by Dave Duncan
“Starborn,” Rigel said, “may I ask you a question?”
The mage’s amber eyes blazed like lasers. “No, you may not, Rigel Halfling.”
Court dress for an unsponsored halfling comprised a full-length gown and a separate cowl. Fortunately both were cut from moon-cloth, which was cool and almost weightless, but Rigel felt as if he were playing Saint Francis in a Halloween masquerade. He was certain, though, that the holy man wouldn’t have approved of the way his flesh glowed through the translucent material.
The mage opened a portal to the harbor basin, and Izar, Rigel, and Mira followed him through it. The dock itself was almost deserted, except for a gang of fishermen unloading a smelly catch. Gienah the swan was scratching herself under one raised wing. On the quay beside her stood Princess Talitha, whose beauty left Rigel breathless and made the giant bird look positively ugly. She was accompanied by the swanherd Albireo Halfling and a green-haired elf whose name shortly became apparent as Baham, Izar’s previous bodyguard.
Izar’s feet began to drag until Fomalhaut put a hand on his shoulder and urged him forward. Bows and greetings were exchanged while Rigel and Mira waited, ignored, in the background. Izar had said that he “hated” Baham. Allowance for juvenile exaggeration might translate “hate” into “dislike,” but Rigel was prepared to agree that the former bodyguard did not impress at first sight. Still, the starborn could not be blamed for having hair and eyes of a peculiarly bilious shade, and his fixed sneer owed something to a very short upper lip. Besides, Talitha must have found some virtue in him or she would not have entrusted her son to his care.
“Izar,” she announced, “Baham and Albireo will take you home to Spica while Rigel and I attend the court.”
Izar clenched his fists and bent his ears to an uncooperative angle, but Fomalhaut spoke first.
“Last night His Highness instructed me to bring the imp to the royal barge so that—”
Talitha raised her chin and gave him a megawatt royal glare. “And this morning he instructed me to send Izar straight home. Do you question my word, Fomalhaut Starborn?”
Rigel did. Izar had inherited his poetic approach to truth from his mother. It seemed very unlikely that Regent-heir Kornephoros would have reversed his own orders so drastically without at least informing Fomalhaut of the change.
Pinned between two royals, the mage chose the safer course of recognizing a mother’s authority over her own child. “Never for a moment, Your Highness.”
“Mom!” Izar squealed. “My warning bracelet just started itching like crazy, Mom!”
“Yes, darling. Rigel and I will be home by lunchtime, I expect. You go home and have a nice ride on Narwhale. He will be missing you.”
Izar looked up at Baham’s sneer of welcome and shouted, “No! It really is itching, Mom, it’s itching like it never has! It’s warning me not to go!”
Alas, the shepherd boy must have exceeded his wolf guidelines too often in the past. Talitha very firmly said, “Do as you are told! You go with Baham right now, or no Narwhale for a week.”
Fomalhaut drew breath as if to intervene and then released it in silence. Rigel too felt twinges of unease. Granted, the imp was eager to come to the court hearing, but would he lie about a warning bracelet? Izar slouched angrily down the plank to the swan with Albireo and his bodyguard at his heels. Had Baham been informed that he was about to lose his job to Rigel? Would Izar be stupid enough to tell him?
Talitha turned to Fomalhaut. “Starborn, I have a favor to ask.”
“Your Highness’s lightest whims are inviolable directives to me.”
“That’s good. I want Halfling Rigel and his amulet to be guardians of my son.”
“He would be a good choice.”
“Then you will promise to transfer his bond to me right away, as soon as the court grants it to you this morning?”
The mage shook his golden head sadly. “Alas, I have already promised not to sponsor the halfling.”
“Promised whom?”
Fomalhaut glanced uncertainly at Rigel and Mira, and then said quietly, “You can guess.”
Talitha’s eyes flashed polychrome fire. “You are afraid of Prince Vildiar!”
“No, Highness. His Naos magic is far superior to mine, but he will never use his talent against me.”
“If you’re so sure of that, then what do you fear?”
