by Sharon Lee
“In fact,” said the Uncle, there was an edge to his voice now and tension in his shoulders. “My sister. Surely you have cared for her, as I have cared for your elders.”
Wait, Miri thought. Elders plural? The Uncle apparently knew something very few people did know, which was…worrisome. Aelliana’s living presence inside his head wasn’t something that Daav talked about with casual strangers or, she suspected, with chancy allies, either. If he’d confided in the Uncle…
“I regret,” Val Con was saying to that very Uncle. “Ought Korval to know your sister?”
“One would expect so. Her last message to me was that she was ‘in the Dragon’s lair.’ She bade me come to her there, at once.”
“Ah.” Val Con bowed regret, tinged with sorrow. “If that was her plan, sir, it went awry. She did not reach us.”
“You misunderstand,” said the Uncle. “Her message was not that she intended to go to the Dragon, but that she was arrived. My sister is precise in her communications. One might say, painfully precise.”
“I am certain,” Val Con murmured. “And yet, sir, I can but repeat: She has not come to us.”
Which was, Miri thought, the kind of argument that went nowhere really fast, and left a pile of broken bodies behind it.
“Meaning no disrespect to your sister or to her command of language,” she interrupted, “she is not here. Therefore, she must be somewhere else. Korval will certainly engage to search, to put word out ‘on the street’ as it is said here on Surebleak, and to use every resource in order to recover your sister or discover news of her. Anything that you can provide to us which will assist the searchers will be most welcome.”
The Uncle drew a breath…
“In the meanwhile,” Miri said before he could field any actual words, “we will of course take up the burden of caring for our elders, with all gratitude to you for their safe return to the clan.”
“I will certainly welcome Korval’s assistance in a discreet search,” the Uncle replied, with a very slight bow. “In regard to your elders, I assure you that they do not strain my resources in the least.”
Well, that sounded nothing but ominous, Miri thought.
She could feel Val Con considering the matter and she didn’t much care for the cold that was coming off of him while he did. Dammit, she’d had him more or less unkinked and now he was right back to cold mad. She could see his point: the Uncle was out of line—in fact, he was in breach of his word, and yet, he was the one pushing the issue.
And that, she thought, was interesting. Given that the Uncle knew just as well as they did that a dust-up was to nobody’s benefit, he had to have some reason to believe that holding hostages would get him cooperation…but in what? Unless he didn’t believe them and did believe that they were keeping his sister out of his reach.
Can’t prove a negative, she thought. But maybe they could prove a truth.
“I suggest a compromise,” she began…
A brisk knock interrupted her, and she stayed interrupted when the door opened to admit two pilots—one tall and dark, the other shorter and pale-haired.
“Ah, and here he is, Daav, precisely as Pilot Dulsey had said he would be!” cried the fair-haired pilot with great cordiality, striding into the room, the taller pilot at her back.
The reaction from Val Con was like an electric shock.
“Father?” he said, not loud.
Miri looked again as the pilots approached. The tall one was—yes, that was Daav yos’Phelium, looking an easy fifty years younger than the last time they’d spoken. That would’ve been the time she—as Delm Korval—had sent him off on a mission that they both knew had better-than-even odds of killing him.
So, if the tall pilot was Daav, and keeping “elders” firmly in mind, it followed that the shorter pilot was Aelliana Caylon, Daav’s lifemate, Val Con’s mother, murdered long Standards ago.
“Did I not tell you how it would be, van’chela?” she continued blithely. “Our kind host and ally has of course come ahead to explain every particular, so that the delm should labor under no misunderstanding regarding our current estate.”
“Pilot Caylon…” began the Uncle.
“Mother…” began Val Con.
“Indeed,” said Daav, overriding them both, his deep voice unchanged. “It is exactly as you say, Pilot.”
Aelliana Caylon stopped at Miri’s side, hands tucked into her belt, head tilted slightly back so that she might observe the Uncle’s face. She appeared to be in high good humor.
