"Varz is already wiping us out." Ixpar clenched her fist on the table. "It is unjust. Sevtar has reached the highest Level a Calani can attain, become a legend, had songs written about him, yet he is denied his happiness."
"His wife died. Of course he's unhappy."
"It's more than that."
"How can you know that?"
"It's in the Quis."
"You're the only one who sees it."
"It's there."
Kastora leaned forward. "You know what you need?"
"What?"
"An Akasi. Someone to keep your mind off Avtac's husbands." Kastora thought of the tavern singer. His voice stirred her heart and his slender physique stirred the rest of her. "A warm fellow to curl up with at night. It settles a woman."
Ixpar laughed. "You should see your face. Gone courting, heh?"
"Of course not." In truth, she hadn't yet summoned the courage to make her interest known to the singer "A Minister, however, should have an Akasi."
Ixpar shrugged. "There is no Calani I wish to wed."
The ancient dilemma, Kastora thought. Law required Managers to declare vows only with a Calani, the higher the Level the better, particularly for the Minister. Most Ministers chose a Second or Third from another Estate, often arranging the marriage after seeing the man only once or twice.
"Jahlt probably felt the same way," Kastora said. "But look how well her arrangement with Mentar worked out."
"I'm not ready to take an Akasi. I'm only twenty-seven, for wind's sake."
Kastora downed her ale. "Well, someday."
"Someday," Ixpar said.
* * *
Standing in the snow-covered park under an icefir, Kelric watched Garith. The Second Level was about twenty meters away, sitting on a high-backed bench with his eyes closed and his face tipped back to savor the winter sun. A tall man, though not as tall as Avtac, he had classic features, with the blue eyes and yellow hair so rare and so prized among the northern Estates. Although Kelric knew he looked much younger than Garith, the two of them were actually the same age, in their late forties.
Kelric walked over to him. "May I join you?"
Garith opened his eyes. "No."
Although Kelric inwardly winced, he plowed ahead anyway. "Garith, we need to talk. This is affecting our Quis."
"Talk about what?" Garith stood up. "I never say a word about her boys in the city. What good would it do? When she brought that First Level here I kept my mouth shut. She got bored and traded him to Shazorla. Now you're here and you won't be leaving. So what do you expect me to say? That after all these years, I like being pushed aside like an old dice pouch?" He shook his head. "I have no wish to talk to you." Then he turned and walked away.
Gods, Kelric thought. So much for his diplomacy.
He went back to his suite and stood at a floor-to-ceiling window in his bedroom watching clouds nudge the glass. The thick pane was set into a cliff that plunged down until it disappeared in the mountains far below. If he could just step out . . .
Stop it. Kelric told himself. What would Roca do without her father? Her next visit wasn't until tomorrow and her absence left him empty and lonely.
Kelric settled into his favorite armchair and dozed, waking at intervals to look at the tall clock across the room with its swinging pendulum. The afternoon passed with numbing dullness.
Toward evening he heard someone push aside the screen of his suite Then Hayl appeared In the door arch of the bedroom.
"Yes?" Kelric asked.
"I was worried when you missed dinner."
Kelric stayed slouched in his chair. "I wasn't hungry." As silence stretched between them, Hayl looked around as if searching for a way to cheer Kelric up. When he saw Kelric's boots by the window, he smiled. "I figured out how to open the cliff windows. Some of them have pattern locks worked into the carvings on their frames."
Kelric sat up straighter. "Hayl, it's not safe." Somehow the boy had picked up his interest in the windows. On some sides of the Estate, the outer walls were cut straight from a cliff and decorated with bas-relief. A person could conceivably climb out to a ledge and creep along the wall to the city using projections for handholds. Of course they could also fall, a drop of over a kilometer.
However, in the region of the Calanya, no decorations graced the sheer wall of stone that dropped into the clouds. Kelric had no doubt the reason was historical, dating from the Old Age when Calani were often held against their will. The architecture still served its purpose, trapping him here.
"I don't want you to open the windows" he said.