The mage shrugged. “You want me to list them? Hadar, Muscida, Botein, Mintaka, Adhil… and so on. I have lost count, now that so many of the younger ones are growing claws too. They have sent many friends of mine into the dark between the stars, and I have no wish to follow them yet.”
Talitha was obviously shaken to hear her own fears so explicitly laid out for her. “They want Saiph!”
“Of course they do. Saiph is a threat to them as long as Rigel Halfling has it, and would be an incredible advantage to them if he didn’t. Based on historical records, any attempt to take it by force will cost four or five lives, and may not succeed even then. But that is not my concern, and I have given my word. Shall we join the others, Your Highness?”
Talitha and Fomalhaut set off along the dock to where Prince Vildiar and a couple of his storm trooper thugs were waiting. Rigel and Mira followed.
“This way to the fancy dress ball, Brother Rigel,” she said.
“You look like the missionaries got to you.”
Just beyond the Vildiar group, the regent-heir was floating down from the roof with two companions.
“I don’t like the look of this,” Mira murmured. “I’m starting to wish that I’d let the damned bear eat you.”
“So am I,” Rigel said.
Out in the basin, Gienah the swan was gathering speed, wings and feet racing as she rose from the water, carrying Izar home to Spica.
The prince’s halflings, Tarf and Tegmine, were new to Rigel. Both were slightly shorter than he and might be able to pass for human if they remembered to keep their mouths closed to hide the shark-like teeth they were currently leering at him. Tegmine was swarthy and had true elfin ears, which looked ludicrous sticking up beside his SS cap. Tarf had eyes and hair of middling brown. His ears were human, and his fleshy mouth resembled Hadar’s.
Talitha pouted up at the inscrutable stare of Prince Vildiar. “Your progeny already do outnumber the stars, starborn. I won’t wish you more.”
The prince ignored her and addressed Fomalhaut. “The regent instructed you to bring my son to Canopus.”
“I have been advised that he has countermanded those orders, Highness.”
Kornephoros had arrived, scarlet with fury and hotly pursued by his two minions who had attended him the previous night, Rasalhague and Mekbuda. “That is news to me. By what right do you ignore my orders?”
Talitha’s prismatic eyes flashed red and blue. “By the right of motherhood! I will not let this perverted steeple steal my son and turn him into another monster like himself.”
“You will do as I say! I am not just your father, due your respect and obedience, I am also regent with jurisdiction over all Naos in the realm.”
“Oh?” Talitha said sweetly. “Are you certifying that Izar Starling is a Naos already?”
“No, I am not!”
“Then he is merely my son and none of your business. I sent him home.”
“You think you can defy the law?” Kornephoros was turning purple.
“Possibly.” Her smile would melt bricks. She laid a hand on Rigel’s sleeve. “You won’t let them take Izar from me, will you darling?”
Rigel distinctly heard the sky fall on him. “Anyone who tries to take Izar away from you, my lady, will certainly find that he has his hands full.” He appealed to the mage. “Won’t he, my lord?” He wondered if Fomalhaut had foreseen this showdown when he’d chosen to give Izar the Turais amulet.
Regent-heir Kornephoros gave the mage no chance to answer. “Hussy! Stop pawing that halfling and board the barge!”
“Follow!” Releasing Rigel, Talitha m
arched off along the quay. Rigel hurried after her, ignoring the storm troopers’ smirks.
She was seething. “I apologize. I didn’t mean that. I just couldn’t think of any better way to annoy him.”
“I can. Why don’t you stop and kiss me?”
She shot him a startled look, and for a moment he hoped she would but then she smiled, never breaking step. “Maybe, I’ll give you a kiss to celebrate when you get status. But don’t confuse Princess Talitha with Starborn Alniyat.”
“I haven’t,” Rigel said bravely. “But I know which one I prefer.”
She sighed. “So do I, but right now you need Talitha.”