“Forgive me for doubting your motives, sir,” Daav said to the Uncle. “You of all people must know how it becomes a habit to doubt everyone.”
“Habit or not,” Aelliana scolded lightly, “it is entirely unworthy of you in the case, Daav. Has the Uncle not been kindness itself to us, his guests?”
“Mother,” Val Con said again.
She turned her head.
“Val Con! You’re looking well, child.”
“You relieve me,” he said gravely. “To say truth, I feared you might find me somewhat threadbare.”
“Has the course been uncertain?” she asked sympathetically. “It often seems so, you know, directly before you come about.”
“I will hope, then, to come about quickly. In the meanwhile, I see that the Uncle has cared for you as one of his own.”
She bestowed a brilliant smile upon him.
“Exactly so.”
The Uncle sighed, very lightly, though Miri heard him.
“Is there some problem, sir?” she asked.
His glance was wry.
“I merely note afresh that Pilot Caylon has a unique understanding of the universe.”
“One that you dispute?”
“Who am I to dispute a Dragon? However, the joyous reunion of kin remains incomplete. My sister—”
There came a brisk knock and the door again opened.
Val Con’s aunt Kareen crossed the threshold purposefully, followed by a broad brown person and the pale woman Miri had met in Kareen’s house weeks ago. Tassi, that was her name.
And she was definitely not what Miri had expected.
Kareen paused at precisely the distance specified in the Liaden Code of Proper Conduct, and bowed honor-to-the-delm. Tassi and her ’hand went around her, one to either side, plotting a straight course to the Uncle, who was standing like he’d been quick-frozen.
“Yuri!” she snapped.
They were much of a height, Miri saw, and though the coloring was different, seeing them together didn’t leave room to doubt that they were kin. The face was the same shape, the jaw every bit as determined, and right this minute, the expression was exactly the same.
“What took you so long?” Tassi demanded, her ’hand taking position at her back.
“I came as soon as I received your message,” he snapped back. “And I arrived to find that you were not at the specified location.”
“I am in the Dragon’s lair!” She swept her arms out in a gesture that would’ve endangered the crockery if there’d been any nearby; her ’hand leaned slightly to the right, neatly avoiding a smack to the jaw.
“While that is surely so, now, you were elsewhere when I arrived. Additionally, no one in the Dragon’s lair knew of you, or your whereabouts. This created awkwardness. I had thought you more precise.”
His sister stared at him.
“All of Surebleak is the Dragon’s lair,” she said, as if explaining basic arithmetic to a little child.
There was a brief, volatile silence before the Uncle spoke again, stiffly.
“I see that I was underinformed. May I know where you were precisely?”
“She was,” said Lady Kareen, “a guest in my house.”
Miri felt the spike of Val Con’s irritation and moved in his direction.
“You didn’t feel it necessary to inform the delm of this circumstance?”
Kareen gave him one of her top five Haughty Stares.
“Forgive me. It had escaped my
attention that I am now required to inform the delm whenever I have a guest.”
Val Con took a breath. Miri reached his side and slipped her hand into his. He let the breath go in a long sigh.
“But—such a guest, Aunt,” he said, almost mildly.
“As to that, Tassi was brought to me by Silain, who asked that I shelter her sister until such time as kin could reach her.”
“And you inquired no further?”
Kareen raised her eyebrows.
“What else would I wish to know, save that a sister had asked of a sister for a sister?”
“Quite right,” Val Con said, his voice so dry that Miri felt parched.
“She has not,” Kareen continued, “been an entirely convenable guest, if one were to speak frankly. I, at least, was not aware that Tassi was attached to the Uncle—I presume that is the Uncle?”
“It is, yes. Did Grandmother Silain know who she was?”
“I would imagine so,” said Kareen, but not like she cared. “It is the business of a luthia to know such things, and to know when to keep the knowledge close.”