"Not even the ones in my suite?" Hayl asked "They just open onto the parks."
"You figured those out too?"
"They were easy."
Hayl's knack with the locks amazed him. The mechanisms were designed from tiny bars and knobs that had to be pushed, pulled. and turned in patterns that seemed random to Kelric. Some quirk of Hayl's brain allowed him to solve the puzzle every time.
"Just be careful," Kelric said. The drop from Hayl's windows to the parks was only a few meters, but it could still cause injury. "Don't hang out of them."
"I won't," Hayl promised.
After the boy left, Kelric stared at the ceiling. It had been days since he talked to Avtac about Hayl's kasi ceremony, a resounding failure of an attempt. He had to give it at least one more try.
He went to find the Taks.
Avtac waited until the Taks withdrew from the den in her private suite. Then she said, "I hope this is important, Sevtar. I have a lot of work to do."
Kelric detested sparring with her, but he had made a promise to Hayl and he meant to keep it. He stood facing her across the expanse of the desk, where she sat in her big chair.
"It's Hayl," he said.
"This better not be about his kasi ceremony again. That matter is none of your affair."
He leaned forward, his hands braced on the desk. "Can't you see how he feels about it? You'll ruin his life."
Avtac took off her reading glasses. "I am tired of this vendetta you have against Captain Zecha. It is jealousy, yes? Right now you are the most important person to that boy. You don't want to lose him to Zecha."
"This has nothing to do with Zecha and me. Hayl doesn't love her. He doesn't even like her. And he's a child, for wind's sake. He's too young to be anyone's kasi."
Annoyance edged her voice. "Maybe if there weren't so many 'modern' men today, women wouldn't have to seek half-grown youths to find an unsullied mate." She considered him. "But then, I'm not telling you anything new."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
She put her glasses back on. "You should know. You've been with half the Managers on Coba."
He scowled. "So find yourself a 'cleaner' Akasi and leave me alone."
"You should be grateful I was willing to overlook your past." She got up and walked around the desk to him. "This isn't Miesa. Savina may have let you meddle in Estate business but I will tolerate no such interference."
Kelric felt as if she had kicked him in the stomach. "Let Savina be."
Avtac spoke in a gentler voice. "I don't mean to hurt you." She laid her hand on his arm. "I realize you cannot help your nature."
It was too much. Kelric snapped up his arm to throw off her hand. With no warning or reason, his enhanced strength kicked in and he literally flung her into a bookshelf. As the shelves toppled, she jumped away and smacked her palm against a com on the wall.
Gods no, Kelric thought. He stepped toward her. "Avtac, I didn't mean—"
She grabbed a beam from the fallen shelf. "Stay back."
Combat mode on, Bolt thought.
What the hell? Mode off! he thought.
He heard running feet and spun around to see his valets and Calanya escort. As Netak drew his stunner, Kelric struck the gun out of his hand, his speed enhanced by the malfunctioning Bolt, which for some bizarre reason had interpreted a domestic quarrel as a combat situation. Could he actually be that traumatiz
ed by his situation at Varz? The combination of his neurological damage with stress must have pushed his already erratic biomech systems even further out of kilter.
The escort tried to stun him, but despite the damage to his systems, his hydraulics kept him moving and his biomech web synthesized an antidote. Finally the Taks managed to pin him against the wall. While he struggled, Qahotra appeared with a straitjacket. They wrapped it around his torso and fastened him into it with his arms pulled across his chest.
"Take him into the bedroom," Avtac said. "But be careful. I don't want him hurt."
Combat mode off, Bolt thought.
No! Kelric thought Reactive! Now. when he needed Bolt's help. it had deserted him.
The Taks half carried, half dragged him into the bedroom. As they held him down on the bed, a nurse tried to force a pill down his throat. When he spat it out, Doctor Shyl bent over him with a syringe.
Avtac grabbed the doctor's arm. "What is that?"
Shyl showed her the syringe. "It injects the medicine into his blood. It's much faster than a potion."
