"You'll be whatever annoys you the most."
I swept by him, going toward his bedroom. "You're right," I said.
There was more than enough room in the bed for both of us. Three full-sized orks would have been comfortable in it. Despite, or maybe because of, Caimbeul's promise, I couldn't sleep. I'd been afraid to sleep because of the dreams. But now I suspected there would be no more dreams.
Ysrthgrathe, my old enemy. More faithful than any lover. The weight of my past with him hung in my mind. I shut my eyes, but images kept coming to me. The trail of death and blood that followed me because of him.
A sick feeling settled into my stomach and worked its way up my throat. I shuddered at the thought of the pain and suffering that I knew Ysrth- grathe would inflict. All in my name.
A low moan escaped my lips.
"Aina," said Caimbeui.
"Did I wake you?" I asked. "I'm sorry."
"No," he said. "I can't sleep. I'm feeling cold. Do you mind if I hold you? Strictly for warmth."
I slid across the vast expanse of the bed into the warmth of his arms. And still it was many hours before I slept.
A banging woke me the next morning. "Doesn't anyone just knock in this hotel?" asked Caimbeui. We were tangled up together, just like we used to be in other, happier times. He threw off the covers and grabbed his robe from the edge of the bed.
I pulled the covers up over my head and tried to go back to sleep, but then I remembered where I was and what that meant. With a groan, I threw the cov- ers off and made my way to the bathroom.
Just as I shut the door, I heard the sound of voices, so I poked my head out.
"What? Surprised to see me?"
Ehran.
I groaned. More bad luck. But wasn't that always the case? I rummaged through Caimbeul's suitcase and found a shirt, a pair of pants, and a belt. Not fashionable, but it would have to do.
As I pushed open the door leading to the living room, I could see them squaring off against one an- other, even though they would never actually do anything here.
"Well, well," I said brightly, stepping into the room. "Ehran, won't you join us for breakfast?"
"Aina," he said. "It's been a long time."
"Isn't it always?" I replied. "I know the two of you are just dying to go at one another, but I'm re- ally famished. I'll call down. What are you in the mood for?"
"Answers," Ehran said.
"I don't think that's on the menu."
He jerked his thumb toward Caimbeul. "Why do you spend so much of your time with him?" I half expected Caimbeul to take the bait, but he only glared back at his old rival. Maybe he was keeping quiet because he knew how important all of this was to me.
"Slumming," I said. "It keeps me off the streets. Really, Ehran, who knows why certain people al- ways seem to end up together?"
"Then tell me why you're both here. And why did you have a meeting with Lugh Surehand last night? Which seems to have resulted in an emergency meeting of the High Council being called."
"Good heavens, Ehran," I said. "With spies that good, why do you need to come to us?"
"When I found out you were here as well as him, I decided to come," Ehran said.
I opened the room service menu and glanced over the selections. "Really, Ehran, I'm touched, but we've never been close. And only rarely allied. Why come?"
"Don't try to discuss anything with him, Aina," said Caimbeul. While Ehran and I had been talking, he'd walked to the window and pulled open the drapes. Weak sunlight filled the room. The sky was overcast and looked like it might rain.
"Don't listen to him, Aina," said Ehran. "He just thinks-"
"Would you both shut up?" I nearly shouted. "Haven't you grown tired of all this bickering? There are more important matters at stake than your interminable feud."
"Well, now we're getting down to it," said Ehran.
"For heaven's sake, Aina," said Caimbeul. "Don't breathe a word to him. He'll go running to everyone else quick as you please, and you'll be sunk before you've had a fair hearing."
Then they were off and running. Nothing ever got solved between the two of them-it was still that old business. I confess, my sympathies lay with Caim- beui-he was the aggrieved party, after all-but that's another story, for another time.
I waited until they ran out of steam, which they eventually did. They sat at opposite ends of the room glowering at each other.
"So," I said. "What would you both like for breakfast?"
"Why won't you tell me?" Ehran asked for per- haps the thirtieth time.
I wiped my mouth with the napkin and dropped it onto my empty plate with the remains of the lavish breakfast we'd ordered. Caimbeui had loaded a plate with food, then disappeared into his bedroom. Pour- ing myself another cup of coffee-the real stuff, not that awful soykaf-I got up and went to one of the large armchairs and plopped down on it.
"First, because you and Aithne are long-time friends. I suspect anything you hear from me goes straight back to him. Second, you're also close to Alachia. Oh, don't give me the surprised look. I know she's been a member of the Council since the beginning. You were smart to try to keep that secret, though. There are still a few of us who remember the old days.
"I would hate to think what might happen should Alachia's influence become more… assertive. I be- lieve things might get very difficult indeed. Just re- member, Lofwyr is keeping an eye on things."
Ehran didn't say anything, but leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. I got up and went to open the terrace doors. Nasty habit, that. I'd taken it up briefly and put it aside as quickly. The Indians had the right idea about tobacco. It wasn't a thing to be taken casually. They understood that. Unfortunately, the Europeans didn't.
"I might think that there was a threat in what you're saying," said Ehran.
"No," I said softly. "I don't threaten. You know better than that. I'm just letting you know my position."
"Don't you think it's a bad idea to alienate me right before the meeting of the Council?" He blew little smoke rings and watched them float away from him.
"I know you're willing to hear the truth. And that you might be willing to overlook my unfortunate choice in companions."
Ehran smiled at me. "I've always liked you, de- spite your strange politics." "That and Aithne."
"Yes," he said. "We've all made enemies of one another over the years. It comes from time and con- tact. Such a terrible thing-to be bound together over such a span. Do you sometimes grow weary?"
"Oh, yes," I said. I rose from my chair and went to the terrace doors to close them. Now that Ehran had finished with his cigarette, I found the chill air more than I could bear. It seeped into my bones to- day. I tried to blame it on the humidity, the gray sky, the wind.
"Sometimes," he said softly, "I wonder if we all don't go a little mad from it. In our own ways, of course,"
"How so?"
"Harlequin's and my ongoing quarrel. Alachia's actions in Blood Wood. Your own rejection of your people for the Great Worms. Are not all of these in- sanity?"
"It all depends on where you're looking from," I replied.
He pushed himself away from the table. "I won't say anything to anyone about your being here," he said. "You may count on my discretion. By the way, whatever happened to young Oakforest? Glasgian, you remember? He was seen coming up here, then he never came out. Where is he?"