"Actually," Siri said, looking over at him, lifting her chin. "I have heard of your reputation, Lightsong the Bold. Useless wasn't the word I heard, however."

"Oh?" he said.

"Yes. I was told you were harmless, though I can see that is not true-for in speaking to you, my ears have certainly been harmed. Not to mention my head, which is beginning to ache."

"Both common symptoms of dealing with me, I'm afraid," he said with an exaggerated sigh.

"That could be solved," Siri said. "Perhaps it would help if you would put a bag over your head and refrained from speaking when others are present. I think I should find you quite amiable in those circ.u.mstances."

Lightsong laughed. Not a bellowing laugh, like her father or some of the men back in Idris, but a more refined laugh. Still, it seemed genuine.

"I knew I liked you, girl," he said.

"I'm not sure if I should find that an insult or not."

"Depends upon how seriously one takes oneself," Lightsong said. "Come, divest yourself of that silly chair and recline on one of these couches. Enjoy the evening."

"I'm not sure that would be proper," Siri said.

"I'm a G.o.d," Lightsong said with a wave of his hand. "I make propriety."

"I think I'll sit anyway," Siri said, though she did stand and have her servants bring the chair further under the pavilion so that she didn't have to speak so loudly. She was careful not to look to long at the contests, lest she be drawn in by them again.

Lightsong smiled. He seemed to enjoy making others uncomfortable. But, then, he also seemed to take little concern for how he was regarded.

"I was honest before, Lightsong," she said. "I need information."

"And I, my dear, was quite honest as well. I am useless. However, I'll try my best to answer your questions-a.s.suming, of course, you will provide answers to mine."

"And... if I don't know the answers to your questions?"

"Then make something up," he said. "I'll never know the difference. Unaware ignorance is far more comfortable than knowledgeable stupidity."

"I'll try to remember that."

"Do so and you defeat the point. Now, your questions?"

"What happened to the previous G.o.d Kings?"

"Died," Lightsong said. "Happens to people sometimes, even G.o.ds. We make, if you haven't noticed, laughable immortals. We keep forgetting about that 'live forever' part and instead find ourselves unexpectedly dead. For the second time. Rather unpleasant, so I hear."

"Dead?" she said. "How did the G.o.d Kings die?"

"Gave away their Breath," Lightsong said. "Isn't that right, Scoot?"

Lightsong's high priest nodded. "It is, your grace. His Divine Majesty Susebron the Fourth died to cure the plague of distrentia that struck T'Telir fifty years ago."

"Wait," Lightsong said. "Isn't distrentia a disease of the bowels?"

"Indeed," the high priest said.

Lightsong frowned. "You mean to tell me that our G.o.d King-the most holy and divine personage in our pantheon-died to cure a few tummy aches?"

"I wouldn't exactly put it that way, your grace."

Lightsong leaned over to Siri. "I'm expected to do that someday, you know. Kill myself so that some old lady will be able to stop messing herself in public. Terribly undignified. No wonder I'm such an embarra.s.sing G.o.d. Must have to do with subconscious self-worth issues."

The high priest shot an apologetic look at Siri. For the first time, she realized that the overweight priest's disapproval wasn't directed at her, but his G.o.d. To her, he smiled.

Maybe they're not all like Tridees, she thought, smiling back.

"The G.o.d King's sacrifice was not a frivolous waste, Vessel," the priest said. "True, diarrhea may not seem a danger to many, but to the elderly and the young it can be quite deadly. Plus, the conditions were spreading other diseases, and the city's commerce-and therefore the kingdom's commerce-had slowed to a crawl. People in outlying villages went months without necessary supplies."

"Well, there you go," Lightsong said. "Question answered. I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because I lied to you," Lightsong said.

"About how the G.o.d King died?"

"Colors, no. About being useless. I promise I will be more diligent in the future."

Siri paused, then found herself smiling even more deeply.

"What?" Lightsong asked, then finished off the last of his drink. It was immediately replaced by another one, this time blue.

"Talking to you is like talking to a river," she said. "I keep getting pulled along with the current and I'm never sure when I'll be able to take another breath."

"Watch out for the rocks, Vessel," the high priest noted. "They look rather innocent, but there's a lot of weight to them under the surface."

"Bah," Lightsong said. "It's the alligators you have to watch for. They can bite. And... what exactly are we talking about, anyway?"

"The G.o.d Kings," Siri said. "When the last one died, an heir had already been produced?"

"Indeed," the high priest said. "In fact, he had just been married the year before. The child had been born only weeks before he died."

Siri sat back in her chair, thoughtful. "And the G.o.d King before him?"

"Died to heal the children of a village, attacked by bandits," Lightsong said. "The commoners love that story. The king was so moved by their suffering that he gave himself up for the simple people."

"And had he been married the year before?"

"No, Vessel," the high priest said. "It was several years afterward. Though, he did die only a month after his second child was born."

Siri looked up. "Was the first child a daughter?"

