I do not think Rhomatum got that in Lidye."

"But we could in you?"

"No."

"No, you won't? Or no, you can't?"

"I can stabilize them. I could reset them if I truly had to, but little else. Certainly not what Anheliaa planned."

"Were you privy to those plans?"

She shook her head. "Only surmising from things she did say. That was reserved for Lidye . . . if she even got the full truth before Anheliaa died."

"Would you," he asked slowly, "be willing to return to Rhomatum? To help in the Tower?"

"For the sake of web solidarity? I believe, my friend, it will require more than my gesture."

"Solidarity, yes. But more because Lidye truly could use relief. And because I trust you."

"Are you certain that's wise, Mikhyel?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I think, perhaps, you should ask again where my fa- ther is."

A cough interrupted them. "There you are, darlings."

And that poor, hoarse woman flowed in from a side path, through an arbor heavy with blooms. Ganfrion slid between them, a mountain of fabric with arms that engulfed both their waists and guided them firmly down a different path.

"Sorry, Suds," Ganfrion murmured in his normal voice and next his ear. "The lady's dragons are on the prowl.

There's a pedal-cab waiting for you at the gate. The lad will take you and the lady to her home the long way, slow and sweet. I'll meet you there."

"The dragons"

"Won't trouble you."

They were at the side exit, and Ganfrion, shifting to the broken falsetto, whispered, "Have fun, darlings."

A stubbled lip pressed noisily in front of his ear, and the mountain of fabric turned to Nethaalye, whispered some- thing that made her laugh again, an easy, delighted sound Mikhyel would have given much to inspire. But humor, which had never been a large part of his life, was even less so tonight.

When they were safely ensconced within the pedal-cab, he asked, "Your father, Nethaalye?"

"Has gone to Khoratum. There are leaders, and those who would be leaders from all across the Northern Cres- cent converging there."

"For?"

"I don't know specifically, Khyel, and that's the truth.

Ostensibly, Khoratum is celebrating the return of the radi- cal dance following the Collapse. But they're planning something more, and it's not innocent."

"Why do you say that?"

"Many reasons. The simplest? Father took his entire guard with him. Others have done the same."

That surprised a laugh out of him. "What do they plan to do? March on Rhomatum?"

"I don't know." She did not, he noted, echo his laughter.

"If I'd been more clever, if I'd played along with Father's notions, then I'd be more use"

"You are invaluable, my dear. How could you have known?"

"I should have, Khyel. We all should have. But it's not just the guard, loniia went as well."

"Your senior spinner?"

She nodded.

"Why Khoratum?" he wondered aloud. "Why not here?

Or Orenum?"

"It was at Rhyys' invitation, is all I know. Ostensibly, he's planning a festival in honor of your visit. A combining of events with a hiller summer festival, or some such."

"And why didn't you go?"

"I wasn't invited."

A world of meaning in that. Errif loved his daughter.

Would protect her from any possible harm.

Errif also knew his daughter's pro-Rhomandi views, and her intelligence and insight.

There were many reasons Errif might leave his daughter at home.

On the other hand, Giephaetum's ringmaster had gone with him. And the Khoratum line was the source of the web's problem. "Perhaps they're just planning to do alone that which I've been organizing. If I can get to them, con- vince them that we're all ready to work together"

"Perhaps, Mikhyel, but . . ."

"Yes?"

"It's difficult to explain. I've no real specifics, you under- stand. No solid support of my conjecture."

This time, he waited, knowing she would speak when she was ready. For a while, the silence in the cab was broken only by the creak of a wheel and the rustle of cloth as Nethaalye rearranged her skirts.

At last, she said, "The Southern Crescent is on the lead- ing edge of imports. They specialize in making deals. Be- cause we of the North are workers, because our primary function is to create a product, not manipulate the greed of others, the tacit assumption is that we're gullible, child- ish, and in need of . . . patronization. Leadershipin every- thing from fashion to politics. And it's not just Shatum who treats us this way, Mikhyel."

