Kindle The Mirrors
                         Prologue
           20,000, Age of Change, Early Spring
    As he stood there and watched her walk away, Peranor 
blinked. He felt as if a weight should be dropping from 
him, and as if he should feel tired and disappointed, both 
at once. All he felt was regret and relief, a combination 
of the two, but not really either of the pure emotions 
that he had expected. 
    That's because I am here, with you.
    He did not start or even turn at the voice; they were 
past that stage. But he did lean back as he closed his 
eyes and felt her arms slip around him. Beldana leaned her 
head on his shoulder, and he could also feel her closing 
her eyes, even though he could not see it. They were that 
deeply bonded now.
    "That's because I'm here," Beldana whispered. "I tried 
to leave you in privacy, I really did, but when we are as 
close as we are and you were feeling what you were-"
    "I know. It wasn't your fault. It's something that's 
going to happen, and that we're going to have to get used 
to." Peranor turned to look at her gently. "You don't 
regret-"
    "That we bonded?" Beldana shook her head, leaning back 
against the wall and letting him go. "We did what we had 
to do, and I am more than happy with the results of that 
choice." She fixed him with a steady dark gaze, and he 
felt her restlessness as if it had been his own. "It was 
someone else who didn't want to bond, as I recall. And I 
don't think you've overcome your reluctance, even now."
    Peranor glanced away.
    "I'd like to be alone for a while," he said at last.
    "I can't-"
    "Alone physically." He turned and fixed her with a 
pleading gaze.
    "It's an illusion," said Beldana. "And you've always 
fought to keep yourself free of those."
    Peranor flinched. She didn't know that because she had 
known him for years; she knew that because she knew him 
that deeply, thanks to the bond. An illusionist had to be 
able to step back and look at reality, as well as accept 
reality, and not think that-
    He can cure everything with magic, said the second 
voice in his head that was both and was not a part of him.
    He flinched again and tugged his eyes away from hers. 
No matter what, he needed some distance. The bond was 
always more intense when they stood here and stared at 
each other like that.
    "Please."
    A long sigh. The bond was equally theirs, and so it 
was unfair of him to ask her to leave, but at the same 
time, she wouldn't stay and make him deliberately unhappy. 
"All right. But be careful."
    "Why?"
    She shot him a glance. Do you have to ask? You know 
perfectly well why.
    That was a mistake.
    I don't think it was.
    I think that-
    Whoever sent you to the Silver World knew exactly what 
she was doing. It could happen again.
    You would bring me back again, just like you did the 
first time.
    But I would prefer not to have to. I should go with 
you, if you're going for a walk. Her muscles tensed, and 
she put a hand on the hilt of the sword at her side. 
Peranor could feel the smoothness of the hilt beneath his 
fingers, the thrumming magic of it. Stars, he could feel 
the callouses on his hands, though he had never wielded a 
blade, as if they had been there all his life. 
    The bond was building again. He tore himself away from 
her, though he could still feel the way she stood there, 
feel everything about her- as she could feel everything 
about him. "Please."
    "Don't wander too far."
    He nodded fractionally, and then turned and lifted 
into the air. Beldana's eyes watched him fly away. He 
could feel them on his back, and he could see her watching 
him, through the second pair of eyes that always opened in 
his mind when he wasn't careful. He could see himself 
soaring over the sky-
    Enough.
    He dropped the tight link to the bond that he always 
kept inside himself now- it was a reversal of the natural 
process, he thought, as if he had learned to walk about 
with his fists clenched instead of swinging free- and 
looked around, determined to make the most of the flight 
and forget about things for a little while. The great 
crystal tree that cradled the city of Esalo in its 
branches, over and around which he flew, could make him do 
that. It was beautiful, captured light shining through the 
transparent bark and shining leaves, and Elwen- and 
vespel-made colors of every sort adding to the effect.
    He came to the edge of the great rocky island on which 
the tree stood and watched the leaping Sea of Sparks for a 
while, the motion of the lava soothing him as water might 
have in a different setting. He compared the colors of the 
real world to the colors he could weave in an illusion, 
and at last came to the conclusion that he couldn't 
achieve that bright a red.
    Not yet.
    Smiling slightly, Peranor turned away from the Sea and 
flew back towards the house he was sharing with Beldana 
for the moment, until the Kaleina summoned them to the 
Crystal Court. That short moment away had been exactly 
what he needed. Now he could think about and accept 
reality.
    You were never away, said a voice in his mind.




                        Chapter 1
                     Before The Blood
    "Kindle the mirrors: an old phrase meaning deception, 
for lighting a fire in a mirror or near a mirror causes 
such a dazzling light that one cannot see. Blinding by 
light, it means. If something is so bright that one cannot 
make it out, then the watcher tends to decide that the 
unobserved thing is good, whether or not that is actually 
true."
    -From Potonio Flem, or Mirrors of the Soul.

    Peranor stared wonderingly into the eyes of the small 
vespel child before him. She stood only as tall as his 
knee, but the luminous golden eyes that regarded him held 
as much seriousness as he could have expected from an 
adult.
    "It is?" he asked.
    "Yes, it is," she said, and grabbed his arms, the 
claws on her six-fingered hands pricking him slightly. 
"You'll see- watch-"
    She was staring intently at a patch of empty air, and 
Peranor smiled a little as he called forth the vision of 
the flower that she had loved. She gasped and then stared 
with all the intensity that children can give and adults 
lose as they grow older.
    "See?"
    Peranor had meant the flower to be blue or green, but 
it had somehow wound up a combination of both, a deep 
blue-green that he did have to admit was about the color 
of an aquamarine. He studied it for a moment more, 
wondering how that could have happened. He had been using 
his illusion-gift every day since he arrived in Esalo, for 
the purpose of entertaining these children if nothing 
else. It seemed strange, ridiculous, even, that his gift 
had begun to slip.
    The little one wriggled beside him. "I want my candy 
now."
    Peranor came back to himself and hastily handed her a 
small piece of candy that she gobbled as her mother turned 
to frown. Her mother sighed and clicked her claws in a 
gesture of exasperation, then came over to rescue the 
girl, giving Peranor a stern glance in the bargain.
    Peranor smiled faintly. Unlike Elwen children, vespel 
children were discouraged from displaying many signs of 
childish desire for this or that. They would bond someday, 
and they would be part of a larger group- a pair, a triad, 
or a sextet. Those desires were more important than the 
selfish individual ones.
    But, notwithstanding that, Peranor was pleased to see 
the little one reacting normally again. She had been 
terrorized in the attack on Shadowtown, and it had taken 
her two dances to start trusting Elwens again. Her 
behavior was still a little erratic, but he would accept 
that any day if it meant that she could look up at him 
without fear in her eyes.
    Without knowing quite why, he turned his head and 
looked over to see Beldana playing with two other vespel 
children who wanted to know about the Bashisani. She was 
explaining everything she thought they could or should 
understand about killing to defend the peace. Her sword 
balanced across her dark hands, glowing fiercely as 
always, but even more fiercely than usual in contrast to 
her sable skin.
    The expression on her face was meant to be stern, but 
her eyes gave her away. She enjoyed seeing these children 
she had saved, refugees from Shadowtown, laughing and 
playing once again.
    It was their bond, which sometimes acted independently 
of either Elwen who formed it, that had wanted him to see 
this.
    Peranor watched for a moment, then turned to speak to 
another of the slowly recovering vespels. He knew that. He 
had seen it before. He felt it every day. There was very 
little that he did not know about her.
    And you refuse to see, whispered the voice in the back 
of his mind.
    I refuse to give up hope.
    Hope of what? What hope would you have if Lelxi 
returned to you?
    I don't know.
