"I brought clothing for you, when Lendill informed me that you were coming with him," Willem led me to a closet inside Lendill's suite. Lendill kissed the top of my head as I found an entire side of his closet was now filled with clothing in my size.

"But, I can't," I said, wanting to cry. Nobody did things like this for me.

"Shh," Lendill said softly, his lips next to my ear.

"Reah, Ildevar signed off on all your awards. This is the least we can do for you. Come. Look." Willem led us toward a spacious sitting room, and then into a study. Behind the desk were all sorts of gold certificates with Lendill's name on them. On an adjacent wall were others.

"All these are yours, I put them up this morning," Willem informed me, pointing to the adjacent wall. "This one is for single-handedly bringing down the drakus seed trade. This is for handing some of the most wanted criminals in the Alliance to ASD officials. This is for the arrest of six assassins. Need I go on? There isn't one important enough for saving entire planets. Ildevar is working on that problem now."

"You don't need to—tell him to stop," I sighed. "This is nice, but I'm glad to be out of the ASD."

"I know. I grieve for your loss," Willem said. Somehow, he knew about the baby.

"As do I." I was wiping tears away and very close to sobbing my heart out.

"Was it that bad? Truly?" Ildevar Wyyld appeared next to his assistant. "Were your years in the ASD so horrible?" His voice was gentle, and he expected some sort of answer. I gave him the truth as I saw it, as painful as it was.

"Every one of them," I sobbed and skipped away from the Founding Member of the Reth Alliance.

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"We tend to push the ones with special talents and abilities." Norian admitted over dinner. Farzi and Nenzi, left behind by Reah when she'd left so abruptly, were sitting with Lendill on one side of the table while Norian Keef sat on the other. Ildevar Wyyld sat at the head; Willem sat at the opposite end.

"Do we not provide any sort of treatment for those agents in need of it?" Willem asked. "For emotional problems? Don't you test them before accepting them into the ASD?"

"Not in Reah's case," Lendill shot a glance at Norian.

"When she, ah, fell into our laps after her stint on Mandil, there wasn't time to do it before sending her out on the drakus seed thing. And then, when that turned out as well as it did, we, ah, didn't." Norian busied himself with his plate of food. "Corners are cut in the interests of the Alliance," he added. "Sometimes."

"Child, perhaps you should rethink your policy improvisation from now on," Ildevar said quietly. "Do we know where she might be? I had no intention of upsetting her so badly."

"Deonus, she lost her child. What can you expect?" Willem offered Ildevar a glance across the table.

"When did this happen? Did someone forget to tell me?" Ildevar was shocked.

"I, uh," Norian mumbled.

"You didn't tell him?" Even Lendill sounded upset.

"You treat her bad," Nenzi stood, pointing a finger at Norian. "She ask you to wait for the baby to come. You force her. I want to leave." Nenzi stalked away from the table.

"I'll get him—we probably should take him to Gavril," Lendill stood and slapped his napkin on his seat. Farzi rose right behind Lendill and followed.

"Child, what have you done?" Ildevar stared at Norian.

"Reah lost Torevik's High Demon daughter," Willem stated. "I see and hear things, Deonus. I was waiting for Norian to report this to you."

"I can't take it back. I wish I could." Norian rose from his seat.

"Norian, don't let this mistake take you down," Willem said, rising as well. "Ildevar is correct—review your practices. Don't let this happen again. Be strong, Norian. Everybody needs you to be strong."

"Why didn't you hand that pep talk to Reah, Willem? Why?" Norian folded away.

"Willem, I know not what to do," Ildevar gazed sadly at his assistant.

"Deonus, at times, things remain outside our control. We know this. A higher hand stirs the waters and we are left to deal with the ripples."

"Spoken as a true Seer, Willem," Ildevar agreed.

"It will take a connection to six stars to pull enough energy without damaging any of them." A Larentii came to sit beside me. I was already in full Thifilatha and towered over him, although he was at least eight-and-a-half feet tall in Earth measurements.

I'd been thinking of Aurelius and using his archaic methods to gauge heights seemed appropriate. Evening had fallen on that area of Cloudsong and the stars were beginning to appear overhead. I'd originally planned to do this during the day, but events had prevented it. At least something was going right, since Renegar said it would take energy from six stars to make repairs.

