Na’er’s ears slicked back. “I was under the impression the moment they came through they’d be sent on.”

  “That was the plan, yes,” Amber said. “But as we said, no one has come forward to take responsibility for these refugees, and without someone to speak for them they have not wanted to leave the scant protection of the families who smuggled them off the throneworld.”

  “The ‘scant’ protection?” Na’er said, arch. “Wouldn’t that be the ‘nonexistent’ protection, since they’d be the easiest people for the enemy Chatcaava to trace?”

  “We have not had much luck explaining that to them,” Amber said. “They await someone they can trust to lead them offworld, at which point our cousin—” Looking now at Sediryl, “—will be responsible for taking them wherever they are due next.”

  “If I was in charge of something like this,” Laniis murmured, “I’d be the last one out.”

  “That’s what we’re hoping,” Amber said.

  “And at that point we’ll have someone to interview about what went wrong,” Na’er said. He rolled his shoulders. “No use going back to the ship, then. The trek out here takes longer than a day. You have a place for us to put our heads down?”

  Amber eyed him.

  “Right,” Na’er said. “Then I’ll just tuck into this food, if you don’t mind? And maybe you can bring more of it down? A man can’t live on bread and cheese alone.”

  “After the journey you’ve undertaken… no, I imagine not,” Amber said. “I’ll have something sent. You as well, Lieutenant Baker?”

  “I think I’d better, yes,” Laniis said. “Ambassador?”

  “I’ll come back to it,” Lisinthir promised. “I would like a moment with my cousins, I think.”

  “Would you,” Amber said, resigned.

  “That’s a long face for someone who had barely met me,” Lisinthir said in their tongue, following him into the stairwell.

  “You approve of our cousin Nuera being here? Then yes, you have earned it. This is no place for a woman. Do you know what the Chatcaava do to women?”

  Lisinthir needed no esper ability to sense Sediryl’s seething behind him. Draping the words in extravagant blacks and shadows, he said, “I think I know a little better than you, Seni’s son.”

  Amber’s back twitched, but he continued up the stairs to the landing and stopped there, facing them both. Lisinthir met his eyes and finished, “They do no less to the males. It is no safer for you than for her—less safe, because unless you could convince them you were a male worth conquering, they would simply kill you. Our cousin they might rape and discard in their harem, little understanding what they were doing by leaving her alive to plot their demise behind their turned backs.”

  “Oh, I do like you,” Sediryl said, coming abreast of him.

  “You would,” Amber said, irritated. “But there are reasons you need to remain whole that don’t apply to the rest of us.”

  “Because men are disposable?” Lisinthir asked politely.

  “Because the only women Liolesa pays attention to are those worthy of power,” Amber said. “And she’s just lost her heir, hasn’t she?” To Sediryl, “You see. Just because I love Beth and she’s become as expendable as the rest of us doesn’t make me blind to expedience.” His bow was brusque. “I will go ensure the plan is on schedule. If you will excuse me.”

  Amber left them in the empty chamber. The distant sounds of children playing outside reached them through the open windows, filling some of the echoing silence he’d left in his wake. Curious, Lisinthir said, “Is he correct, then?”

  Sediryl’s mouth firmed, then quirked at the edge. “I think his characterization of Liolesa is unfair, but I also think it’s unavoidable, given his situation.”
/>   “Artfully dodged,” Lisinthir said with a tsk. “I expected better, Nuera.”

  She chuckled. “Yes, you would, wouldn’t you?” She considered him with eyes as orange as the Slave Queen’s. “Then—yes, I think she’s grooming me for the role Bethsaida’s just vacated. But it would be foolish to think she won’t change her mind if I prove unsuitable.”

  He drifted to the window and looked out at the groves behind the building. “And is that what you’re doing now? Proving your suitability?”

  Sediryl laughed. “No. I’m being me. If she likes what I am, she can keep me. If she doesn’t, then I don’t want any part of what she’s doing.”

  Lisinthir glanced past his shoulder at her, lifted his brows. “Like a mewed falcon.”

  “I’ve been trained to the hunt all my life, cousin,” Sediryl said, calm. “Does anyone blame me for longing for the sky?”

  He inhaled sharply, let it out. “Even the wingless do.”