    The bond was not satisfied with that, and neither was 
Beldana, who turned her head to glance at him. Peranor 
avoided her gaze, and fixed it on the vespel woman before 
him.
    "How are you, Terichee?"
    "Getting along." She smiled at him nervously. She 
still didn't like Elwens. She had been in the middle of a 
fight, and she had seen her dyadmate die, and both those 
events were as traumatic to a vespel as rape would be to 
an Elwen.
    She was trying, though. Peranor had to give her that 
much. "And how is Serian?"
    "Much better." She could speak of the vespel who was 
probably going to become her new dyadmate with much more 
enthusiasm and vigor. "She said the other day that she 
thinks she'll be able to walk again soon."
    Peranor half-closed his eyes in relief, and Beldana 
smiled on the other side of the room. "No, I'm not a 
Bashisan because I like to kill," she answered the 
children at her feet.
    "Then why?" asked one of them.
    "I heard that darkness Elwens eat souls," said the 
other one skeptically.
    "I only eat souls in defense of the Defense," said 
Beldana, and bared her fangs to show them. "I have to, you 
see. The vespels gave my people peace and protection from 
the horrors of war when they came to Arcadia thousands of 
years ago. It is only right that I do something to repay 
them."
    She did not think that the children understood all of 
it, but one of them did say, hesitantly, "Then you kill 
for the Defense?"
    "Yes."
    "And that's different?"
    "Yes. Your people-" she tickled one of the children 
under his furry chin, making him giggle and purr like one 
of the cats his people so resembled "-gave mine so much 
that we have to give something back. This is one way that 
I give something back."
    "My mama told me killing was evil no matter what," 
said the little girl.
    "Not always."
    Her eyes were burning on him again, Peranor thought, 
and he turned back to Terichee, who was still chattering 
animatedly on about Serian. She had been badly wounded in 
the curalli and atagarn attack on Shadowtown, but she 
could walk again soon, the healers had said, and she could 
bond. Her mind was not too ravaged to do so again, as had 
at first been feared. She had lost her two triadmates, one 
of whom had been the father of her children, and that was 
three times as traumatic as the loss of a dyadmate. But 
she was strong. She would make it, said Terichee, and they 
would bond.
    "That's wonderful," said Peranor sincerely. He 
couldn't imagine bonding as the vespels did, losing his 
identity as part of a greater being, speaking the same 
words and doing the same things that every other person in 
the group did, but he could respect how necessary it was 
for the vespels.
    "Thank you."
    He half-turned away from her as the door opened, 
thinking it might be a vespel man whom he liked, Seltorin, 
and whom he had missed among the refugees for several days 
now. But Beldana saw the door move and told him who it was 
before he had completed the turn. Peranor stiffened his 
body in annoyance.
    You wanted to know.
    I didn't want you to tell me.
    What does it matter who sees him? There's not a real 
difference between our pairs of eyes anymore, Per. I see 
the colors; you see the weak spots on an enemy. And this 
is a messenger from the Kaleina, not Seltorin. Hardly 
worth getting upset over.
    Peranor let out a slow breath. No, it wasn't. It was 
just that, every single time he thought he had resigned 
himself to the bond, something like this would happen.
    A brief, warm wave swept over him. I'm sorry, she 
murmured.
    He couldn't stand against her when she did that. He 
gave her a half-annoyed, half-loving look before turning 
to meet the messenger, who was clad in the purple robes of 
those who served the vespel rulers.
    "Yes?"
    The vespel bowed to him, claws out and folded in front 
of him, the large green eyes fixed on him glowing with the 
glaze that meant he was in telepathic contact with someone 
else. It might have been the Kaleina themselves, for all 
that Peranor knew. "My lord, I have a message for you from 
the Crystal Court."
    "Yes?" Peranor had never understood all the 
formalities that the vespels seemed to think should 
accompany a message. Why not just say what you were going 
to say and be done with it? It was not as if a messenger 
was the one charged with composing the message.
    Most of the time.
    "The lords and ladies of that most august group, the 
Kaleina," said the messenger, in slow tones that did make 
Peranor wonder if he was making it up as he went along, 
"want to tell you that you and the Lady Beldana will be 
honored before the Crystal Court, together, in six days' 
time."
    Peranor managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes,  
though it was a near thing. They had been supposed to 
visit the Court several times now. This was the fifth time 
that the visit had been put off.
    Nothing to do but act gracious about it, though. The 
Kaleina was probably very busy as it was, and he was 
surprised and touched that they had taken the time to send 
a messenger. "Very well," he said. "Where should we come 
to the Court, and at what time should we arrive?"
    "You should come at the second hour after noon," said 
the messenger, nodding slowly as if he was pleased with 
himself or just thought that Peranor would need the extra 
confirmation. "And you should come to the Door of the 
Bashisani."
    Peranor started to glance over at Beldana to make sure 
that she knew where that was, and then found that he did 
not have to. She could hear the words through his ears, 
after all, and was nodding behind his back.
    "Very well," he said again.
    The vespel messenger turned and began pacing away 
again, head bowed as if in thought. Peranor turned back to 
Terichee, signaling his apology at the interruption, and 
found her staring at him.
    "Why do they want to honor you?"
    "They think of us as the heroes of the battle at 
Shadowtown," he explained.
    The vespel woman let out a breath and clenched her 
hands so that it seemed as if her claws would dig into her 
sensitive palms. "And what are the rest of us?" she asked.
    "What?"
    "What are the rest of us?" she repeated, bitterly. 
"Did we do nothing? We survived the trauma and the horror 
of it, and we are healing. We are the true heroes. We are 
the ones who should be honored, not those who killed other 
Elwens."
    "I'm sure the Kaleina will want to honor you, too, and 
all the others who survived-"
    "No. They only want to honor killers. The world is 
rising into war again, and when it does so, only killers 
are valued. Not healers, not mothers, not everyone who 
does anything she can to help others live. Only killers." 
She turned away from him.
    "I did not kill anyone during the battle, my lady."
    "You must have."
    "No. I helped Beldana to defend her life and yours, 
and I think that is probably the only thing that they want 
to honor me for."
    "No. You said they think of you as heroes. That means 
the same thing as killer."
    Peranor bowed his head sadly. Killing was coming back 
to the world after nearly twenty thousand years free of 
war, and no one was sadder about it than he was. But he 
did not hate the Bashisani, and others whose duties 
commanded that they kill. He had seen vespels do the same 
thing.
    Beldana had taught him that not all kinds of killing 
were the same.
    "I pray that you can live without being touched by it, 
my lady."
    "We can't. We were already touched and scarred by it, 
everyone in this room."
    "You said that you were healing. I think there is hope 
to be found in that."
    "Only if you think that we will be allowed to heal in 
peace, and not touched by the war again."
    "I will give my life to prevent that from happening 
again," said Peranor steadily.
    Terichee walked away. Peranor sighed and glanced 
around, wondering if there was someone else he could speak 
to, could comfort. But all the children in sight were 
playing happily, and all the adults had seen the messenger 
and heard or guessed the message. They all stared at him 
coldly.
    Peranor agreed with them. He really did. War was 
rising and the Kaleina and the Defense would need its 
heroes, but this didn't mean that killers had to be 
honored.
    But the Kaleina had chosen to do it this way, and the 
people who complained would have to do things better, in 
his opinion, before the Kaleina could listen to them.
    "Ready?"
    He started. It was rare for him not to hear Beldana 
approach, but so lost had he been in his thoughts that the 
bond had been suppressed. "Yes. You?"
    She looked back at the children she had played with 
and smiled a little sadly. "I suppose that you heard me 
encouraging them not to hate the Bashisani. So did their 
mothers, and that means that I've been asked politely but 
firmly not to come back."
