She had never seen the inside of his room before, and she had the feeling that she still wasn’t seeing it. The room held a bed and a storage cupboard, like any other room on this hall, and that was all. A few dirty clothes thrown into a corner, nothing more. No picture on the wall, no books or tapes, no radio or threedy It was a room for a night — worse, a prison cell. Herne collapsed onto the bed, his steel-wrapped legs protruding. No one made a move to join him there; Moon and Gundhalinu looked at his legs while trying not to. “So what do you want with Sparks Dawntreader after so long, pretty cousin?”

“We’re pledged.” Moon faced down the dark insinuation in his eyes. “I love him. I don’t want him to die.”

Herne laughed. “Oh, yeah. Arienrhod found his vows of faith fulness a real challenge; you ought to be proud. But she always gets what she wants in the end. How about you?”

Moon stiffened, clutching her belt. “I’ll get my way. But I have to find him first. Fate said maybe you’d know how—” She turned back to Tor.

Tor shrugged, apologetic. “You just missed him; he came to see the Source.” And I wondered why. Why would Starbuck come? Why would the Queen… ?

“Her plot gets thicker and thicker.” Herne grinned obscurely.

And he knew Sparks was Starbuck… Tor frowned inside her thoughts. What else does he know that he never told me?

“What do you mean, I just missed him?”

She refocused on Moon’s frustrated face. “He came from the palace with a message, about an hour ago.”

“And he left again with a couple of Blues on his tail,” Herne said smugly.

“What?” Tor raised her silver-dusted eyebrows.

“The Commander,” Gundhalinu said. “She must have put out an alert on him, now that she knows who he is.”

“What happened to him?” Moon’s fists twisted the painted belt leather. “Did they catch him?”

Herne grunted, amused. “Hah. Those suckers couldn’t catch cold,” for Gundhalinu. “He got away into the crowd. But if he’s a smart boy he’ll stick to the palace where Arienrhod can protect him from now until the Change.”

“He can’t! He can’t do that… Damn her!”

Tor saw the Blue try to comfort Moon, saw her twitch his arm off her shoulders, and the look on his face. Herne saw it, too, and smiled. Skeptical, Tor said, “Listen, if you were so devoted to him, kid, why did it take you five years to get around to this in the first place?”

“It hasn’t been years, just months!” Moon shut her eyes, head back. “Why couldn’t it have been the other way around? Why does it just keep getting harder?”

“Because you’re approaching Arienrhod,” Herne muttered, “and she’s the speed of light:”

“She was kidnapped off world by smugglers five years ago,” Gundhalinu ran over Herne’s words irritably. “She just got back.

She nearly died trying to get to Carbuncle to find him. Is that devoted enough for you?”

Tor quirked her mouth, softening against her will. “It seems to be good enough for you, off worlder You poor lovesick bleeder. “And good enough for Fate. But she’s going to have to go to the palace if she wants to find him now.”

“She can’t,” Gundhalinu said.

“Why not?” Moon looked at him. “I can slip into the palace and find him. If that’s what I have to do, I’ll do it.” Her eyes changed, grew dim and unseeing, as though she were having a seizure; when they cleared again resolution glittered. “It’s right — I will go there! I have to. I’m not afraid of Arienrhod.”

“And why should you be?” Herne stared at her, not really seeing her but something else.

“Shut up, pervert! I’ll tell you why.” Gundhalinu caught Moon’s arm. “Because Arienrhod — because she… because she’s — dangerous,” stupidly. Tor wondered, and Moon half-frowned. “She’s got guards all over the palace, and if she caught you trying to come between her and Starbuck… damn it, shed stop you! How the hell are you even going to find him, you can’t just go asking who’s seen him!”

“Why can’t she?” Herne grinned, hell’s advocate. “She’s got the best disguise anybody could ask for — Arienrhod’s face. She can do anything, and nobody’ll question it.”

“What about the real Queen?” Tor said.

“She’ll be entertaining the high lords of the Hedge, if you time it right. And I’ve got the thing that’ll make you perfect in the part.”

“What is it?” Moon moved forward, bright with hope. Gundhalinu looked knives over her shoulder.

But Herne’s gaze never left her; it moved slowly down her body and rose again to her face. Tor felt the static charge building between opposite poles inside him. “Spend an hour alone with me, Arienrhod, and it’s yours.”

Moon paled into an alabaster statue. Gundhalinu’s freckles turned scarlet with outrage.

“What are you going to do, Starbuck?” Tor jabbed vindictively. “Teach her how to play cards?”

Herne’s head swung toward her. When she saw what had happened to his face, she came closer to pitying him than she had ever come. “For gods’ sakes, Herne — don’t be a crud, for once in your life! Do something to prove you’ve got a right to be alive.”

Herne’s upper body quivered with pent emotion; but she saw it drain away, and he looked back at Moon again. “In there.” He pointed at the storage cupboard. “Open it.”

Moon went to the cupboard and pulled open the door. Tor saw clothes, and drugs, and half-empty bottles, and one shelf that was entirely empty except for a small black object.

“That’s it. Bring it here.”

Moon took it to him, handed it over, keeping her distance. He held it in the palm of his hand almost as if it were alive, stroking its surfaces with uncertain fingers. He touched a colored key, and then another, and another. Three changing notes sounded, loud in the cramped room’s silence.

“What does it control?” Gundhalinu asked.

“The wind.” Herne looked up at them all with defiant pride. “In the Hall of the Winds at Arienrhod’s palace. She has the only other one of these there is now. You’ll be able to get into the heart of the palace this way without anybody suspecting anything,” watching Moon again. “I’ll teach you how to use it, and where to look for Starbuck.”

“In return for what?” Moon’s hands closed over the desire to hold the box again, but her face was set for refusal.

Herne’s mouth twisted. “No strings. It’s yours by right… and when could I ever refuse you anything you wanted? Or give you anything you wouldn’t have, no matter how hard I tried…”

Gods, he really thinks it’s the Queen. Tor shook her head.

But a trace of sympathy crept into the mock-Queen’s eyes, and she said quietly, “If there’s ever — anything else I can give you…”

Herne glanced down at his atrophying legs. “No human being can give me that.”

“Well, look, if you’re going to the palace you can’t go looking like a refugee.” Tor pointed. “Come with me, I’ll find you some royal rags, or at least something that’ll cover up those.”

“Moon, you can’t go to the palace! I forbid it.” Gundhalinu blocked her way as she turned, desperately officious.

“BZ, I have to. I have to,” undaunted.

“You’re wasting your time; you’re risking your — soul, if you go there. He’s gone rotten, let him go, forget about him!” Gundhalinu 1 held out his hands to her. “Just this once listen to me! You’re

*! ’

I obsessed by a dream, a nightmare — wake up, for gods’ sakes! Be f lie ve me, I’m not asking this out of selfishness, Moon. You’re all I

care about; your safety…”

She shook her head, looking away. “Don’t try to stop me, BZ. Bell cause you can’t.” She went past him, and he made no move to hold it her. Tor led her out of the room.

I Gundhalinu stood looking after her, sealing his coat against a sudden chill; feeling Herne’s eyes boring into his skull, with no strength to turn back and face them.

I “You know the truth about her, don’t you?” Herne’s voice pulled at him. “You know they’re the same, Arienrhod and her.”