Mouse and Dragon

by Sharon

  Aelliana shivered. She could not move, except to go to him. She would die, if she did not touch him.

  “Turn around.” Lady yo’Lanna gripped her arm.

  “I cannot,” she whispered.

  “You will,” the older woman said, her voice conveying absolute conviction.

  Daav—Delm Guayar was speaking to him. She saw the longing in his face; felt the effort it cost him, to stand in one place, trembling, as she was trembling, soul on fire and heart a-stutter …

  She closed her eyes. The pain did not abate. I will not lose, she thought. I will not forfeit my life.

  Shaking, she turned away.

  *

  Shaking, he put himself into the alcove’s farthest corner, closed his eyes, and concentrated on being very still. Now that it was aroused, the compulsion did not fade as he had hoped it might. He knew where she was; blindfolded, he could walk to her side, through walls, if he must …

  “Here is tea,” Guayar said.

  He opened his eyes, and received the glass with both hands. The liquid sloshed and rippled unnervingly.

  Apparently, Guayar thought so, too, for he sent a sharp look into Daav’s face.

  “Attend me, please,” he said, as if he were speaking to a child yet in nursery. “You are to remain precisely there; you will not endanger your clan or your lady or yourself by word, action or deed while I am away. Do you swear it?”

  Daav took a hard breath. “How long will you be gone?”

  Guayar awarded him another sharp look.

  “I am going to fetch your brother.”

  Daav inclined his head. “On my honor, I will wait here until my brother comes.”

  “Excellent.”

  Alone, Daav closed his eyes, and felt for the steps that would bring him to that place of quiet peace. He could not concentrate; the imperative to go to her shattered his thought, flooding him with agony.

  Biting his lip, he reached for the Rainbow, but the colors slid away from his thought, leaving him bereft and ill.

  A light step alerted him. He opened his eyes.

  Er Thom was in sapphire and ivory. He stood in the entry to the alcove, the golden light from the main room limning his slim figure, throwing his face into shadow.

  “Kareen will be angry if you break that glass,” he commented. “It’s part of a set.”

  “I’ll buy her a new set,” Daav answered, horrified to hear how his voice quavered.

  “Best not to call attention,” his brother said, and came forward, walking easy and soft. “Brother, what pains you?”

  Daav took a breath, keeping his eyes on Er Thom’s.

  “I am compelled,” he said.

  “Ah.” His brother inclined his head. “I understand.”

  Of all the beings alive, Daav thought, his brother would understand. More the pity, that Er Thom’s brother had not understood when a similar compulsion had been visited upon him.

  “Brother, I owe you a profound apology.”

  “Nonsense,” Er Thom said briskly. He slipped the glass from Daav’s hand. “Let me fetch you something more fitting to drink.”

  “Not wine!” he said sharply.

  “Of course not. Come out of the corner, Daav, do.”

  Come out of the corner, he thought, blinking back tears; as if it were simple.

  … and yet, it was Er Thom who asked it; Er Thom, who knew precisely what it would cost.

  Daav straightened his shoulders and stepped away from the wall. His knees trembled, but he could stand. His hands were cold, and his lungs ached as if he had been running at the top of his speed for far too long.

  “Here you are,” Er Thom said, stepping to his side and handing him a wineglass filled with pale yellow liquid.

  Daav shook his head. “No wine,” he repeated. “Brother—”

  “Taste it,” Er Thom commanded.

  Goaded, he assayed a sip—a small sip—and sputtered a laugh.

  “Lemonade?”

  “It is perfectly adequate lemonade,” Er Thom said, sipping from his own glass. He wrinkled his nose slightly. “Who could have supposed that Kareen would have it too sweet?”

  Daav snorted, then sobered.

  “I promised that I would support her here,” he said, without any need to explain who that might be.

  “Of course you did, and so you shall,” Er Thom replied, offering his arm. “Come, Brother, let us tour the room.”

  *

  Lady Kareen had detached her from Ilthiria yo’Lanna, precisely as that lady had predicted.

  “You are so new among us, Scholar Caylon, that I am persuaded there are many here who are strangers to you. Come! Allow me to make you known to the room.”