    Peranor could see the two vespel women who were the 
mothers of the children talking to them sternly and 
quietly, and the children looking more than a little 
ashamed.
    "You do what you can."
    "Yes. So do you." Beldana slipped her sword back into 
its sheath and shook her head. "And if you stay with me, 
you'll soon be hated more violently even than you hate 
killing yourself."
    "I didn't think it would be this bad in Esalo," said 
Peranor sincerely as he stepped out into the street, 
slipping for a moment before finding his balance on the 
slick crystal. Beldana walked easily on it, as she had 
been doing most of her life, and offered silent support 
from her own muscles. Peranor refused it. "The Bashisani 
at home are hated, but everyone in Leecirna is provincial. 
Everyone who knows anything knows that."
    He said it with a smile, but Beldana only shot him a 
dark glance and did not respond. At least, not to the 
self-shot barb. "Here," she said softly, "the Bashisani 
are more plentiful. We have to be; a bigger city, 
especially the capital of the Defense, is going to mean 
more problems. But we remind them of killing and violence 
the more, because of that, and they have a hard time 
forgiving us that."
    "I'm sorry."
    "I'm sorrier for you. I've lived with it for most of 
my life. You'll have to find a way to learn to live with 
it."
    "Why?" Peranor asked. Her glance reprimanded him.
    "You know perfectly well why."
    "I have no desire to become a Bashisan." Peranor 
halted near the railing that bounded this branch from the 
fall into space, and stared down into the drop below. It 
was of a great enough height that he could get some sense 
of the dizziness that plagued most in Esalo, which 
ordinarily did not trouble him because he could fly. He 
filled his mind with thoughts of that so that he could not 
hear her thoughts.
    "You will become one." Her hand on his shoulder was 
understanding, which he loved and which in some ways was 
infuriating. It was very hard to argue with her; they 
understood each other too well. "Your gifts are needed by 
the Defense, and our bond- they don't even know what it 
is, yet. They need time to find out. It will be easier if 
we work in the barracks under their supervision."
    "Easier for them to do what?" He did not turn to face 
her. He could see and feel all the expressions on her face 
without doing so. 
    "To learn what we are?"
    "Why do they need to know that?"
    "To insure that we are not a threat to the Defense." 
Beldana softly squeezed his arm. "Many new kinds of magic 
are appearing that are, whether or not those who wield 
them intend to use them against the Defense or not. You 
know that. They have to make sure that our bond is not 
another such."
    "Why did we have to be the lucky ones?" Peranor asked, 
turning with a slashing motion to face her. "Why did we 
have to bond in a way that no other Elwens ever have? Why 
be the first?"
    "Maybe it is destiny's way of providing someone who 
can fight the land Elwens and their destructive magic, or 
something else, something that may be a threat to the 
Defense that we don't even know about yet." Her eyes 
flashed as she regarded him, and he could feel her 
impatience and her wonder. He hadn't shown her such 
feelings since their arrival in Esalo and the very 
beginning of her bond. She had thought he accepted it-
    Peranor looked away. Thinking her thoughts as his own 
was one of the things that he wanted to avoid.
    You can't avoid it.
    She only used the silent voice when she was serious, 
and he sighed and looked back with a strained smile. 
"Sorry," he muttered. "But this is- dragging on my nerves. 
I thought that we would see the Kaleina at once, and they 
would tell us what the bond is, and what we could and 
couldn't do with it. Instead, we have to endure each day 
in silence and wonder, and discover new intimacies every 
day."
    "I know," said Beldana. "The severing of your 
connection with Lelxi didn't help at all, either. I can 
still tell that."
    Peranor did look away again, and made no apology, 
silent or aloud, for it this time. Lelxi had been almost 
his only friend left from his days in Leecirna; others 
were dead in the rebellion or left behind, proclaiming 
themselves apart in one way or another. Lelxi had been his 
lover, the woman he thought he loved, the woman he 
intended to marry.
    "How?" Beldana whispered. "She was cruel to you."
    "In the way that a cat is cruel." If he closed his 
eyes, he could still see hers, and the laughter that 
lingered in their green depths. That was one shade that he 
had never managed to capture in illusion, either, perhaps 
because he had never really tried to sculpt her face and 
it needed to have the right context. "It wasn't something 
that she did, either consciously or unconsciously. She 
was- just herself."
    He stopped as he realized that he was speaking of 
Lelxi as if she was dead, and gave himself a small shake. 
She wasn't dead. She would be singing in the Court of the 
Kaleina in-
    He grunted. In six days' time. The same time that he 
and Beldana would be there.
    "You're not going near her."
    He opened his eyes and smiled wanly at her. "Is 
someone jealous?"
    "Yes," she said, which made him blink. "Jealous of the 
time that I will spend, the pain that I will feel, if you 
go near her. Please do try to remember that I feel 
everything you feel. Impatience, bitterness, longing to be 
free- and lust or love or friendship or whatever it is you 
feel for her. And pain."
    "I'm sorry," Peranor whispered, overwhelmed. He had no 
idea it had already gone so deep; because he could keep 
some minor things concealed from her at times, he had 
thought that he was keeping everything hidden. "I'm so 
sorry."
    "You don't need to apologize," said Beldana. "Just 
don't go near her again. It wounds you, and that means 
wounds the both of us, and it doesn't accomplish anything. 
She's never going to love you or marry you. She told you 
that herself."
    "Yes, and it still hurts."
    "Then let's find something that won't." Beldana caught 
his arm and pulled him around. "You're hungry."
    There was never a question in her voice about that, 
not anymore. There couldn't be. The blood-thirst was 
something too powerful to hold or hide. Peranor nodded 
without embarrassment. "Yes. If I could find a horse 
again, then-"
    "No."
    "What?"
    "Drinking horse blood kept us up half the night with 
stomach cramps."
    "It isn't horse blood. I drank it all the time back in 
Leecirna without ill effects. That horse ate something 
that disagreed with it, or me. I should have asked what it 
died from," he muttered under his breath.
    "We should have asked. It disagreed with us." She gave 
his arm a slight shake. "When will you learn that you're 
not alone any more?"
    "I certainly know that. I can hear you snoring on the 
other side of the house."
    She tried to punch him; he darted aside. "Why do you 
want to do that when you're only going to feel the pain 
yourself?" he called to her.
    "It'll be worth it."
    With that as warning, he kept in the air ahead of her 
all the way to the Pens.
----------------------------------------------------------
    Peranor wiped the blood from his mouth and sighed in 
contentment, then smiled as he noticed that Beldana still 
had her eyes closed. He nudged her with an elbow. "You can 
stop enjoying yourself now."
    "It's so powerful," she breathed as her eyes slid 
open. "I can feel the life leaving, the flowing-" She 
shook her head. "Is that what you've always felt? Your 
whole life?" She looked a little envious. Her soul-taking 
power was only used in dire need, and could not become a 
source of pleasure or power to her, after all.
    "Yes, only I don't like to think of it that way," said 
Peranor, a little disturbed by the expression on her face, 
even though he knew what lay behind her thoughts. "If I 
had my choice, I wouldn't be drinking blood at all."
    "You get irrational when you don't."
    "If I had my choice, I said."
    Beldana shook her head and looked at him gently, but 
without understanding. "You use what you have to serve the 
Defense," she said, "to protect and help those who have 
less- and there are always those who have less. You have 
been powerfully gifted, and you have the will to help 
others as well as the means. Why do you want to change 
what you are?"
    Peranor grimaced and opened his mouth to reply, but 
his latest continuation of their never-ending argument was 
abruptly cut off. He stared at the dim purple shape moving 
among the cattle and horses and others beasts penned here 
for blood-drinkers like himself, and could think of 
nothing to say.
