are lucky, one of them may have been Hadar himself. We must recover the bodies, though, before the earthlings start a worldwide panic about aliens. Fomalhaut and Mizar say they are willing to deny on the Star that they had anything to do with the attack or your booby-trapped reversion staff. I will hold court tomorrow, and I’ve summoned Vildiar to appear as well. We may get some truth then.”
The two sphinxes came padding down the stairs. The centaur had stayed on deck.
The queen looked past Rigel. “Halfling Avior, you are most welcome to our realm. I apologize heartily for all the violence and treachery. It is not how we usually do business.” The royal smile shone with charm; even the great disk necklace seemed to glitter in a warmer shade.
Avior bowed, but did not attempt the arms-out gesture. “Your Majesty is very kind.”
“I hope you will choose to stay with us, but the decision is yours. We starborn appreciate art and sponsor it generously. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy our hospitality.” Her smile seemed genuine enough—it was an expression she had not dared direct at the marshal, Avior noticed. “Please sit down, all of you. Marshal, I want you there,” she said, pointing. “Report. Matar, record this.”
The throne pivoted so that the queen could face Rigel on the nearest part of the bench. Starfolk and sphinxes gathered in, but Avior stayed in the background, trying to be inconspicuous. She desperately needed a drink.
Rigel said, “Your Majesty, Commander, Companions: You know that we extroverted to the art gallery and were ambushed. At least two of our attackers were halflings. They arrived only minutes after we did, and their guns must have been acquired on Earth, meaning that they had set up an attack team long in advance. They must have been stalking Avior for some time, perhaps in the hope that I would be the one sent to approach her. They couldn’t have known I would take Izar with me.”
“I didn’t know either,” the queen said with menace.
Rigel wisely ignored that remark and went on to tell of the other treachery, the Alathfar game park, and the meeting with the hermit Shaula. Glancing out windows on the far side of the saloon, Avior realized that the barge was slowly floating over a great city. The buildings gleamed pale in the last wisps of dusk, but there were few artificial lights.
“Shaula?” the queen said with a frown. “I don’t recall a Shaula. Recorder Matar, that is your specialty.”
The green-haired elf played with her collection of bracelets for a moment, seemingly pondering. “Many starborn bear that name. What coloring, Marshal?”
“Bluish.”
“Mmm…Four blue Shaulas. I recall the subdomain Alathfar, though. I was a guest there a few times, back in the reign of King Procyon. It belonged then to Naos Kurhah, who acquired it from a greatfather of his and extended it enormously and with great skill. Kurhah faded about nine years ago, just short of his thirtieth century. He had inherited several large domains, but instead of leaving them to his children, he divided them between all the starborn with whom he had ever paired.” Matar toyed again with her bracelets. “And one beneficiary was a Shaula Starborn, so that fits. She’s in about her fourteenth century and is thought to rank yellow or borderline orange in magic.”
“How far was the burning cabin from the main house?” the queen asked.
“About a hundred meters…elfin paces,” Rigel said. “Maybe more.”
“Even a high orange could not put out a fire at that range impromptu. A wood-built complex like that would be protected with fire-fighting amulets. We must summon this Shaula to court, too. We shall need to force the root portal. Can you direct Commander Zozma to it?”
“Yes,” Rigel said. “But who will force it for you?”
The queen grimaced. “If I cannot trust Mage Fomalhaut, then I am lost.”
She paused, and the glow of her aura darkened to more bluish tones. The other
The two sphinxes came padding down the stairs. The centaur had stayed on deck.
The queen looked past Rigel. “Halfling Avior, you are most welcome to our realm. I apologize heartily for all the violence and treachery. It is not how we usually do business.” The royal smile shone with charm; even the great disk necklace seemed to glitter in a warmer shade.
Avior bowed, but did not attempt the arms-out gesture. “Your Majesty is very kind.”
“I hope you will choose to stay with us, but the decision is yours. We starborn appreciate art and sponsor it generously. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy our hospitality.” Her smile seemed genuine enough—it was an expression she had not dared direct at the marshal, Avior noticed. “Please sit down, all of you. Marshal, I want you there,” she said, pointing. “Report. Matar, record this.”
The throne pivoted so that the queen could face Rigel on the nearest part of the bench. Starfolk and sphinxes gathered in, but Avior stayed in the background, trying to be inconspicuous. She desperately needed a drink.
Rigel said, “Your Majesty, Commander, Companions: You know that we extroverted to the art gallery and were ambushed. At least two of our attackers were halflings. They arrived only minutes after we did, and their guns must have been acquired on Earth, meaning that they had set up an attack team long in advance. They must have been stalking Avior for some time, perhaps in the hope that I would be the one sent to approach her. They couldn’t have known I would take Izar with me.”
“I didn’t know either,” the queen said with menace.
Rigel wisely ignored that remark and went on to tell of the other treachery, the Alathfar game park, and the meeting with the hermit Shaula. Glancing out windows on the far side of the saloon, Avior realized that the barge was slowly floating over a great city. The buildings gleamed pale in the last wisps of dusk, but there were few artificial lights.
“Shaula?” the queen said with a frown. “I don’t recall a Shaula. Recorder Matar, that is your specialty.”
The green-haired elf played with her collection of bracelets for a moment, seemingly pondering. “Many starborn bear that name. What coloring, Marshal?”
“Bluish.”
“Mmm…Four blue Shaulas. I recall the subdomain Alathfar, though. I was a guest there a few times, back in the reign of King Procyon. It belonged then to Naos Kurhah, who acquired it from a greatfather of his and extended it enormously and with great skill. Kurhah faded about nine years ago, just short of his thirtieth century. He had inherited several large domains, but instead of leaving them to his children, he divided them between all the starborn with whom he had ever paired.” Matar toyed again with her bracelets. “And one beneficiary was a Shaula Starborn, so that fits. She’s in about her fourteenth century and is thought to rank yellow or borderline orange in magic.”
“How far was the burning cabin from the main house?” the queen asked.
“About a hundred meters…elfin paces,” Rigel said. “Maybe more.”
“Even a high orange could not put out a fire at that range impromptu. A wood-built complex like that would be protected with fire-fighting amulets. We must summon this Shaula to court, too. We shall need to force the root portal. Can you direct Commander Zozma to it?”
“Yes,” Rigel said. “But who will force it for you?”
The queen grimaced. “If I cannot trust Mage Fomalhaut, then I am lost.”
She paused, and the glow of her aura darkened to more bluish tones. The other
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