  Aelliana looked to Lady yo’Lanna, which had not been part of what they had decided between them, but did not, Aelliana thought, do them a disservice. What Lady yo’Lanna felt was not to be known, as she simply waved a negligent hand and issued an airy, “Do allow Lady Kareen to introduce you to those to whom you are not known, Pilot. No one knows her guests so well as the host.”

  The first person the host guided her to was an unfamiliar man with a triangular face and severe grey eyebrows. Aelliana’s stomach, already unsettled, grew less so.

  “Ixin, allow me to make you known to Aelliana Caylon Clan Mizel, Scholar and Pilot. Scholar Caylon, here is Lus Tin ven’Deelin, who has the honor to be Ixin.”

  They exchanged bows, each accepting the other’s introduction, while Lady Kareen stood back, her face watchful beyond, Aelliana thought, what became even the most careful host.

  “Scholar Caylon, how glad I am to meet you!” Lus Tin ven’Deelin said. “My niece had only praise for you and for your course. But—” he looked suddenly conscious—“you have had so many students, perhaps you do not recall—”

  “Rema was one of my best students,” Aelliana murmured. “Of course I remember her, and—if a teacher may say it—with great fondness.”

  “That is kind of you, Scholar. I will be certain to tell her father of your notice. Also, allow me to add my own thanks for the gift of your genius, and for your care, Scholar.”

  “You are too kind,” Aelliana murmured.

  “Not at all,” he protested gallantly, and they parted, with bows, he to proceed down the room and she to accompany Lady Kareen.

  “How fortunate that you were acquainted with Ixin’s niece,” Kareen murmured.

  “Trebly fortunate,” Aelliana allowed.

  “Ah, now, here is—”

  “Is it Pilot Caylon?” a woman’s high, sweet voice interrupted Kareen. “How well you are looking, ma’am!”

  Aelliana turned and bowed. “Lady Sera, how good it is to meet you again.”

  “Had I the least idea you were to be here, I would have offered you my escort. I hope you were not constrained to come alone. Really, this matter inconveniences everyone—don’t you think so, Kareen?”

  “Certainly, it is an inconvenient situation,” that lady answered smoothly, “and not at all regular.”

  “Well! But it is Korval, ma’am, and—aside yourself, of course—irregularity would seem a mark of the House. Pilot Caylon, how are you situated? It would please me to offer you guesting. My house is quite near.”

  “Thank you,” Aelliana said, inclining her head. “Lady yo’Lanna kindly allows me to guest with her.”

  “Ah, does she? You’re well taken care of then.” She tipped her head. “I wonder, Pilot, your jewels. Moonel, I assume?”

  “Yes,” Aelliana said, who had not known the artist existed until that very afternoon, when Lady yo’Lanna had brought Daav’s gift to her. The Master had used every jewel in the Jump pilot’s cluster to make what seemed at first viewing to be a meaningless tangle. Once about her neck, however, it was revealed as a star route, with the Jump points marked out in grey pearl—three Jumps, in fact, to Avontai, and three more, to Staederport.

  Lady Sera sighed. “You are very fortunate, ma’am.”

  “So I believe as well,” Aellian
a murmured, which gained her a sharp look from the lady, and an insincere smile.

  “Why there is Etgora!” she said brightly. “I must have word with him before he vanishes into the crowd again. Kareen, you have achieved a crush!” A hasty bow and Lady Sera was away.

  “How came you to meet Sera tel’Kai?” Kareen asked as they moved across the crowded floor together.

  “We were guests together at Lady yo’Lanna’s morning picnic some weeks back,” Aelliana murmured. “She was kind enough then to give me her attention.”

  “I see.” Lady Kareen took her arm, as if she were afraid that Aelliana might escape. “I hope you will humor me, Scholar. There is one of my guests that I particularly wished you to meet. I fear that the tel’Kai is correct, however, we have achieved a crush and will scarce be able to find ourselves, much less—Ah! There we have her!”

  *

  One did not, Daav found, grow accustomed so much as one found ways to cope. He coped by allowing Er Thom to steer them from one pleasant acquaintance to another, and by concentrating on seeming precisely as usual. vin’Tael made some comment meant to call into question the melant’i of those who did not immediately acquiesce to the demands of High. He was, however, in his cups, and was easily quelled with a stare.