    "What is it?"
    "What would a vespel be doing here?" They hated the 
sight and smell of blood, even the feel of it coating 
their hands if they accidentally cut themselves or 
scratched someone else. Peranor had never seen a vespel 
within a mile of a Pen or a slaughterhouse.
    "Are you certain-" Beldana began, and then paused. She 
had seen the vespel through his eyes, but her silent voice 
in his mind conveyed much more than that. Peranor, 
something is wrong.
    "What?"
    She shot him a glance at his speaking aloud, telling 
him this was no time for games. That vespel- I don't like 
it. He shouldn't be here.
    He's wearing the purple of a Kaleina messenger. He 
probably has something else to tell us about our visit to 
the Court. Peranor sighed. Perhaps he has come to tell us 
that it will be delayed again.
    It is more than that.
    Peranor glanced over impatiently at the vespel coming 
towards him, forcing her to see as well the sheathed 
claws, the bowed head, the expression, almost humble, 
which was unheard of for a vespel facing Elwens. They were 
superior and knew it. Nothing's wrong. I wouldn't have 
thought that one would brave the scent of blood in 
devotion to duty, but I've never been in a Pen while a 
messenger from the Kaleina tried to find me.
    "Something is wrong," said Beldana aloud, and stepping 
in front of him, she drew the sword from its sheath. It 
glowed a brilliant white a moment later, and she closed 
her eyes as she fell into communication with the Kaleina.
    Peranor smiled apologetically at the messenger as he 
came closer. "I'm sorry. It seems that my companion thinks 
you're a danger. Just to get this done as quickly as 
possible, could you tell her that you're not?"
    The messenger shrugged back his robe, presumably to 
free his hands to make a friendly gesture. Peranor was not 
at all prepared for the sight of what was bound to his 
body beneath the robe.
    It was not a sword or a whip- no vespel who was not 
part of the Bashisani would carry either- but it looked 
like one. It was long and silver and sharp-edged, and drew 
silvery blood where it clung to the fur and dug through. 
Peranor wrinkled his nose, smelling that blood. At least 
it explained why the vespel would be willing to brave the 
Pens. He didn't mind the smell of his own blood; he 
wouldn't mind the smell of red blood of animals, then.
    The vespel nodded to the sunset Elwen. "You are the 
Lord Peranor Lightfoot?"
    "So called." Peranor was uncomfortable with any title, 
except the ones that he chose to give other people because 
he thought they deserved them.
    "Then I have brought my message to the right place."
    Peranor shot a defiant glance at Beldana, but her head 
was still bowed, and she was lost in the link to the 
vespel rulers. That was the only time that she succeeded 
in shutting him out.
    "I shall be pleased to receive your message-"
    He had only just turned back when the silver whip 
lashed out, cutting across his shoulders like lightning as 
he ducked. He wove an illusion of himself bleeding on the 
ground, and flew up behind it, still gasping with shock. 
Using his magic had been purely instinctive. He did not 
know what was happening.
    The vespel hit out at the illusion again, and nothing 
happened, of course. The whip went through and struck the 
crystal a ringing blow that Peranor's faked gasps and sobs 
could not hide. He knew it was not real in an instant, and 
turned to look up for the real one.
    Peranor met his gaze steadily. He had heard reports of 
this. The vespels were going mad, a few of them, thinking 
of all the people who were going to die in the war. One of 
them had probably heard that he had killed in the battle 
of Shadowtown, and had come to settle scores for those who 
lay dead.
    Beldana tore herself free from the link with a cry, 
and wheeled on the vespel with her sword drawn and an open 
look of murder in her eyes. Peranor was shocked. He had 
never seen her look that way before. 
    "Beldana, no!"
    The vespel never looked away from him, but she stared 
up at him in shock. Then her eyes narrowed, and they held 
a silent conversation in less time than it took the vespel 
to prepare to swing the whip upwards at the flying viaquia 
once more.
    No. I won't let him kill you.
    He's mad, he's terrified. He doesn't mean to strike 
out at me.
    He wants you dead.
    But it's not his fault.
    Save it for someone who cares about why you're 
bleeding, and not just that you're bleeding. 
    Beldana! You are sworn to only kill the enemies of the 
Defense, especially with that-
    She ignored him, turning to face the vespel. Her long 
red hair snapped behind her like the whip. Her mouth was 
open, the long fangs that, like Peranor's, stood out 
distinct from the rest of her teeth, bared. She was 
snarling without breath, furious, angry, ready to kill out 
of rage. In Shadowtown she had been a cool killer, knowing 
what she was doing and why she was doing it. Here, she was 
gone into the fury.
    Peranor did the only thing he could. Sliding down a 
few inches in the air, he lashed out and caught the vespel 
on the chin with his boot. 
    The vespel flew over backwards, the whip trembling 
from his hands. Peranor landed and stood over the weapon 
before the man could recover it, his hands and legs 
shaking. He had not wanted to hurt the vespel at all, but 
he would do it if doing it meant saving the man's life.
    "Per!"
    He looked up to see her coming towards him, movements 
so quick that he would not have believed it if he hadn't 
seen it. She seized him and whirled him around, pulling 
him tight against her, to where he could feel the rapid 
beat of her heart, as well as his own, and could feel that 
she was hurt, as well as him.
    It felt good to have something to do, something like 
this. Peranor wrapped his arms around her in return and 
murmured comfort, let her feel that he was still alive. He 
looked over once, but the vespel was lying on the ground, 
clawed hands covering his face, sobbing and rocking back 
and forth.
    He could have stayed like that for some time, but 
Beldana shifted, and found just the wrong place, 
unfortunately. Her hand came down on the blood that 
striped his shoulder, and he hissed in pain without 
thinking about it.
    "Peranor," she said. "You should have told me about 
that at once."
    "You can't feel it, then?"
    "Not right now," she said, head buried in his 
shoulder. "The shock and the relief are too great. But 
sooner or later I would have found it, and then I would 
have been more angry about it than I am now."
    "You're not very angry."
    "No."
    They embraced for a few moments longer, and then 
Beldana stepped back and looked down on the sobbing vespel 
with disgust. "He needs to be brought in at once." She 
glanced sideways at Peranor. "The Kaleina said they did 
not send a messenger."
    "We should get him to the other refugees as soon as we 
can," Peranor agreed.
    "No, Per. To prison."
    "He's mad, sick. Beldana," he said softly, seeing her 
hesitate. "Prison won't help him."
    If she had influence over him- if she had made him see 
that he would have to accept killing, and that his new 
life as a Bashisan was likely- then he had influence over 
her as well. He could make her, though not often, feel 
mercy and compassion and understand the need that some 
people had for these simple blessings, even those who had 
broken the laws of the Defense. She nodded, at last, and 
then pointed to the silver whip.
    "What about that?"
    "I don't know-"
    Peranor stopped as he felt a breeze brush his face, 
and wondered where he had smelled the scent of flowers 
that it bore before. By the time he had recognized it, it 
was already too late.
    The wild magic that favored him, or had once favored 
him, or favored him sometimes, or whatever the true story 
really was, concentrated in the cut on his shoulders. He 
could feel it rooting about in his blood, as if searching 
for something, and then something fell to the ground 
behind him, smelling like cold blood. Almost afraid to see 
what it was, Peranor turned to see.
    It was a snake as silver as the whip. It hissed at him 
once, then dissolved into a puddle that smelled just like 
what it was, the venom that had been on the end of the 
whip and entered his blood.
    "Well," said Beldana hollowly after a moment, "do you 
still agree that he was mad and sick and didn't know what 
he was doing?"
    "No," said Peranor, trying to find an explanation of 
the sickness that would lead a vespel to put venom on the 
end of a whip and come after him as if he was the enemy. 