"I won't have you experimenting on him."
"It's safe," Shyl assured her.
Kelric stared at the syringe. then redoubled his efforts to escape. With the Taks holding him down, Shyl administered the shot. Within moments,his muscles went lax and voices became muffled, as if he were underwater.
Avtac leaned over him. "He's calmer now."
Shyl's face appeared. "What set him off?"
"He's always been high-strung," Avtac said. The rest of her answer faded into blackness.
When Kelric awoke, groggy and disoriented, twilight filled the room. A blur sat on the bed and spoke with Avtac's voice. "Can I get you anything?"
He wet his lips. "Water."
Lifting his head, she tilted a glass to his mouth. "It will all be fine," she murmured "The medicine will help you."
"Not sick," he mumbled. Then he passed out again.
The next time he awoke, sunlight was streaming through the windows. Someone had removed the straitjacket and bathed him. Turning his head, he saw an orderly sitting in a chair by the bed.
She looked up from her book and smiled. "Feeling better? I'll call Manager Varz."
Before Kelric could protest, the orderly was on the com to Avtac. The Manager appeared a few minutes later and dismissed the orderly, then sat on the bed and smiled at Kelric. "I'm glad you are feeling better."
Better from what? Her emotional abuse? Regardless of how he felt about Avtac though he hadn't meant to attack her. "Are you all right?"
She nodded. "We will speak no more about it."
Why the hell not? he thought. But he said nothing. Silence was his only defense against words that cut deeper than steel. Anger edged his thoughts, mixing with the Quis patterns in his mind. He tried to suppress it, lest it turn into a rage that could sear his dice, and through them Varz, Miesa, and the Twelve Estates.
It was only a glimpse, a flash of yellow hair .on the icy windbreak. Kelric almost called Savina's name—but the distant figure was only one of his guards. He walked on through the snow-deep park, uncaring where he went.
". . all right?" a voice said. "Sevtar, what is the matter?"
Kelric stopped. Orttal stood in front of him, silhouetted against an overcast sky. The Third Level started to speak, then stopped, looking past him. Turning, Kelric saw the juggler Mox running to where Qahotra stood in the next park. He skidded to a stop in front of the Calanya captain and waved his hands as he talked to her. She listened, then took off running back the way he had come.
Kelric and Orttal walked over to the juggler. "What's going on?" Orttal asked.
"It's Hayl," Mox said, breathing hard from his run. "I didn't even know he was playing with it—then he leaned out—to see a bird or something—I don't know what."
Not again, Kelric thought. Hayl's game with the windows in his suite had continued unabated. Even if Hayl had fallen, though, he couldn't be too badly hurt. Had the boy been in pain, Kelric knew he would have felt it.
"I told him to get back inside," Mox said. "I told him."
"Mox, slow down," Orttal said. "What happened?"
"He fell. Fell."
"Is he all right?" Kelric asked.
"In my suite—he figured it out—I don't know how. I didn't even know those cliff windows opened."
Kelric's sense of calm shattered. "The what windows?"
"The cliff." Mox's voice cracked. "He fell over the cliff."
No. It couldn't be true. If Hayl had died he would know. Kelric took off for the Calanya, his mind creating nightmare images of Hayl plummeting down the cliff, as if he saw his own son hurtling to his death.
When he reached Mox's suite, he pushed past the crowd in the door arch. Avtac was already inside the bedroom, and Zecha had gone to the floor-to-ceiling Window that stood open like a door of glass. Chill wind whispered past it as a cloud seeped inside, curling tendrils of mist around her.
Kelric walked to the window, past even Zecha. He stood in the opening and looked at the cliff plunging down from his feet. Hayl, he thought. Come back. His mind conjured up unwanted scenes: Hayl skidding on the cliff, Hayl tearing through trees, Hayl caught in a cage of roots.