Chapter 18
The only other vessel in the basin was a flat-decked boat about twenty meters long and five or so wide, lavishly decorated with gold and crimson enamel. It had no masts or superstructure, and the only break in an otherwise featureless deck was a brass railing around a hatchway. The stern bore a flagstaff and flag, probably the regent-heir’s personal standard, but the cloth hung limp and unreadable. The bow was adorned with a figurehead of a golden-haired mermaid, about double life size if one assumed that mermaids’ human halves would match standard human build. She was obviously another elfin imagining inspired by terrestrial mythology, for even in proportion to her size, her eyes were huge and blue, her lips red and voluptuous, and her breasts loomed enormous compared to any Rigel had yet seen in the Starlands. Her scaly half shone with the silvery iridescence that the elves favored so much.
As he drew closer, he amused himself by speculating how such breasts, if real, would maintain their shape out of the water in miraculous defiance of gravity. He received a considerable shock when one baby-blue eye winked at him.
Talitha stopped. “Saidak, it has been too long!”
“Indeed it has, my lady,” the mermaid agreed with a coquettish smile. “How’s that stupid bird treating you? I hear you had a nasty run-in with some dragonflies yesterday.”
“Gienah works well for my modest needs, but I certainly wished you were with us yesterday. Your regilding looks absolutely gorgeous. I am so happy for you.”
The mermaid preened. She sat on a sort of throne, Rigel saw, and was not actually attached to the barge. “Your Highness is most kind. If that is Izar you have with you, he is surely growing fast.”
Talitha laughed and flipped Rigel’s hood back. “No, just a halfling I am attempting to acquire.”
“Oh, very nice,” Saidak purred. “A girl needs to keep all her options open, I always say.”
Mira, who had followed them on board, chuckled. Rigel hastily pulled his cowl back in place to hide his blushes.
“He is to be Izar’s guardian.”
“Oh?” Saidak said, even more coyly. “I’ve been hearing your name linked with Starborn Elgomaisa.”
Talitha made warning noises in her throat. “Just a passing fancy, and not even that since he made a pass I didn’t fancy. It will be a pleasure to journey with you again today, Saidak. Give my regards to Sertan and the children.”
“He will be honored to hear that you remember him, my lady. Have fun with your halfling.”
As they moved on toward the gangplank, Rigel heard the regent-heir address the mermaid in what was for him an unusually pleasant tone. It wasn’t pleasant enough.
“Canopus?” she shouted. “Always Canopus! Canopus, Dziban. Dziban, Canopus. Why can’t we ever go somewhere interesting?”
“We can,” Kornephoros said quickly, “we can! We had food sent aboard, remember? We have things to discuss, and I want some beautiful scenery to go with our meal.”
The mermaid clapped her hands with impacts like gunshots. “Oo, that will be nice! I’ll choose ever such beautiful domains to show you.”
Talitha strode up the plank and across the deck to lean on the rail and scowl out at the tiny harbor. Rigel went close. Mira tactfully left them some space. The rail—indeed the whole barge—was superbly crafted, every spare surface adorned with elaborate carvings of flowers and birds. The wood itself seemed to glow with life.
The other passengers boarded went below. Silence fell. Rigel waited for Talitha to speak.
Elgomaisa Starborn? Starborn Elgomaisa? Of course she must have starborn friends, male ones. She was at least twice as old as Rigel and was a mother, no virgin. From what he had heard and seen at Alrisha, the only real taboo for starfolk was sex with humans or halflings, and even that seemed to be little more than a forbidden subject for conversation. Amongst themselves, the starfolk were brazenly promiscuous… and yet who was he to judge them? They seemed to have no diseases or poverty. Other than a few vague appeals to “the stars,” Rigel had heard no mention of any divine overseer threatening sinners with hellfire. None of those hazards had ever done much to keep earthlings chaste, anyway.
Jealousy would be absolutely ridiculous.
But damn Elgomaisa, whoever he was!
After the silence between them had stretched on for several long moments, Talitha said, “I have been looking for a man,” seeming to address the harbor at large. “As soon as I was free to leave Phegda, I set up my own domain at Spica so that I could be alone with Izar. He’s growing up now, and he needs a surrogate father. But I cannot find a man we both like. Not that I can complain about that… For his age, he’s an amazingly good judge of people.”