He could find none. "Let's take him to prison, then." He 
stooped to gather one of the vespel's legs, grieving and 
wishing that he had just flown away and hadn't been so 
stupid as to wound him or let the man wound Peranor.
    But he couldn't think of what might have been. He had 
to do the best he could with what he had.
----------------------------------------------------------
    "We still have a few minutes before sunset," said 
Beldana. Knowing that he liked to watch sunset over the 
Sea of Sparks, she usually tried to get them back to her 
house, which had a good view of it, before then. "Do you 
want to take one more look at the market?"
    Peranor gave her a grateful look. If she wouldn't 
mind...
    Of course not.
    He nodded, and then launched himself into the air. 
Beldana fogged into a cloud of darkness and drifted along 
behind. The market was so many branches below them at this 
point that it was easier just to fly to it instead of 
walking along all the various great branches that wandered 
and twisted before leading to it. 
    They landed at the outskirts- they could not find 
space to come down anywhere instead it- and began fighting 
their way towards the center.
    Peranor sniffed, then sneezed. The vespels refused to 
do business in walls, partially on the ground that they 
wanted to be able to see the sun they loved and the sky 
they had come from beyond, and partially because many of 
the foods they sold would stink up a shop. Peranor could 
believe it. He was almost choked by the scents of meat and 
fruit from here.
    However, they were not going to the food stalls, thank 
the stars, and Beldana bore away from them and toward the 
far street on the right side of the market that she knew 
he loved. Peranor followed obediently, now and then 
turning around to take everything in. He couldn't help 
looking, even if most of the foods they sold here would be 
of no use or taste to him.
    Beldana told him the names of things or races of 
people as his eyes swept past them. There was meat from 
the daranda, which had to be imported; the vespels had 
tried again and again to raise the cattle-like beasts on 
the island, and each time they died from the sulfur that 
rose from the Sea of Sparks. Crystals harvested living 
from the Tree, in hopes that someone might be able to make 
one grow somewhere else, a feat that had so far also 
proven impossible. Here were rheeth, wind Elwens with pale 
skin and long white wings, clustered so thickly about a 
stall that they could not see what it was selling. Here 
were a few land Elwens, looking strange without the normal 
arrogant expressions of their kind, dickering over some of 
the fruit that a vespel woman was selling. Here was-
    Peranor stopped, and ahead of him Beldana stopped as 
well. She came back, and together they stared in silence 
at a curalli, like one of those they had fought in 
Shadowtown. He glanced calmly at them and went back to the 
seemingly very complicated work he was doing.
    His hands were dancing over a molten puddle of a metal 
that Peranor had never seen before, heating it now and 
then with little flashes of lightning that burned out of 
his palms. Shadowed Elwens could wield lightning, Peranor 
had heard. The dark silver face was creased in 
concentration, and the dark hair that fell over the dark 
eyes was unkempt, as if he had been working at this pace 
and with this concentration for some time. Yes, it was a 
curalli.
    Here, as bold as you please, in the middle of Esalo.
    Peranor felt his heart beat faster, and anger flowed 
back and forth between him and Beldana as both of them 
remembered a young vespel woman they had rescued from 
curalli torture. She had already been given a poison that 
made sure she died, even though they had rescued her. It 
had been one of the most heartbreaking things that Peranor 
had ever seen. 
    That was the action of the curalli. That was what the 
shadowed Elwens were, what evil they were capable of.
    And now here, as bold as you please-
    Beldana stalked towards the curalli, back stiff and 
radiating anger. The man glanced up at her once and went 
back to his work. Peranor squinted, but could not make out 
what he was doing. Sculpting something, it appeared, as if 
one could do that with lightning. As if shadowed Elwens 
were capable of creating beauty.
    "Yes, my lady?" he said.
    "What are you doing here?" said Beldana in a tight 
voice. She clenched her fists. Peranor could not actually 
see that from the angle he was standing at, but he could 
feel her nails digging into her palms.
    "I live here."
    Beldana's mouth sagged open. "You belong beyond the 
borders of the Defense with the rest of your people," she 
said at last.
    "I left them." The sculpture seemed to be finished. 
The curalli picked it up and turned it around. It was made 
of a metal as dark silver as his skin, and was a mess of 
twisting patterns- no, not patterns, for there was no 
order in the thing- a mess of twisting lines and loops 
that made Peranor queasy to look out, as it sometimes made 
him queasy to look into fire, with its constant shift of 
shapes and colors.
    "Why?"
    "I wanted to live and work here," said the curalli, 
with a disinterested glance in her direction as he put the 
sculpture down in another corner of his shop. "Here, the 
heart of the world that sends the blood to farthest 
veins." It was a quote that Beldana had read in a vespel 
poem the night before.
    "You are well-read for a killer and a murderer," she 
said at last.
    "I am no longer that."
    "Why? Why would you want to live in the center of the 
city, in a place where you know that you would be hated?"
    "To make money." The curalli never lost his calm, but 
now there was an exaggerated patience in his voice, as if 
he knew that Beldana was a child or wasn't very good at 
understanding things and was slowing the pace and the 
concepts down for her.
    "And the vespels permit this?"
    The curalli shrugged. "They like to have me around. It 
gives them someone to despise." His eyes raked her. "I 
would think that you would know more about that than I 
would, given your race. Your people were greatly feared 
and hated in the old world before the Change, soul-eater."
    "I have taken myself apart from them. I no longer eat 
souls save in the defense of the Defense."
    "And I no longer kill save if someone is threatening 
my life or my wares."
    "People who are not Bashisani are not permitted to 
carry swords or other blades, or indeed to bear weapons of 
any kind," said Beldana sternly, seeming to be coming back 
to herself. "And you should know that your presence here 
is an offense, one that I am tempted to end here and now 
by reporting you."
    "The Kaleina is very busy. I doubt they'd listen to 
you, or do anything about it if they did bother to 
listen." The curalli picked up a flat sheet of the dark 
silver metal and regarded it thoughtfully.
    "Do you have weapons?"
    "Of course." The curalli lifted his palms, and 
lightning flared from them.
    "Besides that?"
    "No."
    "I don't believe you."
    "Then what's the point of asking me?"
    Despite himself, despite the rage that he could feel 
from Beldana and the fact that he had seen curalli do 
terrible things only two dances ago, Peranor felt a quiver 
of amusement beginning to travel through him. He couldn't 
help it. The curalli so obviously didn't care about 
Beldana and what she could do, when almost everyone else 
would have been terrified-
    Her head whipped around.
    You think this is funny? she asked in outrage, in 
their silent language.
    Only in the way that he's reacting to it, came 
Peranor's quiet and sincere response. Not in what you are 
doing.
    "It is true," said the curalli, oblivious to the 
conversation, as of course anyone outside their bond would 
have to be. "I am a citizen of Esalo. I have the papers to 
prove it, if you really need to see them." He glanced at 
her. "If they'll let a darkness Elwen in, they'll let 
anyone in. Your people are confined to Preserves as much 
as mine are. My name is Tarlinian Durillo, by the way. 
Would you like to buy something from me?"
    She sputtered at him, and then turned her back 
determinedly and angrily.
    Tarlinian shrugged at her and went back to molding his 
metal. Peranor stepped close and stared. The curalli 
looked back at him with eyes that, Peranor could see now, 
were not completely dark. They did have a faint tinge of 
blue in them, or perhaps cobalt or azure. Evening blue or 
royal blue. Night sapphire.
    "Did you want to see something?"
    Peranor shook his head. "Not particularly. But I'm an 
illusionist myself. I always have an interest in seeing 
how art is done."
    Tarlinian's face changed a little. "And what is your 
name?"
