"Obsessed with who?"

"Kharishia. Darius' last wife. The" Her carefully shaded lip rose in a slight, most unladylike sneer. "flutter- headed imbiber of ocarshi and other perception-affecting substances."

"Kharishia?" The soft syllables floated across his palate like a fine wine. "Was that her name?"

"How beautifully you say it, Nikki," she whispered, and her perfume flooded his head.

He biinked. "How do you know?" he asked. "Her name isn't recorded anywhere."

"I know many things about her, Nikaenor my dear," she said softly. "Most of all, that fluttering was not at all her style. It was Anheliaa's notion of her, or perhaps what An- heliaa thought you expected."

"How do you know?"

"Anheliaa told me."

"Not that," he said impatiently. "How do you know about . . . about Kharishia?"

"You mean, you didn't realize her sister was my re- mote ancestor?"

"Three hundred years remote."

"But Family nonetheless, Nikki, and I've a great interest in the history of my family." Another shift, this time to a shy, almost hopeful smile. "We could discuss herand that historyat length, my dear, once this crisis is over. If you'd like . . ."

"I'd" Like very much, he nearly said. But a wise man didn't commit, not when his dearest interests were being used to sway him. That was what Mikhyel always told him.

"And the other?"

"You mean our disastrous wedding night? I'm so very sorry about that, dear, sweet Nikki. Did I hurt you terri- bly?" She wrung her hands, as if washing them under a stream of water. Her eyes dropped, and as if startled, she clasped her hands together to stop them. "I . . . hate to admit it, because it shows such weakness on my part, but it was Anheliaa. She was determined to have that child, and I had no defense against her." She rose and turned her back to him. "You know how she is. You've firsthand knowledge of her incentives."

That much was true. He, Deymorin, Mikhyelthey'd all faced Anheliaa's notions of persuasion.

"She was acting through me, Nikki. I could not stand against her. And she hates men. She hates their physical power, and their obsessive sexuality. She" Even without seeing her face, he could hear her humiliation. "She never in her life . . . knew a man."

"What man in his right mind would have her?"

Her back stiffened, and her head tilted, looking at him, though her face remained shadowed. "Quite." She turned then, and it was compassion he saw. "I don't think any of us can truly imagine what she lives through every day of her life. The pain. The impotence, in the natural sense of the word. She's had power of a sort no one, man or woman, has ever known, but the world, the natural world, has been closed to her since she was a child. Perhaps she wanted to experience . . . well, I presume. She did want the child of Darius' and Kharishia's line, and was determined nothing should prevent its conception."

"And was it worth it? Are you with child? My child?"

She nodded. "Without question, Nikki. If her vision holds true, I will bear the ringmaster of the ages."

"So she wanted a child." Nikki stared past her to the cold fireplace, remembering those final days with Anheliaa.

"And she wanted to punish me. I had defied her. She wasn't about to have me enjoy my end of the bargain. Is that what you're saying?"

"Poor Nikki. Yes, I very much fear so." Her eyes flick- ered and fell. "It wasn't exactly pleasurable for me either."

And raised again, soft, blue, imploring. "Might we try again? I won't say begin. There will never be a first time together, but . . . might we not still find . . . something?

Friendship, at the very least?"

He stared at her, wondering if it was the wine making his head soft, or if he was, in fact, seeing the real Lidye for the first time. He'd much rather be married to this calm, elegant woman, who understood what they'd both lost that night, than any of the other options she'd presented him over the past months.

But still . . .

"Why was I drugged?"

"Last night?"

He nodded.

"To sleep, Nikki. I told you, I needed time. But I wanted you safe, as well."

Reasonable. He didn't like it, but reasonable.

"How is it you're able to leave the Tower at all?"

"Anheliaa, even in the state she is, seems able to steady the rings. In fact, there is little to do but wait in case her control falters."

"Where is Nethaalye? Can she help?"

"Gone, Nikki. Her father took her home after Mikhyel disappeared and the web collapsed. He feared war among the nodes. Feared being caught away from home and in I'm dismayed to say he felt this, however unfounded enemy hands."

"Mirym? Where is she?"

"With Anheliaa, of course. There are the monitors who've always aided Anheliaa. Please, don't judge me harshly. I must rest sometime. Don't ask more of me. I've had so little . . ."

Her voice was shaking too much to say more.

"I didn't mean that, Lidye. Yes, in the name of Darius, send for Mikhyel. Rings, what have I been thinking? Gpt him out of there now. I'll talk to himconvince him. And Deymorin"

{Is right here, fry.} He jumped, and whirled to face the door, where a foot- man was announcing Deymorin dunMheric and Kiyrstine romGaretti. He met Lidye's eyes, thought he saw an im- ploring flicker...

And went at his wife's side to greet his brother.

"What do you mean, he wasn't there?" Deymorin de- manded. "Where else would he be?"

"We conducted a thorough search. Lord dunMheric, and"

"The name's Rhomandi, Captain Sironi gorTanm. Just Rhomandi. And we're going back there and find him."

"I told you, sir, we conducted"

"Obviously not thorough enough!" Deymorin thrust him- self to his feet, and headed for the door. "Wait for me in the foyer."