There was no good answer. There was a difference between the people of the Northern Crescent and those of the South- ernas there was a difference between himself and Dey- morin. And as with Deymorin and himself, the difference was a clash of style, motivation, and immediate purpose.

Or perhaps more properly, between Nikki and himself.

Tempting, these days, to judge all relationships according to his recent self-evaluations, but in this case, the compari- son did seem justified.

Just as he had served as a buffer between Nikki and Mheric, the Southern Crescent had acted, over the years, as a protective buffer for the Northern Crescent, economically speaking. Not because they set out believing themselves superior, but by virtue of their geographical location.

And by that accident of fatewhim of Rakshi, Ganfrion saidthe Southern Crescent had learned a whole different set of survival skills. Having grown up protected from the true deceivers of the world, the Northern Crescent, like Nikki, weren't yet ready to match the Kirish'lani head to proverbial head.

Accidents of nature. Position and timing. Such factors shaped the character of societies as well as individuals.

The temptation was to assume that the end goal for all citizens of the Rhomatum Web was the same, that what everyone within the web most desired was a strong and viable web with healthy, productive citizens. Working to- gether, they could complement one another, but they had to recognize and respect their differences first.

But such thinking presupposed against human nature.

Presupposed that everyone placed such sensible, long-term goals above individual power and individual accumulation of wealth. Presupposition that was, in cold light of truth, folly indeed.

"I don't know," he said at last, "that there's anything *

could do to change that, Nethaalye, other than open debate."

"One person can't change the attitudes of entire cities,"

Nethaalye said. "Certainly not now. The distrust has been planted and nourished. Something will be decided in Khor- atum, issues will be raised. We can only deal with what comes down to us from others and not lose our own sense of what's important."

A subject with which, from her tone, Nethaalye had al- ready had to deal.

"I knew, of course, that if I became ringmaster, I'd be expected to be sympathetic to the Northern Crescent, that I'd have duties. Whatever is underway. Father held back, waiting, I suppose, to find out if I was to be the next ring- master of Rhomatum."

"And did you want to be, Talli? You never said, and when Anheliaa explained the dangersthat her own crip- pling was due to the Rings, I wasn't certain . . . except that * wouldn't want to condemn you to a similar fate. And then you left . . ."

"I was to be your wife, Mikhyel. If that duty to my family and the web included controlling the rings of Rhomatum, of course I would. I was not particularly concerned over that aspect of which you speak. I suspect that much of Anheliaa's crippling was linked to her . . . warped use of the ley, though I could, of course, be very wrong. However, that the honor of replacing her went to Lidye did not and does not affect me. I was afraid only that Anheliaa's deci- sion played a part in your disappearance. That you were disappointed in me for cheating you out of your rightful inheritance."

"Never. As for my 'inheritance.' * suspect Anheliaa chose Lidye over you at least in part because she wanted Nikki over myself as the Rhomandi, although he didn't par- ticularly want it either. We've already eliminated Anhe- liaa's meddling. The title belongs with Deymorin, no question about it. When he was with me in the south"

"What . . ." She lifted her hands to her mouth as if to stop even that one word from escaping. "Excuse me. I promised myself I wouldn't ask."

"Talli, you can ask me anything. I can't promise I can answer, but you shouldn't hesitate to ask."

"Khyel, you know I think very highly of you. That I've a great deal of respect for your intelligence . . ."

"Are you trying to ask why I acted like the resident idiot to my brother's pubescent lead?"

Her bent head and tiny shrug was answer enough.

"I'm not certain I can explain. It has to do with too many years of being brothers, I suppose. Being too close and not close enough. We weren't supposed to be together. But I'd . . . been ill. He was worried about me, and we got in each other's way. I'm sorry if it's been an embarrassment for you. We were in the middle of the situation before we realized"

"Not for me, Khyel. For you. They . . . They're saying that this is the real Mikhyel dunMheric. That without An- heliaa, you're nothing. That Anheliaa has kept you in Rho- matum all these years because once you were out, the truth would be known. That the Rhomandi will fall because they are none of them capable of . . . of wiping their own noses without Anheliaa to guide their hands."