Zecha spoke in a low voice. "He told me yesterday he was going to impress you." Incredibly, tears showed on her face. "And now he's dead." She took his arm to draw him back into the room, but in the same moment that he pulled away from her, she let her hand drop, her face numb, as if she didn't care whether he fell or not. As a result, he gave his pull more momentum than he needed, lost his balance—and stumbled out the window.
"No!" Avtac shouted. "Stop him!"
The sky careened past Kelric as he toppled into the abyss of air. His biomech toggled on and he grabbed the sill as he dropped past it, yanking to an arm-wrenching halt. With hydraulic-driven strength, he vaulted back into the room.
Dimly he was aware of people shouting and pulling him away from the window. The shock of Hayl's death together with his biomech—enhanced drive of adrenaline was too much. He lashed out with his fists, catching a guard, then another, then Zecha. His escort kept firing their stunners, until he sank to his knees on the floor.
As his adrenaline calmed, Bolt took him out of combat mode. Kelric looked up to see aides and Calani staring at him in disbelief. He stared back, too stunned by his own reaction to move.
Night gathered in Avtac's office. She stood alone in the dark,gazing out a tall window at the stars.
How did it happen? So few cliff windows even opened and those that did locked with intricate patterns. Only a trained smith who knew the combination could release them. Hayl could never have solved a puzzle that would stymie even her, Manager of Varz. It was harsh, bitter luck. Somehow he'd stumbled on the sequence, a fluke that cost his life and almost took Sevtar's as well.
Why did Sevtar jump? Why did he change his mind? Why did he go berserk? She still felt the horror of seeing him lunge to his death, still felt that terrible sense of loss that hit her when she thought he was gone. After he vaulted back into the room she had wanted to sob with relief.
She was losing control.
It was unacceptable. Was Zecha right, that Sevtar destroyed everything he came near? Or was Doctor Shyl right, that he suffered from some traumatic stress disorder complicated by grief and loneliness? What trauma? He lived a life of luxury. He showed no signs of grief. And how could he be lonely? She
spent almost every night with him.
Her desk com buzzed. Avtac flipped the switch. "Yes?"
"Captain Zecha is here, ma'am," an aide said.
Avtac turned on the lights filling her office with harsh luminance. "Send her in."
It was a muted Zecha who entered and bowed to her. "My greetings."
"How are you?" Avtac asked.
"I'd like to return to duty."
Avtac knew work would heal Zecha better than sitting in Med "All right"
The captain hesitated. "The searchers—ha
ve they—"
Avtac wished she knew words to console the captain for her loss. "They haven't found his body yet. But they will keep looking, even in the storm."
Zecha nodded. "And Sevtar?"
Avtac went to the window and stared out at the night. "Still in Med. Shyl felt it best to keep him sedated until we know how to treat him."
In a soft, ugly voice, Zecha said, "Is having him worth it, Avtac? Are his Five Levels worth the grief they've brought you?"
Avtac continued to stare out the window. She answered to no one and that included the captain of her Hunters. Was having Sevtar worth the grief of losing Savina and Hayl? Only she would ever know her answer to that.
Yes. He was worth it. Nothing would ever convince her to let him go.
Nothing.
In the freezing darkness, thick flakes of snow whirled about a gnarled tree that clung to the cliff face, its roots buckling out of cracks in the rock to form a basket. Hayl huddled within the basket's precarious embrace, shivering violently, starting a slide of pebbles that fell and fell and fell, their clatter fading in the wail of the blizzard. He listened to the wind shriek, knowing that at any moment his added weight on the tree could cause its roots to rip away from the cliff.
The search parties would look for his body at the base of the cliff. Not here. He had no food. No water. No protection. No chance of rescue.
He could only wait to die.
35
Queen's Gamble
Jevrin Karn, alias Jevrin Varz, flew his rider on instruments through the blizzard. The route he took down from Varz hugged perilously close to the cliff, hiding him from the other craft also out in the storm.
The limbs of a tree leapt into view, and he barely managed to yank on the wheel in time to sheer away from the branches. Incredibly, as the tree careened past the windshield he saw what looked like a boy clinging to its roots.