    "Peranor Lightfoot. This is my companion, the Lady 
Beldana Fireseeker." He gestured at her, and could feel 
her bristle.
    Companion?
    Do you have a better word for it?
    Tarlinian tilted his head, his face not changing any 
more, but his tone a little more interested than it had 
been. "I'd heard of you. Aren't you supposed to be in the 
Crystal Court by now, being honored for killing hundreds 
of my people?"
    "I didn't kill anyone."
    Tarlinian shook his head. "I could feel your anger- 
and hers- when you saw me. You had something to do with 
shadowed Elwens, don't tell me you didn't."
    Beldana wanted to say something, but when Peranor 
glanced at her, he saw that by her narrowed eyes and set 
chin that she didn't seem to think it was the right time. 
He shrugged and took up the slack in the conversation for 
her. "I didn't kill anyone. I did defend vespel lives from 
your people, as she did."
    "Vespels?"
    "Yes." Peranor regarded him steadily. "Are you one of 
the people who think that Elwens are better than vespels?"
    "Yes."
    No apology. Peranor blinked. Even the rebels had been 
more adamant about it than this. Tarlinian just made it 
sound as if, of course, everyone knew that Elwens were 
more important than vespels, and effort should be expended 
to save Elwen lives in place of vespels, and that was all 
there was to say about it.
    "At least you're an honest bastard," said Beldana. She 
had calmed down a little, but her anger still simmered in 
the back of her mind like the fire that was necessary to 
steam idora meat. "But why do you want to live and work 
here, if you hate them so much?"
    "There is a difference between hating them and 
despising them. And I told you why I wanted to live and 
work here: to make money. Is she this slow to notice 
things or hear others' words all the time?" he added to 
Peranor.
    Peranor sighed as he felt the banking fire building 
again. "She doesn't like your motivation. She's a 
Bashisan."
    "Honor, nobility, all that rezt?"
    "Yes."
    Peranor was not sure from which of their throats that 
last word had come. It sounded as if it could have been 
either; he was certain that they were both angry enough 
that it could have come from either one.
    Tarlinian shrugged, as if it just did not interest him 
very much. "As you say. I have no quarrel with the way 
that people want to spend their lives. You know what I 
believe now, and I know what you believe, and I think that 
makes us even. I will not demand any kind of a reckoning 
from you, and I do not think that you have the right to 
condemn me for deeds that my people did dances ago and 
hundreds of miles away. What-"
    He cut off suddenly, staring intently at Peranor. 
Peranor was barely aware of Beldana shifting her body to 
get in front of him and protect him from the curalli's 
stare, so intense was it. He felt as if he could not get 
away from it or hide from it, in any case. 
    "What is it?"
    "Something about it-"
    Tarlinian leaned forward and half-spread his hands, as 
if Peranor was a puddle of metal that he was going to work 
up a sculpture from. Little flashes of lightning darted 
back and forth between his fingers.
    Meanwhile, Beldana and Peranor waged a silent argument 
about whether or not to attack.
    Now.
    Not now.
    Why not? I don't think that we'll have a better 
opportunity.
    I want to see what he does first, what he thinks it is 
about me that he wants to examine.
    Tarlinian's face shifted and softened. "I thought so," 
he said, sitting back on his heels and blinking at 
Peranor. "It was said that my ancestors can feel destiny- 
magic. I have not had cause to use the ability very often, 
but I can feel it around the Kaleina. You are the first 
Elwen I have felt it around."
    "I reject destiny. I think that I want nothing to do 
with it."
    "So said Maruss Freewind, and he wound up serving its 
purpose."
    "Why do you care?"
    "If you're going to disrupt Esalo and the Defense, I 
would want to know, so I could leave Esalo in time," said 
Tarlinian with a shrug, turning to face the metal sheet in 
front of him again. The lightning flashed out and played 
along it like a snake.
    Peranor watched it for a moment, then asked, 
remembering that Beldana had said curalli were experts 
with poisons, "What kind of poison could be extracted by 
the wild magic in the form of a snake?"
    "What?" Tarlinian stared at him.
    "I ask because a vespel attacked me with a whip 
earlier today and the wild magic extracted the poison in 
the form of a serpent."
    "What color?"
    "Silver."
    "Sorry. I've never heard of that kind of venom. Or of 
the wild magic helping someone, other than the Lord of 
Summerfire," he added, making a sign with his fingers that 
was probably meant to ward off the evil that he would have 
incurred by speaking that name. "Come back and talk to me 
again, though. I would love to talk to a fellow artist who 
has destiny-magic and the favor of the wild magic."
    "Of course."
    Beldana managed to wait until they were about twenty 
feet from the booth before she exploded in a roar of rush 
and outrage that swept through Peranor's mind and 
triumphantly back again.
    "You are going to go back and see him?"
    "Why not? He's interesting. He's not like the other 
curalli that we met in Shadowtown," said Peranor. "He's an 
artist."
    "When you saw him, you were ready to kill him."
    "I didn't know him then."
    She stared at him, then smiled a little, seeming 
almost helpless to resist the smile. "And you think that 
you do now?"
    "Something about him, anyway."
    "Well, something about him disturbs me," said Beldana 
flatly. "I don't know what. I don't know why. I do know 
that I don't really want you to see him again. Please 
don't. Promise me."
    "Until you can figure out what it is that disturbs you 
about him. No longer."
    "All right."
    They drifted through the market, no longer quite as 
companionable as before, but still able to enjoy each 
other's company quietly that had never been usual for 
Beldana and had been unusual for years in Peranor's. This 
was the way it should be, Peranor thought, half-closing 
his eyes and letting himself drift. He was in the largest 
city of the world, in the heart of the Defense, and 
surrounded by beauty even if the vespels were preparing 
for war. And yet, it felt as if he was flying over some 
far mountaintop, with someone he trusted even more than 
Lelxi at his side.
    No. He had never trusted Lelxi. He had thought that he 
loved her, but her cruelty and pronounced need to play 
practical jokes meant that he never really trusted her.
    Then why had he thought that he loved her?
    Because-
    And then through his mind came the flash of why, the 
mornings and nights they had spent together, the flash of 
her mind and of bodies entangling in a rich and soft bed, 
the times when she seemed to understand him better than 
anyone else in the world, even when she mocked him, and 
the morning when she had told him something shocking in a 
soft voice and then proceeded to do it.
    In a moment, he realized that Beldana was feeling and 
seeing these things as well, and he shut off the storm as 
humiliation flowed through him. He met her eyes, his face 
deep purple, and saw her smiling calmly.
    "I understand better now," she said. "That was the 
only reason that I was encouraging you to think about her. 
I wanted to understand."
    "You were encouraging-"
    "Yes."
    Peranor drew a breath. That was frightening, to think 
that he could no longer distinguish the voices of their 
thoughts from one another.
    "All right," he said at last. "But do warn me the next 
time you want to think about something like that. I would 
be perfectly willing to help if you would just tell me." 
It came out a little more snappishly than he would have 
liked, but Beldana nodded and smiled.
    "I will."
    Peranor let his eyes return to the street in front of 
him, and smiled in relief as he found something to 
distract him. "There it is!" He sprinted a step forwards, 
and let one hand slide up the side of the building in a 
caress that made Beldana grin at him and flash some 
thoughts that he didn't really want to think about into 
his head.
    "Yes, that's it," was all that the zorkro chose to say 
aloud.
    "That" was a smooth building that had been grown from 
the living crystal, a beautiful small shop that was almost 
bare on the inside. Not only had it been allowed to grow 
without embellishments, but no one was in the shop at 
present, and the owner had removed all the wares. It was 
for sale now, and every contract so far had been rejected 
by the Kaleina as bad for the health of the shop and the 
city as a whole.
