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twisted to glare at me. “On my side, human?”
    I shrugged. “I’ll do what I can, if you try not to murder any of your cousins. Pretty sure that’s punishable by execution, isn’t it?”
    “Damn you, human,” said Markos. “I suppose you have our entire law scroll memorised.”
    “You’re not the only one who hates politics,” I said. “I’m supposed to oversee the council meetings and make sure the heir–you, I suppose–doesn’t get himself killed, too. How you sort out your feud is not my problem.”
    “This feud will stop when they erase the word “duty” from their vocabulary.”
    I had a few choice things to say on that subject… none of which would be advisable in front of four pissed-off centaurs, and most of which wouldn’t translate into Aglaian.
    “One quick question,” I said. “None of them understand English, do they?”
    Markos shook his head. “Only a handful do on all of Aglaia.”
    “Right.” I lowered my voice all the same. “Not to tread on any toes here… or hooves… but is there absolutely no chance the murderer wasn’t a relation? I know,” I added, as Markos’s face darkened. “I know that’s the worst crime. But I don’t want to rule anything out. The title passes only within the family, doesn’t it?”
    “Yes, it does. But nobody within would have dared. For a centaur to kill another, it would demand an ambition most of us simply don’t have. We aren’t like humans, Kay.”
    “Not all humans are ambitious,” I said. “Can you really say all centaurs aren’t?”
    Markos narrowed his eyes. “Alliance law demands all close relations are questioned. That’s the other reason we were arguing. That idiot Tryfon–” He jerked his head in the direction of the centaur who might have been his twin–“is flat-out refusing to go through with it. Says it goes against our customs.”
    “Well, I can’t imagine any centaur would want to be subjected to questioning by the Alliance,” I said. “For one thing, I’d wager no one from offworld has ever got close enough to centaur royalty to know the first thing about what might motivate a murder. I sure don’t. Aside from the obvious.”
    “Yes, there is that,” said Markos. “Well, if we do manage to get to the stage of appointing a new monarch, it’s customary to have Alliance representatives present, especially with our treaty coming up for renewal next week.”
    “Blasted customs,” I muttered. “So, is there anything I need to look out for? People, centaurs or humans, who might see the Alliance as a threat?”
    “There are a few, but they’re unlikely to make trouble at the meeting.”
    “And could they have killed the king?”
    “I wouldn’t have thought so,” said Markos, tapping a hoof. “The title is purely ceremonial, and the advisors make most of the decisions in any case. If they wanted power, they’d have targeted our own council.”
    “So the king must have had an enemy.”
    “Perhaps. The cause of death hasn’t been determined, but it wasn’t magic. That’s why there’s so much conflict. Nothing to prove humans did it, but it’s the natural assumption to make.”
    “Not magic?” I said. “I see the problem.”
    Magic would point the finger right at the humans. Either a centaur had done it, or a human with the foresight to deflect attention from themselves. Either was equally likely.
    “The humans had no motive. There haven’t been any territorial disputes in over ten years, not since we joined the Alliance.”
    “Right. I’ll think of the alternatives, but it looks like the council’s ready,” I said, seeing the three figures approaching out of the corner of my eye. Mr Sanders, Mr Shean, and Mrs Grey were, at the moment, the only council members present on Earth. The rest spent most of their time offworld, engaged in various meetings and debates alongside council members from the other branches of Earth’s Alliance. I’d say they tolerated me more than that we got