"Renegar?" I smiled—I couldn't help it—he'd come to Cloudsong. "You haven't come to talk me out of this, have you?" The others had. I expected nothing else, although I might listen to Ren before I listened to anyone else. According to Lissa, Ren had fathered a Larentii Wise One, and was grandfather to another. I wouldn't discount anything Ren said.

"I am here to monitor your efforts," he smiled up at my full Thifilatha. "I knew I would find you here. Shall we begin?"

"Are you helping?" I asked, a bit surprised.

"I will only tell you when you have pulled enough energy from each star, so you may switch at the proper time," he said. "I cannot help by pulling the energy, but there is nothing to prevent me from sharing information."

"Oh." I nodded at his words and turned back to the stars, selecting my first target. Altogether, it took the better part of six clicks, one click per star. Renegar did as he'd promised, giving me the proper time to change. I was exhausted afterward and wishing I had my tent and basket of food. Both would have been welcome.

"That is also why I came," Ren watched as I changed back to myself and reached tiredly for my clothing. He helped me dress. "I will take you to Beliphar; Graegar asked me to do this. There is a place on that deserted world where you might stay, unless you wish to go to one of your mates, tonight. Or to more than one of them."

"They don't need me and I don't think I want them," I sighed.

"Little one, your first statement is not true. I only hope that eventually the second will not be true as well. Meanwhile, Beliphar awaits." He folded me to the abandoned world.

"Everything here is in stasis—you may use it as your own," Ren informed me as I wandered through the huge kitchen. The cold keepers hummed—the solar collectors still operated. Food was in the keepers and cabinets that I could prepare if I wanted, or I could nibble on fresh fruits and vegetables if I were too exhausted to cook.

"Do you know if Farzi and Nenzi are all right?" I asked. I'd worried over them as soon as I'd skipped away from Wyyld.

"They are well—Lendill contacted Gavril Montegue and they have been taken to Campiaa."

"Good." I heaved another weary breath. "Thank you for your help," I nodded to him.

"It was the least I could do, little demon." He inclined his head briefly and folded away.

I truly felt too tired to cook, but forced myself to do it anyway. I had a broiled steak, seasoned just right, with a salad and two glasses of wine. The dishes could wait until I woke—I found a bed not far away from the kitchen and huddled into it, too tired to cry, even, over the turns my life had taken.

"Will you be able to conceal them?" Lersen Strand waved a hand to encompass the army of Giffelithi mercenaries. Giffel was a sister planet to Liffel, and they were still angry that Liffel had been destroyed by the Reth Alliance. They had no love for any part of it, and looked to profit from anything that might bring about its downfall.

Lersen and his cousins had paid top credit for this army, and then spent another fortune equipping it. Few had ranos pistols or rifles—those were extremely difficult to come by since Teeg San Gerxon had taken over. That was about to change. Giffel didn't want to be under San Gerxon's thumb any more than the Strands, but they wouldn't refuse the money the Strands offered.

"I can easily conceal all of them," Nidris smiled at Lerson's question. Once he tapped into Campiaa's core, anything might be accomplished. He looked over the assembled army of Giffelithi dwarves. Nidris had no idea how the Strands managed to put funding together to hire five hundred mercenaries, and cared even less.

He'd do his job, the Strands would have Campiaa, wealth would be his and he'd find another crime family to hire him. No sense in staying around for the Strands to connect him to Campiaa's tapped core. He recognized the three warlocks Lersen Strand had hired—Zellar had trained them but hadn't taught them how to tap cores. That he'd reserved for the power finders. None of the three held that talent.

"Good," Lersen Strand smiled at Nidris' reply. He, his three cousins and Nidris stood on the catwalk overlooking the floor of the warehouse. The other three warlocks would transport the army; Nidris would conceal it when they landed on Campiaa. Then, when all the visiting dignitaries were in one spot, signing up for membership in the Campiaan Alliance, Lersen and his army would strike. Nidris chuckled.

"Why do you laugh?" Lersen frowned at his newest warlock.

"I would like very much to see the look on San Gerxon's face when he dies."

"I will describe it to you. In detail," Lersen promised.

"Fes, he's working on the pastry," Aldah muttered.

"And he's doing a good job. Why do you care, brother—you hate making pastry." Fes stared at his younger brother. "You like making desserts better—handle that."

"You don't see it, do you," Aldah accused. "He'll try to take this away from us."




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