Sironi glanced past him toward Nikki's wife, then moved to block the door.

Deymorin stopped. Whirled. "Well, madam?"

Lidye had risen as well. Trays of appetizers, as pristine as they'd been when the servants delivered them three hours ago, sat in the center of the salon. She reached now for a cube of cheese. "By all means, m'lord, if you feel your efforts will be more successfulgo. Captain, please wait downstairs." She bit delicately. Chewed slowly. And when Sironi had gone: "However, while one hates to sug- gest the possibility, if a thorough search was made"

"Then I suggest you do not make the suggestion, madam.

I suggest you pray intently to whatever gods you believe in that your high-handed assumptions have not resulted in the death of a Rhomandi. Kiyrstin?"

She had risen and was already moving to his side. "Do you want me to come with you?"

He shook his head. "Just to his room. I want to get him a cloak, some clean clothes."

"Deymorin?" Nikki called across the room. "Should I"

(Stay here!} Deymorin shouted the thought, wanting Nikki to hear, and Nikki's face blanched. Deymorin tried again, more gently. {Keep an eye on Lidye.} Nikki nodded. Deymorin reached for the door, found himself intercepted a second time by Lidye's father's guards. Openly in uniform, here in the Tower.

Deymorin glared across the room at Lidye. "I go where I please in my own house, Lidye romNikaenor."

"For your own safety, Deymorin dunMheric. And that of the web. They will not hinder your movement, I assure you."

Before he could answer, Nikki said, quietly, but firmly, "If they do, Lidye, there will be no hope for reconciliation.

You will lose all Rhomandi support."

Lidye's expression hardened, and she swirled to face Nikki, but the fry, to do him credit, didn't flinch.

"Deymorin," Nikki continued, his eyes still locked on her. "I'll send a message to Jerri. He's a good back-man."

"That's hardly necessary," Lidye said impatiently.

"Perhaps not necessary. But reassuring."

"You insult me!"

"On the contrary, I give you the opportunity to demon- strate your good faith."

A momentary pause, then, with a faint smile, Lidye said, "Ah, Nikaenor, the rings chose more wisely, even, than we supposed. Of course. Call your man."

Nikki said, "Go on, Deymorin. Jerri will meet you at the front door."

Deymorin sent Nikki his silent approval as he caught Kiyrstin's hand and left the salon. Jerri or no Jerri, he had to move quickly. Three hours since Lidye had sent Sironi to fetch Mikhyel from Sparingate. Nearing eight since he'd left his brother alone in a prison filled with men well aware, now, that Mikhyel dunMheric was in their midst.

With Kiyrstin on his heels, he headed for Mikhyel's room. "Stay outside!" He snarled at the guards, when they reached the door to Mikhyel's room, and the uniforms didn't argue, but took up smart positions to either side of the door. Silent. Efficient. If they weren't dogging his heels, he'd be impressed.

The door swung open before his hand touched the latch.

"Raulind!" The sight of Mikhyel's personal servant brought vast relief. "Thank the gods you're here." He stepped inside, .drew Kiyrstin in beside him, and closed the door.

Raulind's thin face was twisted with worry. "M'lord Mikhyel?"

"Did Oshram's boy get through?" Deymorin asked softly, and Raulind nodded.

"I sent a message to Judge Kharmiini," Raulind said.

"But the routing is necessarily circuitous, and by the time I received an answer, word had come that you were in the Tower. I waited, assuming Master Khyel had taken Mistress Lidye immediately into conference. But then, Jerri said . . .

m'lord Dee, where is he?"

"Still there."

Raulind's thin face turned pale. "I feared as much. But Jerri said they were going after him."

"Sironi claims they couldn't find him."

. "You're going back yourself to search?"

He nodded. "I need a cloak. Clothingsomething that goes well with dirt."

"Thank you, m'lord Dee, but there's no need to jest. My wits are back in order." Raulind turned to Kiyrstin. "And is this your brave Mauritumin woman?"

Kiyrstin chuckled. "That's the nicest introduction I've ever had. Mikhyel's told me all about you, Raulind. He holds you in great esteem."

"Thank you, m'lady. He spoke with great admiration of you, before he . . . left." Raulind dipped his head and moved toward the far closet.

Deymorin took Kiyrstin's hands in his. "Kiyrstin, I've got to try to find him, but"

"Might not come back, is that what you're saying, Rags?"

"All depends on why he's missing. Tarim placed Sironi under Brolucci's orders, according to Lidye. Brolucci is An- heliaa's, has been for years. There's just no way of knowing how deep the infection runs."

"Will you confront him before you go?"

"What good could it do now, other than bruise my knuckles?"

"Excuse me, m'lord Dee?"

"Yes, Raul?"

"House-word is, his ring is spinning off-orbit."

"Meaning, he's losing influence fast?"

"Yes, m'lord Dee."

"Meaning, I should save my knuckles?"

"Yes, m'lord Dee. Was he in breeches, sir?"

Deymorin biinked. Realized Raulind's revised "he" was Mikhyel, and nodded.

"Ah." Was Raulind's cryptic response, and he turned back to the closet.