Clarence laughed as they turned toward the door.
“Y'know, I'd rather that was the reason. Gods, I hate being stupid.”
“Stupid would have seen you dead,” Daav said, opening the door and guiding him into the hall.
“They're watching the shadow door?” he asked, meaning Ongit's discreet—and well-guarded—back exit.
“Yeah. That stupid, I'm not.”
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Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon
Chapter Thirty
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
—Terran Proverb
It was early evening when she returned to the Hall, the meeting at Scout Academy having gone longer than she had supposed it would. As had become her custom, she passed through the front parlor of the house itself, in order to collect her mail. The fact that she received mail—invitations, almost exclusively—had at first bemused her. But, after all, she had met a great many people at Lady yo'Lanna's picnic, and it was, as she had learned from Jen, the season to be giving parties.
Today, there were no invitations, but a letter.
Aelliana froze, staring down at the word “dea'Gauss” and her direction, written out with dainty precision:
Aelliana Caylon, in care of the Healers, Chonselta City
Mouth dry, heartbeat pounding in her ears, she stared down at the envelope. It was impossible to deduce whether it held good news or bad. Her hand moved, as if she would break the seal, but she clenched her fingers tight, and forced her arm to her side.
Not here. Not where her elation or her despair would discommode the work of two dozen or more.
Slipping the envelope into her sleeve, she went down the hall, meeting no one, which was perhaps a blessing, and stepped out into the garden.
She hesitated again, once she was out-of-house, but forced herself to walk on until she came to the cottage and let herself in.
There, her back against the door, she had the letter out, snapped the seal and let the envelope fall as she unfolded the single sheet.
Mr. dea'Gauss wasted few words on pleasantries. He wrote, so the lines ran, to apprise her of the state of negotiations to date. Mizel remained adamant in its demands, refusing all counteroffers tendered by Korval. They were therefore about to embark upon a new tactic, which held some increased risk. He did not wish to proceed without first soliciting her thoughts on the topic, as she was a principal in the case, and stood to lose the most, should the stratagem fail.
No, Aelliana thought, he cannot know what Daav will lose, if Mizel will not be persuaded.
She focused again on the page. In brief, Mr. dea'Gauss proposed to challenge Mizel on the harm done to the lifemate bond, harm taken directly from the actions of Mizel's former nadelm. He would intimate that perhaps a hearing before Council was in order, to determine to whom the bond belonged and what balance might be owing for its damage.
Aelliana gasped. A bold move, indeed! To shout the fact of their link, and its deformed state, to all the world—yes, small wonder that Mr. dea'Gauss begged that she contact him at any hour of the day or night, using either of the comm numbers he provided, should she have questions or concerns.
He closed kindly, naming himself her most devoted servant, and bidding her to be of good heart.
She put the letter on the desk and went into the kitchen. Deliberately, she put the kettle on, refilled the cat's water bowl and food dish, took down a mug—and froze.
The sound came again. A knock—not Jen's robust rap, but a hesitant, trembling sound scarcely audible over the roiling of the kettle.
Some instinct guided her to the other door, that gave on to the shaded, unbusy street. She opened it, looking out and then down, to the hedge and the gate, and the thin hand on the latch—
“Sinit!”
Tea, the tinned cookies from the very top cabinet, cheese and rye crackers made a very worthy guest tray, Aelliana thought—and a welcome one, too, judging by Sinit's attentions.
“More tea?” Aelliana murmured.
“If you please,” Sinit said, indistinctly. She swallowed. “These cookies are very good, Aelliana, you should try one!”
“I've only just had lunch,” Aelliana murmured, which was true. Also, she had found of late that sweet things did not please her, which she did not say. Merely, she took a bit of cheese onto a cracker and nibbled it while Sinit disposed of four more cookies.
At last, her sister sighed, and leaned back into the sofa cushions, her teacup gripped tightly in both hands, as if she feared it being snatched away from her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You are very welcome. I'm glad I was at home when you came. Your timing was fortunate; I'd just gotten in from a meeting in Solcintra.”
“To visit . . . your ship?” Sinit asked, with what Aelliana supposed was meant for delicacy.
She smiled. “Indeed, no. My ship is berthed at Chonselta Port; I flew it to Solcintra and met with Verisa pel'Quinot, at the Scout Academy. From today's discussions it seems fairly certain that I will be teaching Math for Survival, and an advanced course in general mathematics. The contract must be drawn and reviewed, of course, but—”
“Scout Academy?” Sinit interrupted. “But . . . you'll still be teaching at—at your usual—”
“I resigned my position at Chonselta Tech,” Aelliana said gently. “I had determined to set up as a courier service, you see, and the demands of that employment are incompatible with the academic calendar. Scout Academy proposes an intensive course of study that will occupy me and my students fully for a relumma, thus leaving three in which to fly.” She sipped her tea, considering Sinit's face.
“What news from home?” Aelliana asked, when it seemed that the silence had stretched too long.
Sinit glanced down into her cup. “Voni's married again,” she said slowly, “so it's only me and Mother in-House. She keeps to her office, though I see her sometimes at meals. My tutor was dismissed; I've signed in with the Virtual Classroom—accounting courses, mostly, and comparative cultures. I—Oh! What a beautiful cat!”
He did, Aelliana supposed, cut a handsome figure, with his plumed tail held high and his whiskers a-quiver, as if he had no notion that there was anything improper in perusing the cheeses on the guest tray.
“He was rather disordered when he first came, but he has cleaned up nicely,” she said. “Extend your finger, slowly—yes. Now wait for a moment.”
The cat considered, then stepped forward, daintily avoiding the tray, and bumped his head forcefully against Sinit's finger.
Aelliana laughed. “He wants his head rubbed, I fear.”
Sinit willingly performed this service, also skritching his chin when it was presented.
“What is her name?”
“His name is Scout,” Aelliana said, leaning forward to put her cup on the table. “He had been called Mouse when he first took up residence, but he has grown so bold that it no longer suits him.”
Scout stepped away from the ministering hand, stretched a back foot in salute and jumped to the floor. Sinit did not look up; her voice when she spoke was very quiet, and far too serious for a girl of nearly fifteen Standards.
“Are you coming home, Aelliana?”
She sighed and shook her head. “No.”
“Is it because—Mother says it's because Korval makes itself free of everyone's treasures.”
An argument that would bear more weight, Aelliana thought sharply, if Mizel had valued her, at all. She sighed.
“It is because I do not love Mizel, nor can I forgive its failures.” She spoke carefully, for to say such a thing—such things were not said. To be outside of the clan was to be dead to the clan. Exactly thus had Ran Eld been deprived of life and every human comfort. She looked to her sister, who was slightly pale, though her eyes were steady.
Aelliana inclined her head. “In addition, Daav yos'Phelium and I are—natural lifemates, bound soul to soul. That Mizel conspires to separate us does not bring the clan nearer to my heart.”