That last remark failed to explain why she had just sent the kid off with a guardian he detested. Was she regretting that decision already?
“Going to Alrisha was madness. Neither of us liked a single one of the starfolk we met there, male or female.”
But the Halfling…!
“Starborn Muphrid and his friends did not impress me either, my lady. But today? Mage Fomalhaut will refuse to sponsor me. When Vildiar offers, what do I do?”
“If you accept him, halfling,” she said through her teeth, “he will take you straight home to Phegda and you will never see daylight again. No doubt Hadar will regretfully report that you choked on a fish bone. I must have a serious talk with Father.”
“If you and Vildiar both offer to sponsor me?”
“Vildiar wins without question, because he is my senior by centuries. I simply must persuade Father to sponsor you himself. It’s the only way out.”
But the regent was terrified of Vildiar.
The gangplank folded itself up and became part of the side of the ship, and then the royal barge turned away from the quay.
“Canopus!” Saidak boomed, spreading her arms wide. She was louder than a military band. “Canopus!” The barge accelerated, and the flag stirred limply in the breeze.
“She does know which end is the front, doesn’t she?” Rigel murmured.
“She should by now. She’s been the royal barge for a thousand years.”
“Barge or bargee?”
“Both, I suppose. I don’t know if it was named after her, or she was named after it. She finds life a little dull at times, and enjoys adding a touch of drama.”
The bow was lifting, the barge moving like a speedboat toward the end of the basin. The great voice boomed again. “Canopus! His Highness, Regent-heir Kornephoros, departs for Canopus!” There were splendid lungs inside that memorable chest.
The quay and the buildings at the end of the pool grew misty and disappeared. Then the barge was outside, in sunshine, floating between the peaks of Dziban, about a thousand meters above the marshes, with the Crystal Castle dwindling rapidly astern. Both the royal standard and the mermaid’s hair streamed in the rising wind.
“Should be safe to go below by now,” Talitha said, leading the way.
“Safe? Meaning?”
“I mean they’ll have started eating, so they won’t come and sit near us.”
From the quay, Rigel had observed no portholes, but the lower deck proved to be a single great saloon walled by slanted windows like a gondola below a dirigible. Everything was red and gold: golden chandeliers hung above tables draped in red cloths and set with gold cutlery. The dining chairs were gi
lded, the cushions scarlet. Even the benches under the windows were upholstered with red velour. Two imp pages were serving food from gold trolleys, and it smelled delicious, nothing like the strange fare in Muphrid’s domain. This was a lifestyle an earthling hobo had never dared dream of.
The rest of the passengers had chosen their seats at the tables, in their original groupings, except that Fomalhaut had joined the regent-heir and his two aides in the bow. Prince Vildiar sat amidships with his SS escort. Talitha led Rigel to the stern and gestured for Mira to join them.
When the young stewards arrived with their trolleys, Talitha took charge of Rigel’s food selection. “He’ll like this, I think. Give him plenty of that. He should try the squirrel paws too. And some of those.”
The pages finished serving and went up on deck to allow the passengers privacy, but for a while everyone ate in silence.
Saidak provided a much smoother ride than the swan. She had coasted over the sugarloaf peaks of Dziban with surprising rapidity, climbing as no terrestrial boat could. A gentle dive through a link cloud brought her down to a rolling, wooded landscape. The next put her above a roiling, stormy sea, heading toward an active volcano spurting fire.
“I still do not understand this!” Rigel said. “How does Saidak know where she’s going?”
“I told you,” Talitha said impatiently. “You don’t ask where, you ask who—whose domain? Saidak knows her way around so well that she can go almost anywhere in no more than six jumps. Oh stars, there went my appetite.”
Tarf had left the Vildiar group and gone over to the regent-heir, apparently in response to a summons, and Kornephoros was pointing at his daughter. The halfling nodded and came marching along the saloon in his jackboots. He shattered the illusion of his humanity by baring his starfolk teeth in a T-rex smile. “Your daddy wants to speak to you, sweetie pie.”
Talitha sighed and rose to go. “I wish he’d found a better messenger.”
“Impossible.” Tarf played carnivore again.