“Child, child, we should not be meeting like this.” Bat’tam rolled an eye toward the bed. “It tempts me far too much.”

“I didn’t meet you to fuck, I met you to talk.” Something of Kelly’s urgency must have communicated itself, because Bat’tam lost some of his prissy, precise attitude. A quick touch opaqued the walls with a blinding kaleidoscope of rainbow colors.

“What are you doing here?” Kelly demanded.

“It’s Festival. Everyone attends Festival.”

“When you vanished last week, I thought you’d gotten smart and split…” Bat’tam was frowning in confusion. “You know, run away from Blaise,” Kelly amplified. “He’s gonna kill you.”

The urbane, cynical mask dropped back into place like a presidium curtain falling. “I had rather apprehended that. That’s why I’m making a protracted stay in Vayam.”

“You’ve gotta go a lot farther than Vayam if you’re going to be safe from Blaise!”

“My sweet one, Zal’hma at’ Irg do not transfer alliance from House to House. I am Vayawand.”

“Then you’re dead, and that’s really stupid. Go to Ilkazam. Maybe you can help them. Somebody’s got to stop Blaise.”

He gnawed at his lower lip. “It’s never been done.”

“A lot of shit is happening that’s never happened before,” Kelly countered. “Run goddamn it, run!”

Bat’tam caught Kelly by the shoulders. “If I do, it will leave you without a friend in House Vayawand.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think he’s going to kill me -” Kelly’s mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “At least not yet. Your suggestion about my precious bodily fluids got him thinking, and he’s got some big something planned.”

“Bravery sits oddly on you. From where did this sudden resolve arise?”

Kelly shrugged. “You can’t be scared all the time. After a while you just stop feeling anything. Besides, you’re the only person who’s ever been nice to me – even if you are doing it for the boy you saw dancing sixty-five years ago, and not really for me. I could at least pretend it was for me. I’m pretty good at pretending… But anyway, I don’t want you dead, so please go.”

Bat’tam’s hand closed on his sharply pointed chin, and Kelly could feel the nobleman rummaging about in his mind. The probe was withdrawn, and the old man ran his palms down the other man’s smooth cheeks.

You know, girl, for the first time I’ve actually seen you.”

There was nothing romantic in the kiss. Lips, a little dry and very wrinkled, pressing hard against his. Tongue forcing its way past the barrier of his teeth.

Would Tachyon have minded? Analyzing that question and trying to unsnarl his tangled emotions kept Kelly motionless.

Bat’tam paused at the door. Glanced back, grinned. “That doesn’t quite make it all worth while… but it helps to ease the pain.”

She checked slightly on the threshold, and Zabb smiled to himself. Had he finally succeeded in impressing her? And it was an impressive display. Oh, not the numbers… a mere five Houses meeting with House Ilkazam… but the power represented by those Houses.

Probably because they have the most to lose, came Tisianne’s thought. Still, it was a diplomatic coup on Zabb’s part. I didn’t think he had it in him.

Zabb leaned in close to her and whispered, “Thank you.” He knew the ease with which he read her mind would rattle her. It did.

Zabb added his telepathy to her feeble power so she could read the surface indigestion bubbling off the minds of the five Raiyises and their military commanders. Old Yimkin’s was the worst, though some of his distress wasn’t just worry over the Abomination. It was grief at seeing Tisianne in her current predicament.

If one could be said to have friends of a rival, Raiyis Yimkin would qualify. The histories of House Ilkazam and House Tandeh were strewn with a series of brief but lucrative treaties. One of Tisianne’s sisters had in fact been married into Tandeh. That the marriage ended tragically was no the fault of Yimkin. At Jadlan’s funeral, the bluff, sunburned seaman had carried a grieving fourteen-year-old Tisianne away and wrapped the weeping boy in a tight embrace.

“We are discussing the feasibility of an alliance,” Zabb said.

“I’m delighted to see it,” Tis replied. “And though I’m honored by the confidence, I wonder at my inclusion. I’m not a soldier – wasn’t then, am certainly not now.”

But you know Blaise,” Taj said. “His strengths and weaknesses.”

“So how do we minimize the first and exploit the second, cousin?” Zabb asked.

“His strengths are rather evident – several hundred Morakhs -”

“Our wits have gone begging,” Yimkin interrupted. He shook his head, setting the bells braided into his full beard to ringing. “Here, child, take a seat.” He rose and offered his.

Watching the flush blossom in her cheeks, Zabb knew how much the courtesy irritated her, but she took the proffered chair. Tisianne had always preferred comfort over principle.

Until that last wild gesture, Zabb corrected himself. He had plucked small memories of Earth from her mind, and most were either sad or terrifying. No, fifty years in the mud had taught Tis to suffer.

“The Morakhs aren’t enough to ensure his safety. Burning Sky, what’s the matter with the Zal’hma at’ Irg?” Quar’ande exploded.

“The same thing that would be wrong with any of us,” Taj replied. “He has empowered young cadet lines within the House. He’s promised them conquest, and he’s delivered.”

“But he’s an abomination,” Gabru wailed.

“He’s successful,” Tisianne broke in. “For the moment that is all that matters. Oh, they comfort themselves with the argument that once Takis is theirs, they’ll remove him -”

“But it won’t happen,” Zabb interrupted. “He commands the will and the loyalty of the Tarhiji.”

“But how?” Yimkin asked.

Zabb smiled grimly. “I defer to my cousin. She seems to have a somewhat better grasp of this matter than I do.”

Zabb had heard much of this before, and he could request amplification once they were back home, so he paid only scant attention to the briefing.

Instead he sat and watched Tisianne. The emotions darkening or sparkling in the wide gray eyes. The mobile little mouth with its absurdly short upper lip. The soft voice concisely and without elaboration detailing the personality of her tormentor. She was careful to touch on none of the horrors she had endured. Was that pride or fear? That she was desperately afraid of her grandson there was no doubt. Tisianne in male form was a volatile little man. He spoke almost as much with his hands as with his voice. Tisianne in female form kept her hands clasped lightly in her lap, but Zabb saw the delicate trembling. Once, only once, did she execute a sharp, punctuating gesture. There was a flicker of reaction from Yimkin and Gabru.

She should have worn gloves, Zabb thought. Hide those scars. I wonder who stopped her. Or did this new, stronger Tisianne stop herself? I certainly can’t ask her, and is it worth thought theft?

“If you thwart Blaise, be certain you are ready for the reaction. He will lash out at whatever is convenient, and with a barbarity that will shock even us,” Tis said.

She fell silent. Zabb looked at the other men.

“Questions? Comments?” Head shakes all around. “Thank you, cousin. Can you find your way back to your stirpes without escort?”

“Yes.” She stood and shook out her skirt. Walked to the door. Paused. Looked back at all of them. Desperation was etched in the tendons of her neck, the lines about her mouth. “Please… please, don’t kill him. He is my only way home.”

Zabb just pushed her gently back through the door.

After her abrupt ejection from the meeting, Tis felt very much at loose ends. She was afraid of running into Blaise. Mark seemed to have vanished. Her sisters were all celebrating with their husbands and children. No one wanted her fear or her unhappiness near them. There was only one person who shared them both.