* * * * *
By mutual consent, Daav and Aelliana had moved away from the center of the room to take up a position near the shelves on the right wall, where they could observe without being observed.
We seem to have arrived in good time to avert the tragedy Pilot Dulsey had feared, Daav observed.
Yes, it plays far better as a comedy. The Uncle’s sister is not much like him.
Or too much like him.
Very true. How shall we present ourselves to the delm, now that we are arrived?
Having arrived as we did, I think our only choice is to tell the tale full out and wait upon their wisdom.
Perhaps we might ask for a night’s guesting first? Aelliana suggested, her eyes on the delm and Kareen. Val Con is in no good temper. Miri is keeping him in hand, but possibly a night’s rest might be beneficial to all.
Certainly, we can ask, Daav said. The worst they can do is kill us out of hand.
My thought exactly.
* * * * *
“Who,” the Uncle said to his sister, voice low, “is Silain?”
She frowned and sighed. However, she did, surprisingly, answer.
“My first plan had been to take shelter with your people. There is a kompani here, in this city. However, the grandmother felt that I should be better placed with Lady Kareen and Professor Waitley. I bowed to her wisdom.”
She paused and gave him a sharp look.
“Even I know that is what one does when a grandmother expresses her wisdom.”
“You went to the Bedel!” The softness of his voice did nothing to mask his outrage.
“No. Yuri, you are not listening. I had planned to go to the Bedel. I was on my way to the place where the kompani camps. Silain and two of her grandsons met me in the street before I had gone very far, and escorted me to Lady Kareen, as I have said. I have been there this while, waiting for you to arrive.”
“My breath is taken by the assumption that you would even think of contacting the Bedel…”
“Why should I not think of it? Did I not set them in motion?”
“I set them in motion,” he snapped.
She frowned and moved her hand irritably. “Yes, yes, but that is one and the same, of course.
“It was a good plan for all that it was hastily made,” she continued, before he could begin to formulate a reply to this. “You are forever telling me that I must be safe, are you not? I would have been twice safe—not only inside the field, but inside the care of the Bedel, which was also inside the field.”
“Field? What is this field. Surebleak has no—”
“The field of luck,” his sister interrupted him. “Korval is here and the Luck is with them.”
* * * * *
Oh, dear, said Aelliana.
Indeed. Shall we intervene?
I believe that we must. Please, Scholar, seize this teaching moment.
“Allow me to understand this,” the Uncle was saying, his voice excruciatingly even. “You deliberately sought out Korval’s Luck? We are not in the habit of running mad by our own standards,” he said, “but I begin to fear that I asked too much of you and have—”
“Yuri, Korval’s Luck is not a thing to fear!” his sister protested. “I know that you are wary, but truly, it can only benefit—”
“Your pardon,” Daav said, stepping closer to them, Aelliana at his side. “One could not help but overhear. I offer…information about Korval’s Luck which may be useful to your discussions.”
The Uncle’s sister turned. “Are you of Korval?”
The Uncle himself sighed and moved his hand.
“I present Daav yos’Phelium and Aelliana Caylon, who have been delm of Korval. Pilots, my sister, Seignur Veeoni.”
“Pilots.” Seignur Veeoni ducked her head in acknowledgment. “My research has allowed me to see a little way into the workings of serendipity in general, and Korval’s Luck in particular. I would be grateful to receive an expert’s information.”
Daav inclined his head.
“I am pleased to be of assistance. As you have deduced, Korval’s Luck is a force. However, it is an unpredictable force. We of the House do not court it, but neither do we ignore it. Instead, we are aware of it, as one might be aware of any self-directed condition that may intersect with one’s actions.
“It must also be noted that the Luck, as we call it, does not necessarily favor us. Clan history contains many instances where luck has played one of Korval ill. It has been suggested that we are at best attractors, and the means by which we attract the Luck’s, let us say, attention are not apparent to us.