  That his brother’s route down the room was modeled on Aelliana’s progress, Daav knew by the burning of his nerves. He ignored it, as much as he might, and tried to be content with the occasional glimpse of her face, or her tawny hair, swept back into a deceptively simple knot, revealing her face entirely, and exposing her delicious ears.

  Eyla had done well with the dress, he thought. It was a simple thing, with clean lines and matter-of-fact elegance. Beside her, Kareen seemed subtly overdressed.

  Moonel’s necklace—well, what could be said? The man was a genius. Daav wished he had been able to give it himself, so that he could have seen whether it pleased her. That, alas …

  “Kareen is on the approach to mischief,” Er Thom murmured. “Shall I go?”

  Daav looked out over the room, beyond Aelliana’s present location, and drew his breath in sharply.

  “Yes, and at once,” he said, releasing Er Thom’s arm. “For if I go, I will surely murder her.”

  *

  “You must allow me,” Lady Kareen said, hurrying her toward a pair of ladies—one elder and stern-faced; the other young enough to perhaps be her daughter, with a face more resigned than stern, and her stance shouting pilot.

  “You must allow me to present Gath tel’Izak who has the honor to be Bindan, and Samiv tel’Izak. Delm and Pilot, allow me to introduce Aelliana Caylon Clan Mizel.”

  Face stiff, Bindan inclined her head, Aelliana scarcely heeded that. She stepped forward, slipping her arm free from Lady Kareen’s grasp and bowed profoundly.

  “Samiv tel’Izak!” she exclaimed. “I have been wanting to meet you, and to thank you! To have risked so much on my account—and never even knowing who I was! I am in your debt, Pilot. Deeply so.”

  “Indeed not!” the younger lady protested. “Pilot Caylon—it is apparent to the meanest intelligence precisely who you are. I am honored, and if I may say so without offense, delighted, to be able to speak with you. The last I had known, your case was desperate, and then I fear”—a sweep of lashes in the elder lady’s direction—“I became immersed in my own affairs.”

  “I understand entirely, Pilot,” Aelliana assured her. “We should make time to sit with each other. I am presently situated at Chonselta, but I am at your service, Pilot. Only—” A shadow moved at her shoulder—not Daav, an inner voice told her—and she turned her head.

  Not Daav, no, but welcome, nonetheless.

  “Er Thom!” She caught his hand and brought him forward. “Do you know Pilot tel’Izak?”

  “I have had the felicity,” he said, with an easy bow. “Pilot, I am pleased to see you looking so well.” He glanced to the other lady and accorded her a more rigorous salute. “Bindan.”

  “yos’Galan,” the delm said sourly.

  “Aelliana,” Er Thom said in his soft, sweet voice. “I had seen that you were unrefreshed. Might I might fetch you something? Pilot? Ma’am?”

  “Thank you, no,” Bindan said, with, so it seemed to Aelliana, scant courtesy. “Samiv, there is Midys, to whom we must speak. Forgive us, yos’Galan, Lady … Pilot; duty calls.”

  “Certainly,” Er Thom said, inclining his head. Aelliana looked to Samiv.

  “A message in my name to the offices of dea’Gauss will find me, Pilot. Please, do not forget.”

  Bindan moved sternly away, Pilot tel’Izak dutifully in her wake. When they had been swallowed by the crush of bodies, Er Thom turned again to Aelliana.

  “May I be of use to you?” he asked, and turned his head slightly. “Or to you, Kareen?”

  “There’s a rare offer,” Lady Kareen said, her voice light, as if it were a joke between close kin, but her eyes angry, indeed.

  “Worth all the more, then,” Er Thom answered. “What may I be honored to fetch you?”

  Lady Kareen drew a breath, and smoothed her hands down her skirt. “Nothing, I thank you, kinsman. Indeed, I have neglected the balance of my guests quite long enough! If you will forgive me, Scholar?”

  Aelliana inclined her head. “Of course, ma’am,” she said, carefully. “I thank you for your care.”

  “You are quite welcome, Scholar,” the lady replied, her voice also careful. “Kinsman.”

  Er Thom bowed. “Kareen.”