  “Only the bold will win it.” She came alongside him, but unlike him her stare focused on nothing.

  “The bold,” Lisinthir allowed. “And those open to change when it comes to them.”

  She tilted her head, smiling at him. “You know, I think the ‘annoying’ phase lasted less than a few heartbeats, Ambassador.”

  He chuckled. “Now, cousin. Don’t look at me thus.”

  “As if you’re an attractive man?” She grinned. “Don’t worry, I heard you. Your heart’s ‘engaged’.”

  “Is yours?” he asked, quietly.

  She was staring outside again, at the sky now. “It… may be. Maybe.”

  Something in him relaxed. Galare, he thought, amused, the way remains open, if only you seize it. And then he laughed. Jahir as King-Consort! God and Lady. How he would cavil!

  Sediryl glanced at him, grinned. “You have a good laugh, cousin. Will you share the joke?”

  “I fear you lack the context to understand it… yet. You will soon enough.” He nodded. “We are not done here, I think. One of us is missing and must be summoned. I should do that, so that he will arrive soon enough to join us in whatever plan we create on hearing the information brought by tomorrow’s Chatcaava.”

  “One of us?” Sediryl asked, curious.

  “Amber’s brother,” he replied, watching her carefully out of the corner of her eye. And there… there was the little hitch of breath he was hoping for.

  “Jahir? Why?”

  “You will find it unbelievable, perhaps…”

  Sediryl snorted. “Try me.”

  “He is a mind-mage, cousin. And so am I. We work better together than alone, and I promised him a place in this war.”

  Sediryl’s gaze was incredulous. “Jahir?”

  “Did you make the mistake of believing him a pacifist because he has a gentle spirit?” Lisinthir asked, idly. “That would seem a mistake on the caliber of believing you are fangless because you are a woman.”

  “Yes, it would,” she said. “But…”

  “But?” he prompted.

  She shook her head as if clearing it. “It just strikes me as strange to hear. You’re not the only mind-mages that have appeared recently.”

  His heart stilled. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Liolesa’s cousin, once Jisiensire’s sealbearer,” Sediryl said. “He came into Corel’s powers and used them to defend the world. He can kill from afar, and more than one man at a time.”

  “Can he,” Lisinthir breathed. Then his abilities were not anomalous? What had the Queen’s cousin learned? To have the time to speak with him, compare experiences! “To defend the world—he is on the homeworld, then?”

  “Yes, and busy, or so I was told when I was briefed,” Sediryl agreed. “He is not available for our efforts when our own world is so vulnerable. I remember thinking…” She paused, then laughed. “I thought when she told me ‘if only I had a few such mages of my own!’ And here you are. And I easily believe it of you, cousin….”

  “But not Jahir?” Lisinthir asked, amused. “If you know him at all, cousin, you will know better.”

  She drew in a breath and nodded, more to herself than to him. “One senses steel under the genteel exterior.”

  “I have a genteel exterior,” Lisinthir said. “Jahir has a sweetness and it runs all the way through him, skin to heart. There is nothing shallow or practiced about it.” He grinned. “He is far more stubborn than steel, though. Keep that in mind when you treat with him. Kindness you will have in every measure, cousin, but good luck forcing him to do anything he believes unjust or wrong.”

  Were her cheeks just a touch pink? He could hope so. “You speak as if you know him well.”

  “And I do,” Lisinthir said. “I’d have no one else at my back in this endeavor, so I hope there are secure communications facilities here. I promised him a summons and a summons he shall have.”

  “Ask your Fleet people,” Sediryl said. “If they cannot provide, I can.” At his inquiring look, she touched the unobtrusive gem hidden in the shadow of her far more obvious earrings. “I have a vessel myself hidden in orbit.”

  “So many unexpected pleasures, cousin,” Lisinthir said, grinning. “I greatly anticipate working with you.”

  “And being ruled by me, one day?”

  Lisinthir laughed. “I am an Eldritch nobleman, my lady. I live to serve.” He swept her a bow that amused her, if the suppressed noise was any indication. “Shall we find our secure comm?”

  “Yes,” Sediryl said, eyes alight. “This way, my lord.”

  “You have a what?” Na’er said, one of his overlong ears dipping.