“It has also been suggested,” he continued, catching the Uncle’s gaze and inclining his head, “that the Luck finds us interesting. If that is even remotely the case, then placing us into a novel situation—such as an extended session in an autodoc, in an attempt to insure that the Luck will not operate—can only draw it closer.”
The Uncle pressed his lips together and said nothing.
“As tricksy as the Luck is for those of Korval,” Daav continued, “it is more so for those who are not of the House. The Luck, so far as any of us have been able to ascertain, does not care about collateral damage.”
Seignur Veeoni nodded.
“I have observed that luck in general does not exert a constant field. However, I theorize that there are not one, but two forces at work: the Luck, which has been attracted to Surebleak, where the object of its interest—Clan Korval—has removed, and the planet’s own gravitational field.”
“You believe that the Luck is not merely attracted to Surebleak, but has been captured by it?” Aelliana asked. “That gravity both insures a consistent layer and quiescence?”
Seignur Veeoni turned her to her.
“Yes! Precisely so! It is worthy of more study. I will be pleased, if it would be of interest, to share my further findings with you.”
“Thank you,” Aelliana said. “It touches the edges of my own work. I will be very interested to learn of your progress.”
Seignur Veeoni nodded.
“In the meantime, I think that Pilot yos’Phelium wishes me to understand that, while I have been fortunate in my removal and recent rustication, the opposite might just have easily been the case.”
“That is entirely correct, Scholar.”
“I am not a scholar,” she told him baldly. “Researcher will do.”
He inclined his head, and she turned back to Aelliana.
“Scholar Caylon, have you finished your proof for pseudorandom tridimensional subspace?”
Aelliana raised her eyebrows.
“In fact, the final proofs are complete. I have not lately been in a position to publish, of course.”
“I am aware. Even now, publication will not be easy.” Seignur Veeoni looked over her shoulder.
“Yuri, you must establish a provenance for the scholar’s new persona. Her work is
critical, and it must not be left out of the universal conversation!”
“No, please, your brother has surely borne enough from us!” Aelliana said, raising a hand, palm out. “Korval is perfectly able to address such matters on my behalf, Researcher. I thank you for your care.”
Seignur Veeoni looked doubtful, but nodded once more.
“If there should be any difficulty, though, Scholar, you will remember Yuri?”
“I give you my most solemn word that I will never forget him,” Aelliana said.
Daav glanced at the Uncle, to see if that dart had found a mark but, of course, the target was inscrutable.
“I believe,” he said, apparently ignoring his sister and Aelliana alike, “all of the pieces are back upon their proper boards. We shall therefore take our leave of Korval. If you will accompany me, Sister?”
“Yes,” she said. “I have much to discuss with you, Yuri.”
“And I, you.”
He bowed.
“Pilots. Long life to you both.”
“Sir,” Daav said, bowing in return.
Aelliana bowed in her turn.
“Live long and prosper.”
The Uncle and his sister moved away.
Daav sighed, closed his eyes—and opened them again at the sound of an all-too-familiar voice.
“Now, I wonder, is this Daav yos’Phelium?”
He turned to confront his sister Kareen.
“Not only is it Daav yos’Phelium, but Aelliana Caylon, if you will have it,” he told her. “And a more comprehensive muddle I hope never again to encounter.”
She smiled slightly and bowed her head.
“Once past the surprise, you look well, Brother,” she said, astonishingly cordial. She turned to Aelliana. “Sister. Of course, I had not expected to see you again.”
“Kareen,” Aelliana murmured, making no demur at “sister,” though Kareen had not been prone to that mode of address, back in the day.
“I do not mean to keep you overlong, for I know you must have business with the delm,” Kareen continued. “I merely wish to inform you that Kamele Waitley has become part of my household. She is one of the company which is piecing together Surebleak’s history and mores, so that a new common code may be crafted which will guide both the native population and the Liaden immigrants.”