  “Please, you must tell me how Daav goes on,” Aelliana said rapidly, the instant the lady was away. “I—we saw each other, and it was as if I had taken a bolt. I could scarcely think anything, except that I must go to him at once. He was similarly struck, I saw—Delm Guayar took him in hand. But—”

  “He suffers,” Er Thom murmured, taking her arm and moving her carefully through the crowd—away from Daav! she thought, with a wrench—“he suffers as you do, and will continue to do unless and until this is solved.” He flashed her a look. “I speak, as you know, from experience. It may perhaps seem unnecessarily harsh, but it is my opinion that Mizel ought to be flogged. If, as we suppose, she knows that you and Daav are linked … “

  “She cares very little for that—indeed, how could she know what it meant, when we ourselves discover it as we go along?” Aelliana shook her head. “I have such a report of her state of mind from my sister that must concern anyone. I had hoped that the solution I proposed would move her, but it has been a week now, and no word.”

  Er Thom was silent for a few slow steps.

  “Daav had promised to support you here,” he said suddenly.

  “Yes, and so he has done, by sending you to me,” she told him warmly. “I am very happy to see you, Er Thom, but I think—I think it would be best to take me back to Lady yo’Lanna so that you may return to Daav.” She smiled, half-amused. “We shall each have our rock, and our comfort.”

  He returned her smile, violet eyes flashing. “Aelliana, I may have been remiss—have I said that I like you extremely and am grateful to find you in care of my brother’s heart?”

  Her eyes filled, and she pressed her fingers gently against his arm.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “No—thank you.” He put his hand briefly over hers, the Master Trader’s ring flashing purple lightnings. “Come, let us return you to her ladyship, so that we may all be civilized for one hour more.”

  *

  “Anne, we are well-met,” Daav said. He slipped his arm through hers. “For the love of the gods, whatever you do, do not let me go.”

  She smiled and patted his hand. “Where’s Er Thom got to?” she wondered in Terran.

  “Gone to rescue my darling from my sister’s spite,” he answered, gladly embracing her choice of language. “Since I am disallowed from performing the service myself.”

  “Scholar yo’Vestra is making his way very deliberately in this direction,” Anne commented. “Should I move us?”
<
br />   “Not in the least,” Daav returned. “It will do me good to have a worthy target.”

  Anne laughed, and then the scholar was upon them.

  “Lady yos’Galan, I offer myself in place of your present escort, who is wanted on business of the utmost urgency to Korval.”

  Daav considered him.

  “Do you bear a more explicit message, Scholar?”

  yo’Vestra bowed. “The dea’Gauss awaits you in Lady Kareen’s office, sir.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Korval is contract-bound to stand as Captain to all the passengers until released by the Council of Clans, the successor to the Transition Committee. I should’ve written that contract looser, but who knew we’d even survive?

  —Excerpted from Cantra yos’Phelium’s Log Book

  The window was open, admitting the sounds of the nighttime garden. Inside, the room was cozily bathed in butter-yellow light. Daav was stretched on his side on the sofa, reading his letters. Aelliana, on the chaise, with Lady Dignity’s chin on her ankle, looked up from her screen, and considered him.

  “Did you say something?”

  He raised his head, black eyes dancing.

  “I did not, though I might have done.” He rattled the paper in his hand. “Here’s an invitation for Kiladi to teach a guest seminar on cultural genetics. Impossible, of course, but one cannot help to be proud of his accomplishments and the notice he receives from his peers.”

  “Why is it ‘impossible, of course’?” Aelliana asked. “Scholar Kiladi has much to offer. Some of his students at least found him to be of use.”

  “One of his students,” Daav amended, shaking his hair back from his face.

  Aelliana smiled. He had thought to cut his hair when they became lifemates, which was the custom of the tribe of the grandmother whom he honored. He had allowed, however, that the decision ultimately rested with his wife and that the grandmother would never gainsay the mother of another tent.

  “You may drag a crimson fish across my path, but I will not be diverted,” she told him, pleased to recall Anne’s phrase. “Even to alter the thought of a single student is sometimes enough reward for all a teacher’s efforts. It is the duty of scholarship to share, and to illuminate. Scholar Kiladi publishes—and so he ought!—but that is no substitute for teaching.”