    It was perfectly made for illusions. Peranor wanted 
more than anything else to have a shop here, one where he 
could display finished work and receive commissions and, 
in general, be an illusionist instead of the Bashisan that 
it seemed more and more likely he would become.
    "What is the price this dance?" asked Beldana softly, 
after a moment of letting him worship and almost commune 
with the shop in silence.
    "Eight hundred silvers," said Peranor reluctantly, 
pulling his hand back.
    "At least apply to the Kaleina. If they think you 
would be a good choice for the city, they would let you 
have the shop and pay it off little by little. You 
couldn't have it without their permission and approval of 
the sale in any case."
    Peranor glanced at her. "I know that. But I'd feel 
ridiculous going to the Court before we're strictly 
invited into the presence of the Kaleina, and I want to 
pay for it whole."
    "Bashisani don't get paid that much, believe me."
    Peranor shrugged and glanced back at the shop. "Anyone 
can dream."
    His words had more than one meaning, and Beldana 
caught the second at once. She caught him by the shoulder 
and pulled him around to face her. "If you don't want to 
do this, Per-"
    "No," he said. "I know that I have to. My illusion 
gifts, my bond with you, my apparent talent for being the 
one who can tell people what to do in a situation that 
they've never encountered before... all of those argue 
that I should be in the Bashisani."
    "But it is not what you want with your heart."
    "If I had what I wanted with my heart, I would never 
have met you. I would be back in Leecirna, still an 
illusionist, and the rebellion in that city would never 
have happened."
    "Then I cannot pretend to be unhappy that you do not 
have it." She closed her eyes and bowed her head to rest 
on his shoulder.
    Peranor held her close and smoothed down her hair. 
This he could do, he thought. He could comfort, he could 
soothe, he could help her. So long as no one ever asked 
him to do anything more-
    Like what?
    At least this time he could distinguish the voice of 
her thoughts. He replied carefully, aloud but murmuring 
the words into her ear so that no one else could hear 
them. "I don't want to do something that I might fail at."
    "Such as?"
    "Such as becoming a fighter," he said. "Such as having 
to fight at your side in battle. Such as becoming your 
lover." He drew back and held her eyes, and ignored the 
images in his mind. "I thought that I was in love with 
someone once, in the sense that lovers are, and I was 
wrong. If I could mistake what I felt for Lelxi as love, 
what might happen with us?"
    She might have scoffed, laughed, but she could feel 
the very real fear in his heart and knew that mere words 
would not be enough to soothe it.
    "I don't know what to tell you," she said, gripping 
his hand and squeezing it. "It doesn't happen all the 
time. Vespel bonds are closer than ours, and not all of 
them are lovers. They manage the strong feelings in other 
words. We may do the same?"
    "May?"
    "I don't know what will fall out, Peranor. I can tell 
you that I don't really plan to fight where the bond takes 
us, no matter what happens."
    "All right- if you're sure."
    "Promise me that you won't fight it either."
    "Even if I think that the bond is making a mistake? 
Even if I think that I don't feel enough for you to want 
to marry you?"
    "I thought we were speaking about becoming lovers."
    "I would want to marry you eventually."
    Beldana's eyes filled with tears, but she remembered 
that he had wanted to marry Lelxi as well. Her reply was 
cautious. "If that happens, it happens. If not, don't 
worry about it."
    "I do trust the bond." Peranor let his head rest on 
her shoulder. She was slightly taller than he was, and at 
times like this he appreciated the fact. "But- sometimes 
it's very hard to believe that I should trust it as far as 
this."
    "I know. Try to be as patient as you can."
    "I will."
    They stood like that a few moments more, all the 
sounds of the city literally fading away. They were so 
wrapped up in each other that neither noticed the drifting 
cloud of light until it was too late.
    "Per!"
    Peranor hardly knew anything. He was lost in the 
maelstrom of Beldana's terror for him and his own pain as 
he was literally ripped from her arms and hurled almost 
half the length of the road. He scrambled to find 
something to cling onto, something that was not emotion or 
light-
    He screamed. The light was burning him, clinging to 
him and tearing at his skin like the claws of thousands of 
tiny animals. He tried to fight it, and it seemed that it 
only became stronger.
    Per!
    Beldana flung her strength after him, and wrapped him 
close in a cocoon that was mostly made up of herself. Her 
strength, her honor, her truth, her dedication to the 
Defense-
    It let him go.
    Peranor fell to the ground and leaned there on his 
knees, dazed and breathless and fighting the urge to 
vomit. Then Beldana's arms came around him, tight and 
strong and so firm that he did want to throw up, only she 
wouldn't let him.
    "What was that?" he managed to ask at last. His voice 
sounded raw, and he realized that he must have been 
screaming. For some reason, he couldn't remember anything 
of what he had cried out.
    "I'm sorry." Beldana stroked his hair gently. "The 
Tree produces them at times. They attack certain people- 
no one knows why. Sometimes they wound, sometimes they 
kill. This one doesn't seem to have marked you that much." 
Frowning, she continued her examination, even though she 
would have felt any wound that he had suffered, beyond the 
obvious pain and shock, at once through the bond. Peranor 
knew that she just wanted an excuse to touch him a little 
further, to reassure herself that he was indeed what he 
looked like.
    "I'm all right," he said. "You saved my life, though. 
I could feel it. It wanted to kill me. It would have if 
you weren't there."
    "It didn't want to kill you, Per," she said patiently 
as she helped him back to his feet. "They don't have any 
intelligence, much less emotion. It probably seemed like 
that in the midst of your shock, but-"
    "I could feel it."
    "I didn't."
    That led to another mild argument as they flew home, 
and by the time they reached home, they were just in time 
to watch the sunset. Peranor leaned back and let her serve 
the wine this time- she said his hands were shaking so 
much that he would drop the delicate glasses- and then 
drank as much as he could in one gulp. He gasped at once 
and began coughing and choking.
    "Sorry," said Beldana as she took the chair beside 
him. "It's a little stronger than usual. I thought that 
maybe we needed it." She took a healthy gulp of her own, 
not coughing or choking. Peranor gave her a dirty look and 
sipped his own again, more slowly.
    "I'm sorry," he said then. "I must have been deeply in 
thought, or I should have sensed the direction of your 
thoughts."
    "There's still a lot that we need to think of and 
accept about this bond," said Beldana softly, reaching out 
to run a hand down her arm. Peranor felt it as if was his 
own arm, soft, gentle, a caress.
    "Yes, there is," he said.
    They were silent then, watching the sunset and keeping 
their thoughts from each other as much as they could, 
silently and immediately agreeing on the need for privacy. 
Peranor could feel her mind racing, but that was because 
of his telepathic gift, not because of the unique bond 
that they shared. He was morbidly certain it was because 
of him and the nearness he had had to death two separate 
times today.
    She probably thinks they were assassination attempts 
or something ridiculous like that.
    Well, they weren't. Peranor wasn't important enough to 
anyone, hero of Shadowtown or no, for someone to go to the 
trouble and expense of arranging something like that. The 
clouds of light attacked people all the time, Beldana had 
said. And that vespel who had swung the whip couldn't 
remember doing it- almost a sure sign that he had been mad 
when he did it.
    He had nearly died twice today, but he was all right 
now. He thought about trying to convey that with a touch 
or thought, and then calmed himself. It wasn't best to 
think about what she was thinking about when she didn't 
want to specifically tell him. It was her business, and he 
had more than enough to keep him occupied.
    Like Lelxi.
    He still did not understand that. Why didn't she want 
to see him again, even as a friend? She had been friendly 
and warm in Shadowtown, even apparently jealous of the 
bond that he had with Beldana. And then they were 
separated during the silverpathing to Esalo, she going on 
and he becoming stranded in a kind of strange Silver World 
from which Beldana had to rescue him.
