Del contemplated this. Eventually she said, "Not a comfortable way to live."

"And a less comfortable way to die."

"But so long as Nihko has guest-right, Sahdri can't take him."

"You'll recall Prima asked that very thing: could Sahdri take Nihko."

"Who dismissed the possibility."

I shrugged. "Nihko seems not to want to talk about any of this."

"Well," Del said, "he's been tossed out of his family, and then tossed himself out of this fellowship of men who think they can toss him into the sky. I don't know that I'd want to talk about it either."

"And the metri has made it clear as soon as her business with him is finished, the guest-right is revoked."

"What is her business with him?"

"I'm assuming it's connected to this whole discovery-and-recovery-of-the-missing-heir issue," I said. "We don't know what kind of bargain Nihko drove on his captain's behalf before presenting me as the long-lost grandson."

"Which you are."

"Which I maybe am-but am as likely not."

"Maybe."

"Maybe." I tilted my head back, let the surface of the water creep up to surround the edges of my face. "I don't think it really matters."

"You can't be certain of that, Tiger."

I sighed. "No. I can't read the woman."

"So she may well mean you to inherit."

"Maybe."

"Maybe."

"And then there's Herakleio," I said, "who stands to lose more than any of us."

"Who's 'us'?"

"You, because of me. Me because of me. Prima Rhannet. Nihkolara."

"Why do you include them?"

"Because the connection is there. It's like a wheel, bascha-the metri is the hub, and everyone else is a spoke. But the spokes fall apart if there is no hub, and then the wheel isn't a wheel anymore. Just a pile of useless wood."

"So you believe there is more to it than a simple reward for finding the long-lost heir."

"I have a theory." I smiled, staring at the arch of the dome high overhead. "And I don't believe 'simple' is a word the metri knows."

"What is your complicated theory?"

I had sorted the pieces out some while back. Now I presented them to Del. "That I am a threat to all of them for very different reasons."

Del, understanding, began naming them off. "The metri."

"Either I am or am not her grandson; either way, it doesn't matter. It's Herakleio she wants. If I remain, I'm a threat to him."

"Herakleio."

"Obvious. I repeat: if I remain, I'm a threat to him."

"Prima Rhannet."

"If I'm not the metri's long-lost heir, Prima loses out on whatever reward it is she demanded."

"And Nihkolara?"

"The same applies to him as to his captain, but there's more …"

She waited, then prompted me. "Well?"

"I just don't know what it is."

"If his captain lost the reward, he'd lose his share."

"That's the most obvious factor, yes. But I think there's more." I shrugged. "Like I said, I just don't know what it is."

"Maybe," Del said dryly, "it has to do with his chances of being flung off the spire. So long as you're accepted as the metri's grandson, he's got guest-right. He's safe from Sahdri and his fellow priest-mages who'd like to forcibly merge him."

"Maybe that's it," I agreed. "But I still believe there's a piece missing."

"And once it's found and all the pieces are put together?"

I stood up in the water, let it sheet off my shoulders. The name for the unflagging unease was obvious now.

Expendability.

"Once it's found, they'll kill me."

THIRTY-ONE

THOUGH CLAD again in the leather tunic, Del dripped all the way to the room we shared. She hadn't done much in the way of drying off, and her hair was sopping. "We will discuss this," she declared, following. "You can't announce they'll kill you, then let the subject drop."

I was considerably dryer than Del and less inclined to drip, which I had no doubt Simonides and the household staff would appreciate. "I'm not expendable yet," I told her, striding along through room after room and doorway after doorway. "At least, I don't think so. But I'm just not sure there is more to say right now."

"Tiger, stop. "

I recognized that voice. Accordingly I stopped just across the threshold of our room, turned to her, and waited.

Rivulets of hair dribbled water down the leather. Her eyes were fierce as she came into the room behind me. "We have to come up with a plan."

"I'm listening."

She gestured. "Leave?"

"We discussed that before. No one will hire on to sail us off the island, even if we had the coin to hire them."

"Give up your claim?"

"I never made a claim. The metri made it for me; everyone else just assumed I wanted to be heir."

"Give it up anyway," she said urgently. "Reject the metri outright. Say you aren't her grandson and you want to leave."

"Yes, well, there's a little matter of this 'term of service,' remember? The metri is likely our only way off the island, and she's not about to arrange it for us until she's accomplished whatever it is she wishes to accomplish, or I've accomplished for her whatever it is she wants me to accomplish for her."

"Herakleio?" she suggested. "Wouldn't he help? If you said you'd voluntarily give up any claim on the metri, would he help us get a ship?"

"Can he?" I shrugged. "He has no coin of his own, remember."

Del answered promptly. "He can borrow against his inheritance."

"But could he do that, and would the metri allow him to inherit if he did?"

She glared at me. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Play the game out."

Del was annoyed. "What game?"

"The metri's game. Give her what she wants until I see an opening."

A movement in the hallway. Del and I turned to see Prima Rhannet coming to a halt at the threshold. "I am your opening," she announced.

I looked her up and down, purposefully assessing her. "And just how is that?"

There was neither amusement nor irony in her expression. Only determination. "I need your help."

"How precisely is that our opening?" Del asked icily.

Prima shot her an angry, impatient glance, then looked back at me. Her expression was, oddly, guilty. "I have drugged Nihko."

That was pretty much the last thing I'd ever thought to hear exit her mouth. "You've drugged your first mate?"

She glanced over her shoulder furtively, then stepped into the room and shut the door with a decisive thud. Ruddy hair spilled like blood over her shoulders. No doubt about it; she was feeling guilty. Through taut lips, she said, "I gave it to him in his wine at dinner, while you took your ease in the bathing pool."

The imagery was amusing. "And is he therefore unconscious with his face in the plate?"

Prima, who was not amused, set her teeth so hard jaw muscles flexed. "He is unconscious in bed in our room," she said with precise enunciation, then let it spill out of her mouth in a jumble of words as if to say it fast diluted some of the guilt. "I want to get him back aboard ship as soon as possible, and I need your help for that."

"Why can't he just walk aboard ship?-that is, if you hadn't drugged his wine," I added dryly. "Isn't it his home?"

Her expression was bitter. "So long as the metri has extended guest-right, he will not leave. He honors her for her courtesy." Something glinted in her eyes that wasn't laughter. It was, I thought, a desperate pride. "You know nothing about him. You have no idea what manner of man he is-or what they will do to him."

Oh, yes, I did. "Throw him off the spire," I said quietly.

It shocked her that I knew. For a moment she stood very rigidly, staring at us both; then she set her spine against the wood of the door and slowly slid down it until she sat loose-limbed on the floor, staring blankly at the wall. I recalled the evening we'd sat so companionably upon the floor, the wall propping us up, as we shared a winejar.