“So you use your new laws when it suits you, and the old when that works best,” Taj said sarcastically.

“Our Raiyis writes new laws and will build a new world,” said Sekal, one of the Vayawand nobles who surrounded Blaise. Pride and adoration filled his words.

“In other words, I use whatever works.” Blaise added and smiled engagingly. It was horrifying.

There are times in life when you know that doom is rolling toward you. Tisianne had felt it when he had waited for the decision of the House Un-American Activities Committee in 1950. She had felt it again as she had stood before the Ajayiz, and Zabb had banished her to Rarrana. She felt it now. Which is why Taj’s passionate advocacy had no power to move her. He was going to fail.

Taj tried. He raised every imaginable objection, and a few that made no sense at all. When he saw he was losing the battle, he switched to delaying tactics – agreeing that Blaise could have her, but only after a genetic match was run to establish paternity. That didn’t work either.

The decision of the Families was clear, and it had nothing to do with custom and protocol, and a hell of a lot to do with the fact that the Vayawand and their young Raiyis were scaring the crap out of everyone.

There never was anything so overt as a vote, but suddenly the crowd was dissipating like wind-torn smoke, and Blaise was walking toward her, his hand outstretched.

“They’re going to give her to him,” Mark choked out, and Jay realized the gangling ace was crying.

“Okay, that’s it, party’s over.” Jay fashioned his gun.

It wasn’t conscious. It wasn’t even a decision. It was instinct and survival. Tisianne snatched a knife from the buffet table and flung herself at Blaise.

There was a whirlwind of motion, and Durg was between them. The knife cut through his finery and bit deep into the chest.

A gasp like a thousand winds in a thousand pines swept the hall, and several nobles from House Vayawand bore their Raiyis to the floor. The music stuttered to a halt. Silence. And tension as everyone waited to see if the violence would escalate.

Jay and Mark hung over the railing. Jay was cursing fluently and monotonously because he’d lost his bead on Blaise. Tisianne began backing slowly away from Durg. Blood was staining the front of the Morakh’s shirt. Tis looked down at the knife in her hand as if surprised to find it there, dropped it. The sound of the blade hitting the floor was deafening in the unnatural silence.

Zabb suddenly strode forward and dealt Tisianne a powerful backhand blow across the face, knocking her to the floor. Then a broad-shouldered Takisian with a chest-brushing beard made an intricate sign with his right hand, spit between his fingers, and deliberately turned his back on the fallen woman. By twos and threes, and then by the hundreds, the assembled lords and ladies did the same.

Zabb walked back to where Taj stood. He had been joined by Tisianne’s six sisters. They weren’t spitting at her yet, but it was clear they were all as shocked as the other families.

Durg moved to Tisianne and swung her up in his arms. Carried her toward the knot of men surrounding Blaise.

“Now, Jay, do it now.”

With a soft pop Tisianne vanished.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

There were about three seconds of total silence. Then the ballroom erupted in pandemonium. Durg was staring at his now-empty arms in amazement. Zabb started toward the Morakh, was caught and pulled away by Taj.

“Come on, you motherfucker!” Jay screamed. “Surface!” Blaise remained obdurately out of sight.

Then both Jay and Mark bowed beneath the imperative call from the Ajayiz of House Ilkazam. The House was shamed. They were withdrawing from Festival.

Mark shook himself free of the last lingering effects of that telepathic summons. “Look, I gotta split. I’ll let it seem like I’m the one who popped the Doc.”

“What about me?” Jay asked.

“Guess you go home with the dirty dishes.”

“Gee, thanks. Do I get a little appreciation for saving the day? Shit, no.”

“I’m very appreciative. And extremely impressed,” came a voice from behind the two men.

The humans whirled. Mark taking a tighter grip on his briefcase. A brief examination of the man, and Mark felt himself relax. The jewels inset in his face proclaimed his House, but he was elderly, and the elaborate eye makeup, lipstick, and powder made it pretty clear he was a fairy. Also, if he’d wanted to fuck with their head, he would have done it before now.

“I am Bat’tam. Lately of House Vayawand. I am desirous of traveling to Ilkala, but travel is so fatiguing, and I was wondering if you might be kind enough to remove me the way you removed Tisianne?”

“Why should we?” Jay asked.

“Oh, no particular reason. I was just hoping to avoid being killed by Blaise brant Gisele.”

Jay rolled an eye to Mark. The ace stared at the Takisian for a long moment. “Go for it.”

Tisianne leaned against the door of the cell and cursed Jay. He’d seen her suite. Did he send her there? No, he sent her to a cell. The house was deserted. The Zal’hma celebrating, the Tarhiji freed from their duties and celebrating.

With a groan she slid down the door and with gentle fingers explored her aching face. The eye was swollen almost shut, and one of Zabb’s rings had gouged her cheek.

There was a soft pop, and a man appeared in the cell. Tis screamed. He yelled. They both eyed each other. He looked familiar. Tis tried to recall from where. The man knelt and offered his mind the way a hound shows throat as a gesture of good faith. Bat’tam, Tis read.

“Oh, Ideal, you.”

Bat’tam didn’t make the mistake of reading the emphasis as complimentary. He stood, brushed off the knees of his pants, and peered down at her. Eventually he said, “So that’s what she really looks like.”

“What?”

“Kelly.”

“I’m going to kill Jay.”

“Don’t agitate yourself. I asked him to send me – fascinating mode of travel – legacy of the Enhancer?… Oh, yes, I’m switching allegiance.”

“You’re babbling. You’re also insane.”

“No, Kelly made an excellent point. The unthinkable becomes commonplace when the world is collapsing. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“I’m cold, may I have your coat?”

“A pleasure.” He covered her. “Would you like to rest your head in my lap?”

“I think not,” Tis said stiffly. Then angrily added, “Ideal, it’ll be hours before we get out of here!”

“No. Ilkazam had just been ejected from Festival when I left. Shouldn’t be too long.”

Tisianne groaned. “Oh, Ancestors, I ruined everything.”

“Well, let’s just say you had a rather stunning effect on the proceedings.”

Rescue hadn’t been long in coming. Bat’tam had been left in the cell. Mark had rushed Tis back to Rarrana and into her suite, where they were now tensely awaiting the inevitable arrival of Zabb.

“Here, try this,” said Mark. Supporting her head, he held the glass to her lips. She swallowed with difficulty. Suddenly Tis stretched out a hand to Mark. The ace was pleased to see it. As a man Tisianne had needed a lot of physical contact – a need that on Earth had driven most of Tis’s male friends to distraction. Now as a woman she could scarcely tolerate it.

And who could blame her? Repeated rapes and beatings. I wonder if she’ll ever be right. I wonder if she’ll be right even if we get her back where he belongs.

Mark assumed the good old smiling Mark Meadows face, took Tis’s hand, and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“What’s that expression mean?” Trips asked.

“I am trying to imagine you kissing me… I mean me, me. I’m failing.”