“Not on Takis!” Taj interrupted.

Zabb whirled on the humans. “It is an act of total depravity, a sign of insanity. It is abomination.” Zabb turned back to the regent. If this creature is on Takis -”

“He is with the Vayawand,” Taj said.

“Then let me lead a raid -”

“No.” Tisianne sat up, and rising, she moved with what grace she could muster to the desk to seat herself in her father’s chair.

The humans were oblivious to the symbolism. The lines at the corners of Taj’s mouth deepened, whether a smile hidden or anger suppressed, Tisianne couldn’t tell. Taj had ruled this House for over thirty years. Did he resent her usurpation? But it wasn’t usurpation; it was hers by right.

Only one man could challenge that right. Implacably she met his gaze. Zabb smiled. Unconsciously he brushed at his mustache with the tip of a forefinger, his manner that of a man surveying an hors d’oeuvre tray. Taj inclined his head. Zabb did not.

“You are dismissed,” Tis said to her cousin.

“He is the commandant of the House,” Taj said.

“I have not made him so. And you must have been using someone else in his absence.”

“Not as effectively,” was the dry reply.

Zabb rested his palms on the desk and leaned in on her. “I am the best man for the job, cousin.”

“For whatever job I decide to give you. Not one of your own choosing, cousin. And certainly not for the job you are eyeing.” Anger made her breath short, and Illyana jerked in her womb. Tis pressed a hand against her stomach and longed for a handful of Rolaids. “Now, go.” Zabb bowed, so respectfully, so politely, so reverently that it made a mockery of the obeisance, and withdrew.

“We’re going to have to use him,” Taj said.

“Maybe, but Ancestors be damned if I’m going to let him assume anything.”

“What are your orders, Raiyis?”

“Contact the Raiyis of House Vayawand. Inform him of my return, my situation, of the… crime committed against me. Demand extradition, but lead the troops yourself – I don’t trust Zabb -”

It finally penetrated that Taj had been gesturing at her, trying to stop the urgent flow of words. “What?”

“This is all very lovely, nephew, but for one tiny flaw – Blaise is the Raiyis of House Vayawand.”

Chapter Nineteen

Ballooning was definitely a rad experience. Slipping along, just another colorful cloud among all the other colorful clouds. Unlike a human outing there wasn’t a lot of noise of conversation, but that was because most of the people were using Vayet, and fully half the conversation was telepathic. There was a Tarhiji orchestra performing at the stern of the amazing carved-and-painted gondola, but they kept it soft so a person could appreciate the magical silence of this mode of travel.

There was one constant noise that Kelly found very disturbing – the clap of wings followed by a piteous shriek as another small bird or animal was caught and killed by the plunging birds of prey being flown by the nobles in the bow. Blaise was up there where he could really hear their cries and smell the blood. Kelly liked it just fine in the stern, thank you. And he knew the cure for discomfort – more wine.

He signaled, and the wine washed like liquid amber into the goblet. The scent of the servant’s per fume filled Kelly’s nostrils. He snatched up the glass so quickly that the servant spilled a few drops on the embroidered tablecloth. Kelly grinned apology at the pretty girl and gulped down half the glass. Cold sweet fire. Whatever else could be said about the Takisians, they made bitching wine. The girl smiled back. There was a startling reaction from Kelly’s borrowed body, and he half rose from his chair. The horizon wobbled, and Kelly realized he was more than a little drunk.

“The body leads, the mind must follow,” said Bat’tam.

The elderly noble had drawn a chair close – too close – to Kelly’s. The lost human blinked owlishly at him. The embedded jewels had begun to sag like collapsing houses into the wrinkles networking Bat’tam’s face, and his long silver hair reminded Kelly of cobwebs. The older man’s gaze dropped, and Kelly slid a hand to his crotch to hide his rampant erection. Bat’tam stood, waved off the girl, placed a hand on Kelly’s shoulder, and urged him back into his chair.

“There, there, Ilkazam, don’t distress yourself.”

“I’m a little confused about my role right now,” Kelly slurred, and hiccuped his way into a little sob.

“What does it matter? Man or woman, you are dear to me.”

“I thought you were only nice to me so you could get close to Blaise.”

Bat’tam laid a hand across Kelly’s mouth, stopping the angry, bitter words. “I avoid charismatic young men with fire in their eyes, and a hunger in their heart. That’s how I’ve lived to be so old. No, Ilkazam. You are -” Bat’tam broke off abruptly, and frowned at the small, fast shuttle that was falling like one of the hunting birds on the bloated mass of the balloon.

The ship braked, and hovered beside the gondola. Everyone’s attention shifted to the new arrival.

“It must be serious if they interrupt the Raiyis at his play,” Bat’tam said.

Kelly’s focus was on the flock of pretty little gray-and-lavender birds that had just been released. “Run,” he said under his breath. “Fly fast.” The little birds went fluttering in all directions. Several of the large raptors spread their brilliantly colored wings and shook them urgently as they sensed their prey escaping.

A man was suspended in thin air, being propelled by some unseen force from the door of the shuttle to the deck of the gondola. He hurried to the party surrounding Blaise and dropped to his knees.

“My lord,” the man said.

Blaise smiled tightly down at him and rolled an eye to Durg. The Morakh stepped ponderously forward. “Der’et, one of our intelligence officers from the Bonded station.”

“This better be good. You’ve interrupted me.”

“Perhaps in private, master,” Durg said softly.

“Fuck that,” Blaise said in English.

“A Network ship docked today. Tisianne brant Ts’ara and Zabb brant Sabina were aboard. They were taken to Ilkazam, and there have been shots exchanged with the Network vacu.”

Durg watched the color drain from the boy’s face. “Oh no. No. How? How did he get here?”

Hesitantly the spy offered, “The Network, Raiyis.”

Blaise turned on Durg. “Why didn’t you tell me? You said we’d be safe. He couldn’t get here!”

“Calm yourself.”

It was an inauspicious recommendation. It lit the fuse of Blaise’s fury, and he went plunging like a linebacker through the diminutive Takisians clustered about him.

Durg didn’t have time to deal with Blaise’s tantrums at the moment. The news of a Network encroachment into Takisian space was alarming. Glancing down at the huddled spy, Durg said, “Return at once to the station and monitor the Network. Apprise me of any movement or messages.” Durg started away, then looked back briefly. “And I suggest you not take formal leave of the Raiyis.”

There was a sudden murmur of sound from the stern of the gondola, and a wavelike movement as the crowd reacted like an amoeba touched with a finger. With mounting concern Durg rolled through the crowd.

Saw Kelly, running like a maddened jebali, screaming Durg’s name. The man slammed into his chest, and the extent of the disaster came into focus in sharp, hard-edged images – a white-and-red-coated bone splinter sticking through the skin of Kelly’s forearm.

Durg grabbed Kelly and shook him. The man screamed. Broken ribs, Durg registered.

“Where is Blaise?”

“He’s going to kill him! He tried to save me! He’ll kill me!” Kelly babbled.

Durg kicked into a run. Through the ranks of shocked Zal’hma at’ Irg. “Go,” the Morakh roared at the assembled nobles. They went.