  “A Dusted ship in orbit?” Sediryl said, too aware of her cousin’s presence at her side, and his seemingly eternal amusement.

  “A Dusted ship with a D-per for crew?” Laniis said, equally astonished. “Should I even ask where you got it?”

  “One would think the obvious answer is that she had it from our Queen,” Lisinthir offered. “Who arranged it with your government at some point.”

  “A private vessel with a Duster? Hell’s maps, yes,” Na’er exclaimed. “Is there anything we need to know about that D-per, either? Let me guess. Ex-Fleet?”

  “I would not want to share her secrets,” Sediryl demurred.

  “Of course she’s ex-Fleet,” Na’er muttered, shaking his head. And then guffawed. “What can I say to any of this except maybe ‘I’m glad you’re on our side.’”

  “I was thinking the very thing myself,” Lisinthir offered.

  “I bet you were.” Na’er considered Sediryl, still grinning. And then more soberly, “Having said that, though… how’s your friend going to make it in-system?”

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for him to come at all,” Laniis said, ears flattened. “Not having read some of the localnet news.” At Lisinthir’s quizzical glance, the Seersa said, “They’re not just hunting for all Eldritch, arii. They’re looking for you, specifically. As an enemy of the state.”

  “My!” Lisinthir said. “What heights a wingless freak might ascend to, given the provocation!”

  “I’m serious,” Laniis said. “Those bulletins have your face on them because they want you specifically, Ambassador, and I don’t know why. You’re an alien. This makes you important… like someone who needs to be specifically destroyed.”

  Sediryl glanced at Lisinthir when he proffered no witticism in response to that, and found his eyes distant and hard and searching, as if reading from some book she had no access to. Such a fascinating man—when Liolesa had described all he’d done in the Empire, she’d believed it but been incapable of imagining the person capable of those acts. Seeing him in person, she still couldn’t imagine their accomplishment, and yet… she did not find herself doubting Lisinthir had done them. It mattered not at that he seemed the perfect model of an Eldritch in his sanguine coat and ruby hair-jewels. Not when he carried his hands so carelessly near his swords, as if he was accustomed to their use... and certainly not with that thin scar at the brow,
the one she almost hadn’t seen because he kept looking at her so. His Eldritch gentility was, as he himself had confessed, only a veneer over something else, something less civilized.

  It was strange to her that she found herself thinking of Jahir when presented with this delicious puzzle. Lisinthir had mentioned working well with him. What was that like to witness? Why did her heart quicken at the thought that it must be glorious?

  “I find myself curious as well,” Lisinthir said. “And misliking the possible explanations. I will run them past whomever we meet tomorrow. In the mean—I still need my cousin here. Can you contact him or shall I apply to Sediryl for her aid?”

  Na’er tapped his fingers lightly on the table, frowning in thought. “Not that I don’t trust Lady Sediryl’s security arrangements, Ambassador, but… we were probably more careful coming in, which means her ship’s more likely to be discovered boosting the signal out.”

  “So we use ours?” Laniis said.

  “So we use hers,” Na’er said. “Assuming they succeed in compromising someone’s security, I’d prefer them to be compromising the ship most likely to be found. That will leave us one in reserve.” He grinned, lopsided. “Sorry, Lady.”

  “No offense taken,” Sediryl said. “Though I would not want my crewmember endangered without justification.”

  “She can live anywhere,” Laniis said. “Is living everywhere, in fact, if she’s distributed the way most D-pers are. If they take your ship, Lady, your friend won’t go with it.”

  “That’s settled then,” Sediryl said.

  “Send the message flat, not real-time,” Na’er said. “That’ll make a big difference in how difficult it is to trace. And tell your friend to be careful when he comes. This is technically neutral space. We don’t patrol here. The Chatcaava don’t either, but there’s nothing stopping them from changing their minds.”

  “I will impress upon him the importance of subterfuge,” Lisinthir promised. He offered his arm. “Cousin?”

  His habit of touching interested her, particularly since she felt nothing of his feelings through their contact. Was that his doing, some mind-mage ability? Or was it her usual deficiency in talent? She liked that he touched, but it emphasized the impression of him being something more carnal beneath the witty exterior. “Let us.” As they proceeded through the stone halls, she added, “You know something they do not.”