male and middle-aged, spoke Terran with the affected drawl of the upper classes and originated somewhere near the plate steel midsection.
"Jeeves," Shan said calmly. "Good day to you. Have you seen the children lately?"
"Miss Padi is in the garden with Mr. pel'Jonna, partaking of a botany lesson. Master Syl Vor and Ms. Gamkoda are engaged in geography, and Miss Shindi and Master Mik are having an early-morning nap."
"Dear me, what exemplary behavior! I believe they may be ill."
"On the contrary, sir, they enjoy their customary robust health. I believe, if I may say so, that this morning's quietude may be attributed to Miss Nova's promise that they would be allowed to visit you only if they behaved as became those of Korval."
"Ever more terrifying! But perhaps they don't yet have a firm grasp of family history."
"As you say, sir."
Shan grinned and turned right. "To my sister in the study, then! Be well, Jeeves."
"Be well, sir."
He went perhaps half a dozen paces before turning back. "Jeeves!"
"Sir?" The midsection rotated, and the orange ball lit in inquiry.
"Is Miss Anthora in the house? And Gordy?"
"Miss Anthora is with the First Speaker in the study. Your foster son has contracted an alliance of pleasure with Karae yo'Lanna and spent last evening in her company. Shall I contact Glavda Empri and inquire for him?"
"Ken Rik's granddaughter, is it? No, don't disturb the child; just ask him to call me at his earliest opportunity. The Passage will know where I am, if he doesn't find me here or at Pelthraza Street."
"Very good, sir." Jeeves rotated once more and wheeled off in pursuit of other imperatives. Shan grinned and headed for the study.
The door slid away and two heads turned toward him—one blond and one dark, violet eyes and silver. Anthora stood and came forward, small hands outstretched, welcome riding a warm wave between them.
"Shan-brother."
He ignored the hands and bent to hug her. "Hello, denubia. How's the contract-husband?"
She laughed, nose wrinkling. "Many days gone, thank the gods! But the twins are very good, don't you think?"
"Very good, indeed. I could have done no better."
That earned another laugh as a tug on his sleeve pulled him across the carpet to where Nova waited in cool uncertainty.
"Sister." He smiled and extended a hand, marking with what relief she took it. Not for the first time, he regretted that Nova's talent was one that gave her access only to the memories of those already dead, rather than to the living emotion all about her.
"Brother. Thank you for coming so promptly."
"The least I could do, when you'd gone to so much trouble and expense! Only why a pin-beam to the Passage, denubia, when a local call might have gotten you the same result?"
She looked coldly into his face, every inch the First Speaker of Liad's First Clan, her hand gripping his until he feared for the bones.
"Local calls can be too easily traced," she said. "Come see what we have." She waved to the comm on its corner of the wide desk.
"I've seen it," Anthora said to his hesitation, her emotive grid suddenly and suspiciously bland. "Would you care for some morning wine to help you read, brother?"
"Wine by all means—but not morning wine. A glass of the red, if you please." He glanced at Nova's face, but saw only waiting there while her pattern glimmered, chameleonlike, too changeable to read.
He slid into the desk chair and tipped the screen to the proper height. Amber letters spelled out words in High Liaden:
*COMMUNICATION BEGINS*
GREETINGS.
TO NOVA YOS'GALAN FIRST SPEAKER-IN-TRUST CLAN KORVAL, SHE WHO REMEMBERS, FIRST SISTER TO OUR SHARED BROTHER, VAL CON YOS'PHELIUM SCOUT, ARTIST OF THE EPHEMERAL, SLAYER OF THE ELDEST DRAGON, KNIFE CLAN OF MIDDLE RIVER'S SPRING SPAWN OF FARMER GREENTREES OF THE SPEARMAKER'S DEN, TOUGH GUY.
Shan blinked and leaned back in the chair, absently accepting the glass from Anthora's hand, wondering at the
"Jeeves," Shan said calmly. "Good day to you. Have you seen the children lately?"
"Miss Padi is in the garden with Mr. pel'Jonna, partaking of a botany lesson. Master Syl Vor and Ms. Gamkoda are engaged in geography, and Miss Shindi and Master Mik are having an early-morning nap."
"Dear me, what exemplary behavior! I believe they may be ill."
"On the contrary, sir, they enjoy their customary robust health. I believe, if I may say so, that this morning's quietude may be attributed to Miss Nova's promise that they would be allowed to visit you only if they behaved as became those of Korval."
"Ever more terrifying! But perhaps they don't yet have a firm grasp of family history."
"As you say, sir."
Shan grinned and turned right. "To my sister in the study, then! Be well, Jeeves."
"Be well, sir."
He went perhaps half a dozen paces before turning back. "Jeeves!"
"Sir?" The midsection rotated, and the orange ball lit in inquiry.
"Is Miss Anthora in the house? And Gordy?"
"Miss Anthora is with the First Speaker in the study. Your foster son has contracted an alliance of pleasure with Karae yo'Lanna and spent last evening in her company. Shall I contact Glavda Empri and inquire for him?"
"Ken Rik's granddaughter, is it? No, don't disturb the child; just ask him to call me at his earliest opportunity. The Passage will know where I am, if he doesn't find me here or at Pelthraza Street."
"Very good, sir." Jeeves rotated once more and wheeled off in pursuit of other imperatives. Shan grinned and headed for the study.
The door slid away and two heads turned toward him—one blond and one dark, violet eyes and silver. Anthora stood and came forward, small hands outstretched, welcome riding a warm wave between them.
"Shan-brother."
He ignored the hands and bent to hug her. "Hello, denubia. How's the contract-husband?"
She laughed, nose wrinkling. "Many days gone, thank the gods! But the twins are very good, don't you think?"
"Very good, indeed. I could have done no better."
That earned another laugh as a tug on his sleeve pulled him across the carpet to where Nova waited in cool uncertainty.
"Sister." He smiled and extended a hand, marking with what relief she took it. Not for the first time, he regretted that Nova's talent was one that gave her access only to the memories of those already dead, rather than to the living emotion all about her.
"Brother. Thank you for coming so promptly."
"The least I could do, when you'd gone to so much trouble and expense! Only why a pin-beam to the Passage, denubia, when a local call might have gotten you the same result?"
She looked coldly into his face, every inch the First Speaker of Liad's First Clan, her hand gripping his until he feared for the bones.
"Local calls can be too easily traced," she said. "Come see what we have." She waved to the comm on its corner of the wide desk.
"I've seen it," Anthora said to his hesitation, her emotive grid suddenly and suspiciously bland. "Would you care for some morning wine to help you read, brother?"
"Wine by all means—but not morning wine. A glass of the red, if you please." He glanced at Nova's face, but saw only waiting there while her pattern glimmered, chameleonlike, too changeable to read.
He slid into the desk chair and tipped the screen to the proper height. Amber letters spelled out words in High Liaden:
*COMMUNICATION BEGINS*
GREETINGS.
TO NOVA YOS'GALAN FIRST SPEAKER-IN-TRUST CLAN KORVAL, SHE WHO REMEMBERS, FIRST SISTER TO OUR SHARED BROTHER, VAL CON YOS'PHELIUM SCOUT, ARTIST OF THE EPHEMERAL, SLAYER OF THE ELDEST DRAGON, KNIFE CLAN OF MIDDLE RIVER'S SPRING SPAWN OF FARMER GREENTREES OF THE SPEARMAKER'S DEN, TOUGH GUY.
Shan blinked and leaned back in the chair, absently accepting the glass from Anthora's hand, wondering at the
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