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Killashandra grinned at him. “Crystal singers have preternaturally acute hearing. You and your little band of conspirators were only across the room from me. I heard every word.”

Lars momentarily let the tiller slip but Killashandra grabbed it and steadied the helm.

“A second crystal singer might be all to the good, depending on who they send. But we’ve time to spare – it’ll take nearly ten weeks to get another singer here. I happen to need the contract money so I’ll repair their damned organ. Maybe this time, I’ll get the kind of help I need.” A thought suddenly struck Killashandra. “By all that’s holy, I’ll get you!” She prodded Lars’s chest with her forefinger.

Lars snorted with derision. “I’m the last person welcome in the Conservatory!”

“Ah, but you will be welcome – as the man who rescued this poor abandoned crystal singer from durancevile!”

“What?”

“Well, that would answer why I’ve been absent. But, of course, I never set eyes on my abductor so I can’t say who it might be.” Killashandra fluttered her eyelashes in mock horror. “There I was, taking a stroll to compose myself after that horrible confrontation with an officious oaf and wham! bung! I’m coshed on the head and wake up, all alone, on a desert island, heavens know where!” Killashandra got into the part with a faked swoon. “I’m less of a ham with a properly respectful audience, I might add. But there I am. Lost! Who knows who the dastards are – using a plural will suggest a whole group of conspirators, you see – And then you . . .” Killashandra laid a delicate hand on Lars’s arm. His eyes were bright with mirth and he had his lips pressed together against distracting laughter. “You – loyal despite your terrible disappointment” – and Killashandra put her hand to her breast and breathed hard “ – rescued me and insisted on returning me to the safety of the City, to install the crystal manual so that the priceless organ will be ready for the Summer Festival. Thus currying favor with the powers that be – which, in view of your subversive activities, is a very good idea – and saving them the cost of another expensive crystal singer. We are very expensive to hire, you see. And I have the impression that the Elders are credit-crunchers.”

Lars began to chuckle, rubbing his chin as if he was visualizing those moments of triumph.

“If you can be trusted not to overact” – he ducked as she shook her fist at him – “you know, it might work.”

“Of course it will work! I was able to gauge audience reactions to a pico. And more than just give you a well-deserved return for their meanness and chicanery to you, I’ll pretend that I’m so very nervous about a repetition of assault and battery that I’ll need you by my side all the time.”

“I think,” Lars began, slowly, thoughtfully, “Father and the others will like this plan.”

“Oh?”

Lars gave a rueful snort. “I got rather soundly told off for acting in a unilateral fashion when I abducted you, you know. My father is a mild mannered man most of the time – ”

“Then let us by all means present this idea to him – them. And by the way, speaking of mild-mannered men, what do you know about Corish von Mittelstern?”

“The man looking for his uncle?”

“That’s the one.”

“Well, he’s not an Optherian agent if that’s what you’re worried about. We checked him for residue.”

“Checked him for what?”

“D’you recall the arc at the shuttleport? That’s to prevent Optherians from leaving the planet. The arc is set to detect a mineral residue that is present in our bone marrow. There’s absolutely no argument with the port guards if you try to enter the shuttleport. They just shoot.”

“And that’s activated by any Optherian passing the sensors?”

“Even visitors who’ve stayed long enough to absorb sufficient trace to be detected.” Lars’s expression was sour. “Like my father.”

Killashandra half heard that comment, as she was thinking back to her exit from the port. Thyrol had been right beside her and the alarm hadn’t gone off for them, though it had when the rest of the Optherian quartette had passed.

“Strange, that,” she said half to herself. “No. Corish isn’t Optherian. He came out on the Athena with me. But I’ve a very good notion that he’s an FSP agent of some sort. I mean, what good is just one impartial observer if the object is to change the status quo of an entire planet? Even if I am a crystal singer.”

“Did Corish know that?”

“No.” Killashandra chuckled. “To Citizen von Mittelstern I was a brash and impulsive music student traveling cheap to the Summer Festival!” When Lars gave her a puzzled look, she laughed. “Being a crystal singer entails some rather curious disadvantages which are not relevant to the more important discussion at hand.”

“I don’t know much about crystal singers – ”

“What you don’t know won’t hurt you,” she said, waggling a finger under his nose. “But I’d very much like to know more about Corish, and if there is a missing uncle.”

“Why didn’t Corish recognize you on the beach?”

“The same reason you didn’t. And he didn’t know me all that well,” she added, a bit amused by Lars’s reaction. “He rather obviously, at least to me, cultivated the company of an innocuous and silly young music student. And one or two other anomalies alerted me.”

“I’d encountered a few of those creatures recently myself,” Lars remarked in a reproving drawl.

“I did the best I could with the background material I had.”

Lars pulled her as close to him as the tiller allowed. “Your only mistake, now that I think back on it, were your comments about singing. Everyone in the islands sings. But voice is not an instrument for real music . . . according to the Masters.”

Killashandra began to sputter indignantly. “That in itself proves how stupid they all are!”

Lars laughed in delight at her reaction and then drew his feet up as the water began slopping up their calves.

“Tanny!” he shouted. “On the deck, on the double.”

The hatch was opened so quickly in response to his call that Killashandra wondered how long the young man had had his ear to the wooden panels.

“Haven’t you found us something to eat yet? About time.” For Tanny held up two heavy soup mugs. “Give it over and start bailing.”

Chapter 15

It took quite a bit of persuading on Killashandra’s part to reassure Tanny that she intended no reprisals against him for his very minor part in her abduction. Lars explained that he had managed to sneak her on board the ocean jet with the help of another friend who merely thought Lars’s latest girl friend had had a shade too much new brew.

“One for the girls, are you, m’bucko?” Killashandra had asked in an arch tone.

Lars nodded at her garland. “Not any more, Sunny! I’ve made an honest woman of you!”

That exchange did more to reassure Tanny than any other argument Killashandra had presented. That and the fact that she was perfectly willing to help bail out the cockpit.

Bar Island was reached just before sunset, with enough time to unload the emergency supplies. The Bar Islanders had been directly in the hurricane’s path and suffered more damage than any of the other islands on their sweep. Two men, a woman and a young child had internal injuries which the medical facilities of the smaller settlement could not treat adequately. Lars immediately offered them passage on the Pearl Fisher, giving Killashandra a guarded and rueful grin of regret. Nor did they have a chance to be private that night. Everyone pitched in to finish constructing temporary communal shelters, and Killashandra found herself once again plaiting polly fronds, pleased that her deftness caused no questions. When a halt was called at midnight, Killashandra was far too tired to do more than curl up gratefully against Lars on the sand, her head pillowed on his arm, and fall asleep.