He clenched his fist and tapped his knee lightly, when what he truly wanted was to put it through the side of the cab.

He didn't think the lad pedaling the bike would appreci- ate the defacement of his property.

"And is that what you believe?"

Her hand covered his fist. "I know better, my dear friend.

You've always seemed to me the cleverest man I know. If I believed those cruel rumors, I would surely have to con- sider myself a fool as well, and I know that I am not. I was, however, concerned for what might have happened. I feared that Anhehaa's cruelty might finally have broken you. It is.. .it is a great relief to see that that is not the case."

Without looking at her, he lifted her hand to his lips.

"But my father does believe. As do others. It's easier, I believe, for some people to mock those who might outsmart them. To be physically outfought, that's an easily defined accomplishment. But to be outmaneuveredsome would much rather credit someone like Anheliaa, who had the power to destroy, than someone like yourself."

Darius, you are not . . .

One did begin to wonder precisely what one was, under the circumstances.

"When you disappeared, my father lost all expectation.

He made me come home. Last week, when the first reports came in from Shatum about your . . . public appearances with your brother, he decided the rumors regarding your inadequacies were correct and that . . . that the Rhomandi were no longer suited to lead the Syndicate. That's when he left for Khoratum."

"He made you come home?" He took out of that state- ment the most immediately significant revelation, the rest being no more than validation of his own suspicions. "You didn't demand to leave when you found out about . . ." The words wouldn't come, somehow, they seemed to solidify so great a personal betrayal.

"Only a father's command could have made me leave Rhomatum when I did. Only a fool could believe that An- heliaa wasn't dying. I feared for the web, with Lidye in charge, her moods seemed to be fluctuating so wildly, and there was no one to control her, with Anheliaa down and youall of you, gone."

And Mirym. She so carefully failed to mention the great- est provocation for her to leave. He doubted a man could even imagine how betrayed she must have felt.

And yet, she'd been willing, or so she'd implied, to stay in Rhomatum, despite the personal humiliation, for the sake of the web. He wanted her support. He wanted her to go back to Rhomatum, to join with the Rhomandi efforts to restore the web. They needed her.

And he'd come so close to turning her into an enemy.

"Not by my will, Talli," he said, and his voice must have been even lower than he'd intended, by the way she leaned toward him, the way she had to reach a hand to his arm to catch her balance.

He searched after the letter that had consumed his entire day to write and rewrite. It contained everything that had happened in the past months, even to the link he shared with his brothers. For a frantic moment, he feared he'd lost it, back there in an all too public park. Finally, he found it in a different pocket and, with a sigh of relief, pressed it into her hand.

"I hope this explains sufficiently. If, after reading it, you're willingableto forgive . . . me, Iwe allwould very much appreciate it if you would return to Rhomatum."

She smoothed the wrinkles from the letter, then held it to her breast. "I'll read it, Khyel, and be thankful for your trust. But I will return to Rhomatum, and I'll help in what- ever way I can, now I know you are safe and that you ask it. I cannot agree that with internal division lies anything but disaster for us all. I know you, I know your dedication to the web. I cannot believe anyone else could provide better leadership for us."

Relief filled him, from tensions he'd had no idea he was carrying. He closed his eyes, and drew a deep breath, let- ting it out slowly. Then taking her hand in both of his: "Words cannot express my gratitude, my dear."

"Under what pretext do I return?" For the first time, the calm in her voice wavered. "Marriage?"

His heart stopped. The question hanging between them could no longer be ignored.

"After what happened with Mirym?"

"Mirym isn't why I left, Mikhyel. I'd hoped I'd made that clear. She's a servant. A pleasant servant. An intelli- gent one. Men have always relieved their urges with such womenthough I admit to being somewhat surprised in her."