It took an hour, but once the contact was formed, there was never any doubt they would rendezvous. Illyana was the anchor, telepathy the chains, and Kelly and Tisianne were safe, for Blaise was brain deaf.

For years after, Tisianne would remember the conversation as a series of sound bites or MTV pulses. Kelly had done an impressive job self-teaching himself mentatics but lacked control. Tisianne offered hurried pointers…

And then they ended up back on Illyana. Delighting in her mind.

Kelly warned Tisianne of his body’s numerous drug allergies. Tis countered that natural childbirth is mandatory among the telepathic class. Survival of the fittest and all that…

And then they ended up back on Illyana, wondering about her eye color.

Kelly hesitantly and rather shyly told Tisianne about Bat’tam.

I remember now. It was Crossing. He danced with me.

Guys dance with each other?

This is a guy’s dance. Amusement at the groundling’s shocked sensibilities. A very pretty, energetic dance called the Condala. You’ll see it tonight. A cross between Russian and Middle Eastern styles. It’s very intriguing. A beau who’s nursed a crush for sixty-five years. Perhaps a suitor to make an honest woman of me.

I think he’s heading for Ilkala.

Impossible, Tis demurred. No one abandons House.

And they ended up back on Illyana, wondering how she would cope with her bizarre parentage – assuming any of them ended up back where they belonged.

Switching back to audible conversation, Tis warned, “I will not give her up.”

“I understand. Just so I can see her now and then.”

Before Tisianne would reply, Zabb screamed through her head like a five-alarm fire.

TROUBLE!

There was this swell hidden gallery running the entire circumference of the ballroom. The discovery had come quite by accident. Jay had seen clumps of psi lords cruising into this tiny cul de sac carrying candles and emerging minutes later sans candles. They sure as hell weren’t leaving them in the hall, so Jay had snooped, watching as they opened a secret panel in one of the pillars.

When there was a lull in the traffic, Jay tried it, and felt like a turd being flushed. Whatever it was, it wasn’t an elevator – more like one of the old pneumatic tubes that used to grace department stores in the twenties. The dizzying ascent slowed, and he found himself suspended in midair in front of a door.

Stepping out (or did one step off thin air?) seemed the wisest thing to do, so he did, and found himself in the gallery. It was creepy at first. There were hundreds of little candles flickering at the foot of those crystal pillars. Only instead of lights embedded in the crystal, there were people. Jay wondered what you had to do to get buried at the pole? Fuck up big? Or score big?

It made him nervous staring at those serene faces. As if they might wake up and start screaming impostor, burglar, thief, like in Alice in Wonderland. Resolutely Jay turned his back on the corpses and walked to the edge of the gallery. And that’s when he realized it was swell because he had a view of the entire ballroom, and… there was Blaise.

Jay carefully formed the forefinger of his right hand into a gun, and drew a bead on that powerful black-clad man.

– And had his hand twisted to point at the floor by an inexorable grip.

“No!” said Mark Meadows.

Kelly and Tisianne exchanged concerned glances.

“I’ll take you,” Kelly said as he assisted the Takisian from her chair. Keeping a supporting arm lightly about her waist, he escorted her to Zabb.

We’re a behavioral psychologist’s wet dream, Tis mused as she considered the roles they were falling into by virtue of their respective biologies.

They were the center of attention as the crowd swept back to make way for their passage. Waiting in a cleared area in the center of the ballroom were Zabb and Taj. They were ranged on one side with Blaise and Durg on the other. Tis wondered if she and Kelly were supposed to have brought the ball for the tip-off?

“You have disrupted this Crossing Festival on an obscure point of protocol. It had better be worth it,” Taj was growling as they arrived.

Blaise smiled slow and long, giving the impression of a killing beast stretching after a long sleep. “Oh, it will be.” He raised his voice. “But before we address these troublesome matters, I wish to share a bit of joy.” He gestured, and Durg held out a hand. A woman emerged from the crowd.

She was beautiful in that way only creatures bred for beauty can possess. Jewels completely covered the bone beneath her brows and swept up and away toward her hairline like wings. With that weight of ice she was certainly of the highest born. Her hair had been cropped short and was just beginning to grow out, indicating she had recently rotated back from space-platform duty. Where it was red, it was so intensely dark, it would probably appear black in some lights. But it was also stippled with white streaks. The Ss’ang bred for that piebald look, so she was some kind of outcross. She was also one hell of a mentat, for as she passed, Tis read nothing. It was as if there were a blank space, a psychic black hole walking past.

“Prince Tisianne, stop making time with that other woman and come meet your bride,” said Blaise with hearty bonhomie.

For an instant Tis was afraid that Kelly would faint. Tis gripped Kelly so tightly that she felt her nails puncture the fabric of his sleeve and hit flesh. Kelly shook it off, but his eyes were desperate.

Tis forced rubbery legs to move and placed herself inches from Blaise. “Blaise, my child, never ride a scam past its useful life. Fully half the people in this room know my psi signature. They know that’s not me.”

“It’s enough you where it counts. Between the legs.”

“I won’t! It’s gross!” Passion throbbed in the words. Tis winced. The teenage girl’s hysterical reaction delivered in a baritone voice was embarrassing.

Blaise stepped around Tisianne. Squared off with Zabb. “It’s the first step in the amalgamation of House Ilkazam into the new order.”

“The only one,” Zabb said softly.

“Are you fucking crazy!” Jay spluttered. “Look, I’ve got ’em all. Blaise, the body… even Tachy if we want to send her home fast too.”

The detective struggled fitfully, but Meadows had succeeded in locking both his hands behind his back. “You can’t. It’s Festival.”

“What is this crap? When did you become Takisian?”

“Jay, there’s, like, two of us, and probably a hundred thousand psi lords. Do you really want to piss them off by violating their customs and traditions this way?”

Taj was shaking with anger, his hands opening and closing spasmodically. “You mudcrawler, you rotting abortion, this is Crossing. You denigrate our traditions -”

“You want tradition?” Blaise snarled. He grabbed for Tisianne, but Zabb yanked her away so Blaise’s fingertips only grazed the skin of her arm.

Even that brief touch made the edges of the room, the people, vanish into a red haze. Only Blaise’s face remained clear. Leering down at her. Peering up from between her legs. The pounding. The pain deep in her body.

“This woman is carrying my child. That makes her mine. And on that point I believe your customs, traditions, and protocol agree.”

Ruek of Jeban stepped forward. “What custom decrees is that the child should die. It’s an abomination…just like you.”

Blaise’s eyes widened. “You’ll be next,” he promised softly. So great was Blaise’s power and the touch of his madness that Ruck took an involuntary step back. The watching families didn’t miss it.

Raising his voice, Blaise said, “No half-breed dies in my holdings.”