She forced her unwilling eyes back to the three still sitting at the table — one face inscrutable, one bowed with shame, one winking with the track of acid-drop tears. She did not answer; but it was enough. He led her back to the table.

“Moon, please understand, please believe me… it’s because your happiness is so important to me that I couldn’t bring myself to tell you.” Elsevier’s voice was thin and brittle. “And because I wanted you to stay.”

Moon stood silently, feeling her face as rigid and cold as a mask. Elsevier looked away from it. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” Moon forced the words out past frozen lips. “I know you are. But it doesn’t change anything.” She sank down among the pillows, strengthless but still unforgiving.

“The wrong has been done, sister-in-law,” Aspundh said. “And the question remains — what will you do to repair it?”

“Anything within my power.”

“Our power,” Cress said.

“Then take me home, Elsevier!”

“I can’t. All the reasons I gave you are true. It’s too late. But we can give you a new life.”

“I don’t want a new life. I want the old one.”

“Five years, Moon,” Cress said. “How will you find him, after five years?”

“I don’t know.” She brought her fists together. “But I have to go back to Tiamat! It isn’t finished. I can feel it, it isn’t finished!” Something resonated in the depths of her mind; a distant bell. “If you can’t take me, there must be a ship that can. Help me find one—”

“They couldn’t take you either.” Cress shifted among the cushions. “It’s forbidden; once you leave Tiamat, the law says you can’t go home again. Your world is proscribed.”

“They can’t—” She felt her fury rising.

“They can, youngster.” Aspundh held up his hand. “Only tell me, what do you mean, ‘it isn’t finished?” How do you know that?”

“I — I don’t know.” She looked down, disconcerted.

“Just that you don’t want to believe it’s finished.”

“No, I know!” suddenly, fiercely certain. “I just don’t know-how.”

“I see.” He frowned, more with consternation than disapproval.

“She can’t,” Cress murmured. “Can she?”

“Sometimes it happens.” Aspundh looked somber. “We are the hands of the sibyl-machine. Sometimes it manipulates us to its own ends. I think we should at least try to learn whether her leaving has made any difference, if we can.”

Moon’s eyes fixed on him in disbelief, like the rest.

Cress laughed tightly beside her. “You mean it — acts on its own? Why? How?”

“That’s one of the patterns we’re still trying to relearn. It can be damnably inscrutable, as I’m sure you know. But anything able to perform all its functions would almost have to possess some kind of sentience.”

Moon sat impatiently, only half listening, half understanding. “How can I learn that — whether I have to go back?”

“You have the key, sibyl. Let me ask, and you’ll have the answer.”

“You mean… No, I can’t! I can’t!” She grimaced.

He settled onto his knees, smoothing his silver-wire hair. “Then ask, and I will answer. Input…” His eyes faded as he fell into Transfer.

She swallowed, taken by surprise, said self-consciously, “Tell me what — what will happen if I, Moon Dawntreader, never go back to Tiamat?”

She watched his eyes blink with sudden amazement, search the light-dappled corners of the room, come back to their faces, to hers alone—”You, Moon Dawntreader, sibyl, ask this? You are the one. The same one… but not the same. You could be her, you could be the Queen… He loved you, but he loves her now; the same, but not the same. Come back — your loss is a wound turning good flesh bitter, here in the City’s heart… an un healing wound… The past becomes a continuous future, unless you break the

Change… No further analysis!” Aspundh’s head dropped forward; he leaned against the table for a long moment before he looked up again. “It seemed to be — night, there.” He took a sip from his drink. “And the room was full of strange faces…”

Moon picked up her own glass, drank to loosen the invisible hand closing on her throat. He loved you, but he loves her now.

“What did I say?” Aspundh looked toward her, clear eyed again, but his face was drained and drawn.

She told him, haltingly, helped on by the others. “But I don’t understand it…” I don’t understand it! How could he love… She bit her lip. Elsevier’s hand touched hers lightly, briefly.

“You could be Queen,” Aspundh said. “Your loss is an unhealing wound. I think you had a true intuition… your role in a greater play has been left unfilled. An inequality has been created.”

“But it’s already happened,” Elsevier said slowly. “Doesn’t that mean it was meant to happen?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “I don’t pretend to know. I am a technocrat, not a philosopher. The interpretation is not up to me, thank the gods. Whether it’s finished or not is up to Moon.”

Moon stiffened. “You mean — there is a way I can go back to Tiamat?”

“Yes, I think there is. Elsevier will take you, if you still want to go.”

“But you said—”

“KR, it isn’t possible!”

“If you leave immediately and use the adaptors I’ll provide, you’ll get through the Gate safely, and before Tiamat is cut off for good.”

“But we don’t have an astrogator.” Elsevier leaned forward. “Cress isn’t strong enough.”

“You have an astrogator.” His gaze moved.

Moon stopped breathing as all their eyes reached her at once. “No!”

“No, KR,” Elsevier said, frowning. “You can’t ask her to endure that again! She couldn’t if she wanted to.”

“She can — if she wants to enough.” Aspundh touched his trefoil. “I can help you, Moon; you won’t have to go through it unprepared this time. If you want your old life back, and your power as a sibyl, you can — you must — do this thing. We can’t face down all our night fears; but you must face this one, or you’ll never believe in yourself again. You’ll never use the precious gift you carry; you’ll never be anything at all.” The sharp voice stung her. He folded his hands, resting them on the table.

Moon shut her eyes, and the blackness swallowed her whole. But it isn’t finished yet. I was meant to be something more! And he was meant to be with me. He can’t be lost, he wouldn’t forget me; it isn’t finished… Sparks ’s face burned away the darkness like a rising sun. It was true, she had to do this; and if she did she would know that she had the strength to solve any problem. She opened her eyes, rubbed her trembling arms to still them. “I have to try.” She saw the half-formed grief in Elsevier’s deep-blue eyes — and the half-formed fear. “Elsie, it means everything to me. I won’t fail you.”

“Of course you won’t, dear.” A single nod, a ghost of smile. “All right, we’ll do it. But KR—” she glanced up. “How will we back again without her get?”

His own smile twitched with secret guilt. “With false papers, which I shall also provide. In the chaos of the final departure on Tiamat, you’ll never noticed be, I’m sure, even — Silky.”

“Why, KR, you secret sinner.” She laughed weakly.

“I don’t it amusing consider.” His face did not. “If I teach this girl all that a sibyl should know and then send her back to Tiamat, I will an act of treason be committing. But in doing this I obey a higher law than even the Hegemony’s.”

“Forgive me.” She nodded, chastened. “What about our ship?”

“It will a fitting monument in space to my late brother’s impossible — dreams be. I told you that you’d never for anything want, El sevier. Do this thing, and you’ll never again need to smuggle.”

“Thank you.” A spark of rebellion showed in her eyes. “We were planning to retire, anyway, if this last trip hadn’t such an utter disaster been. This gives us one more opportunity our wares to — deliver, after all.”

Aspundh frowned briefly.

Cress unfolded his legs with leaden effort as the others began to stir. Looking at him, Moon found him looking at her; his glance hurried on, caught at Elsevier like an orphan’s hand. He grinned, badly. “I guess this is good-bye, then, Elsie?”