"Yes," the priest said. "A woman of no divine or Returned powers. How did you know?"

Colors! Siri thought. Both times, right after the heir was born. Did having a child somehow make the G.o.d Kings wish to give their lives away? Or was it something more sinister? A cured plague or healed village were both things that, with a little creative propaganda, could be invented.

"I'm not much of an expert on these things, I'm afraid, Vessel," the high priest continued. "And, I'm afraid that Lord Lightsong is not either. If you press him, he very well could just begin making things up."

"Scoot!" Lightsong said indignantly. "That's slanderous. Oh, and by the way, your zebra is on fire."

"Thank you," Siri said. "Both of you. It has actually been rather helpful."

"If I might suggest..." the high priest said.

"Of course," she replied.

"Try a professional storyteller, Vessel," the priest said. "You can order one in from the city, and they can recite both histories and tales of imagination to you. They will provide much better information than we can."

Siri nodded. Why can't the priests in the palace be this helpful? Of course, if they really were covering up the reason why their G.o.d Kings died, then they had good reason to avoid helping her. In fact, there was a good chance that if she asked for a storyteller, they would just send for one who would tell her what they wanted her to hear.

She frowned. "Could... you do it for me, Lightsong?"

"What?"

"Order in a storyteller," she said. "I should like you to be there, in case I have any questions."

Lightsong shrugged. "I guess I could. Haven't heard a storyteller in some time. Just let me know when."

It wasn't a perfect plan. Her servants were listening and they might be spies for the priests. However, if the storyteller came to Lightsong's palace, perhaps there was a better chance of Siri hearing the truth.

"Thank you," she said, rising.

"Ah, ah, ah?" Lightsong said, raising a finger.

She stopped.

He drank from his cup.

"Well?" she finally asked.

He held up the finger again as he continued to drink, tipping his head back, getting the last bits of slushy ice from the bottom of the cup. He set it aside, mouth blue. "How refreshing. Idris. Wonderful place. Lots of ice. Costs quite a bit, so I've heard. Good thing I don't ever have to pay for anything, eh?"

Siri raised an eyebrow. "And I'm standing here waiting because..."

"You promised to answer some of my questions."

"Oh," she said, sitting back down. "Of course."

"Now, then," he said. "Did you know any policemen back in your home village?"

She c.o.c.ked her head. "Policemen?"

"You know, fellows who keep the law. City watch. Law enforcement officers. Sheriffs. The men who catch crooks and guard dungeons. That sort."

"I... I knew a couple, I guess," she said. "My home city wasn't large but it was the capital. It did attract some difficult people."

"Ah, good," Lightsong said. "Kindly describe them for me. Not the difficult fellows. The city watch."

Siri shrugged. "I don't know. They tended to be careful. They'd interview newcomers to the village, walk the streets looking for wrongdoing, that sort of thing."

"Would you call them inquisitive types?"

"Yes," Siri said. "I guess. I mean, as much as anybody. Maybe more."

"Were there ever any murders in your village?"

"A couple," Siri said, glancing down. "There shouldn't have been-my father always said things like that shouldn't happen in Idris. Said murder was a thing of... well, Hallandren."

Lightsong chuckled. "Yes, we do it all the time. Quite the party trick. Now, did these policemen investigate the murders?"

"Of course."

"Without having to be asked to do so?"

Siri nodded.

"How'd they go about it?"

"I don't know," Siri said. "They asked questions, talked to witnesses, looked for clues. I wasn't involved."

"No, no," Lightsong said. "Of course you weren't. If you'd been a murderer, they would have done something terrible to you. Like... I don't know, exile you to another country?"

Siri felt herself pale, hair growing lighter.

Lightsong just laughed. "Don't go taking me seriously, child. Honestly, I gave up wondering if you were an a.s.sa.s.sin weeks ago. Now, if your servants and mine will stay behind for a second, I think I have something important to tell you."

Siri started as Lightsong stood up. He began to walk from the pavilion, and his servants remained back. Confused but excited, Siri rose from her own seat and hurried after him, waving her servants back. She caught up with him a short distance away on the stone walkway that ran between the various boxes in the arena. Down below, the athletes continued their display.

Lightsong looked down at her, smiling.

They really are tall, she thought, craning a bit. A single foot of extra height made such a difference; when standing next to a man like Lightsong-and not really being that tall in the first place-she felt dwarfed. Maybe he'll tell me the thing I've been looking for, Siri thought. The secret!

"You are playing a dangerous game, my queen," Lightsong said, leaning against the stone railing. It was built after Returned proportions, so it was too high for her to rest against comfortably.

"Game?" she asked.

"Politics," he said, watching the athletes.

"I don't want to play politics."

"That's what I always say," Lightsong said, sighing. "But I keep getting sucked in. Every time. Complaining doesn't stop that-though it does annoy people, which is satisfying in its own right."

Siri frowned. "So you pulled me aside to give me a warning?"