    And it was as if years had passed for Lelxi, changing 
and altering her perspective.
    What had happened?
    Taken by those thoughts, Peranor almost missed the 
bloom of the colors to the west. It would have been a 
shame, for this sunset was one of the more spectacular 
that he had ever seen. He sat up, breath catching in his 
throat, and motioned Beldana to look. She glanced at him 
and then did so.
    She gasped softly, as well, the sound moving Peranor's 
throat as if he had uttered it.
    Ahead of them and in the west- of course- the red-gold 
lava that made up the Sea of Sparks was shifting and 
altering to a burning fire of orange and scarlet as the 
sun slid down. More than that, the sky was purple, the sun 
almost a lost red spark in the dusky immensity of it. And 
green and pink flared around the clouds that gleamed 
around the edges of it, as if not sure if they were 
welcome guests at the feast.
    Peranor set aside the wineglass and rose to his feet, 
hands outstretched. It might be dangerous- he had 
attracted the notice of Dermand, the Sunset Lord, before, 
and it had been anything but pleasant- but he felt that he 
had to do something to answer that sunset, to greet it and 
thank it for showering such light upon them.
    His hands danced, and illusion raced into being, a 
flower that had all the colors of the sunset in it. He 
held it up, aligning and squinting.
    Perfect. The red heart of it matched the position of 
the sun. The petals were purple, tipped with pink and 
green, and the stem was red-gold, shading gradually from 
the purple in a gradation that should not have appeared 
natural but somehow did. Peranor gazed on it with pride. 
That was one of the best illusions that he had ever done, 
if he did say so himself.
    "It is."
    Peranor started. He had almost forgotten that he had 
an audience. He smiled into her shining eyes as he saw 
that she was not angry that he had forgotten her, though.
    "Thank you," he said, and then blew the flower gently 
into the west.
    Held together by his will, it drifted around on a 
breeze that rose from the Mirar'Dermaproni, the Sea of 
Sparks, and then came to rest on the surface of the lava. 
Peranor let it break apart, the light slipping under the 
surface of the lava as if swallowed. 
    Or drowned.
    The way that the sun slowly drowned itself in the lava 
sea, as they watched. The red and purple light gleamed 
starkly on the crystal and the edge of the black basalt 
isle for a while, and then departed. Oddly enough, the 
green and pink were the last to go, trailing meekly behind 
the other colors. 
    When they were gone, Beldana leaned over and rested 
her head on Peranor's shoulder. It was usually the other 
way around, since she was the taller, but at the moment 
Peranor wouldn't have sacrificed the gesture for the sake 
of comfort. He knew what it meant, without being able to 
put what it meant into words.




                        Chapter 2
                 In The Court Of Crystal
    "Coming before an enemy monarch makes no difference in 
the rules of courtesy."
    -Attributed to Elshar, Lord of Deathwield and Lord of 
the Churni.

    "I'm sorry. You cannot enter yet."
    "Why not?" said Beldana, with an impatience that 
Peranor had never seen her display before. "We have waited 
time and again for this ridiculous restriction on when we 
may visit the Court lifted. We have been delayed four 
times. We want to see the Kaleina, and then learn of our 
new duties."
    The Bashisan in front of them shook his head. "What do 
you mean?"
    Peranor told Beldana silently not to tell him 
anything. Beldana treated it as a suggestion. This was one 
of her own, a fellow Bashisan- soon to be one of Peranor's 
own, as well. The news might earn them respect and 
admiration ahead of time, and the Bashisani were so 
stubborn and resistant to outsiders entering their ranks 
that every little bit might help. 
    You didn't tell me that before.
    What need was there for it?
    Peranor rolled his eyes and kept silent as Beldana 
amused herself and the guard to the door of the Court both 
by telling the story of Shadowtown yet again, as well as 
something of what they could do. She wouldn't recite 
everything, of course. The man was land Elwen. For all 
they knew, he could be part of the enemy, a spy from the 
rebel armies.
    Peranor snorted back at that. The vespels could read 
minds. They would never allow someone who was a spy so 
close to them.
    Beldana silently accused him of ruining her fun and 
sulked at him for a moment before returning her attention 
to the undeniably fascinated guard.
    "...and so, you see, we were told that our gift could 
be of immense value to the Defense. And yet we have been 
kept waiting, even though the Kaleina wanted to see us at 
once at first, without even the six-day waiting period. It 
is becoming annoying."
    "That is unusual," said the guard, rubbing his chin. 
"Or it would be, if it were another time but the present."
    "What do you mean?"
    "There has been talk of war from every quadrant." The 
guard smiled at them sympathetically. "I am sorry they 
couldn't see you at once, but perhaps you can understand 
why they couldn't."
    "What have you heard?" In a moment, the playful side 
of Beldana that Peranor rarely got to either see or feel 
was gone. She was a Bashisan, a guardian of the peace, and 
she wanted to hear if there was war threatening her peace 
and what she could do about it if there was.
    "That the rebels are going to march on Esalo, that 
they are sneaking off the Preserves, that they are 
presenting demands to the Defense, that they don't mean to 
do anything but cause a little minor trouble to annoy and 
harass the Kaleina." The man shrugged. "All of which means 
nothing more substantial than the wind blowing a rose 
petal, as you know as well as I."
    "Perhaps," said Beldana, her brow furrowed. "And what 
is being done about this?"
    "We are preparing for war, of course."
    "I have seen no signs of it."
    "Only the Bashisani currently on duty are being told 
what to do. The Kaleina plans to hold the others in 
reserve in case the rumors of the rebels' boldness are 
true and they really do plan to attack Esalo itself."
    "You don't believe that."
    "It doesn't really matter what I believe or what I 
don't. I do believe that the Kaleina takes it seriously 
enough to keep some Bashisani- like you- in reserve. 
Perhaps they are only calling you in today to tell you 
your duties."
    Beldana nodded thoughtfully. Peranor took the moment 
to step into the conversation. "My lord, what is your 
name?"
    "Briery," he said. "Briery Ravenshadow. And no title, 
please, as I hope you would not expect me to call you by 
one. If we are to be comrades in war, it would be foolish 
to have such things as this come between us."
    Peranor nodded, caught by something that he could 
almost remember, but not quite. "Ravenshadow. Isn't that 
an unusual last name?" Even more among the vespels than 
the Elwens, who had none on the world they had come from, 
the raven was a symbol of death and battle, coming to eat 
the dead when the war was done. It was unusual for any 
Elwen who served them to have a name like that, or, at the 
very least, to retain it once he had begun to serve the 
vespels.
    Briery reached beneath his tunic and drew out a small 
feather carved of onyx. "I serve the Goddess Tirosina as 
well as the vespels. My family has done both for 
generations, and there has never been a problem."
    Peranor nodded. He was still annoyed by whatever vague 
remembrance the name had stirred in his mind, but it was 
probably nothing. Just too much consciousness of ill omen, 
or superstition. "Thank you for explaining. This days, 
things I don't understand, especially in the heart of the 
Defense- trouble me."
    "Really?"
    Beldana had not told that part of the story; it was 
his to tell, at least in the eyes of someone who only knew 
as much about them as they hold told this man. But Peranor 
shifted to the side so that his arm brushed Beldana's, and 
asked without words if she really wanted this man to know. 
He could keep it secret if the roused pain would prove too 
much for her to deal with.
    No, Per, she said softly. This was yours before I came 
into your life. Just as I would not share my stories 
without anyone else without a choice, anything that 
happened to me before I met you, this is yours.
    Peranor nodded in relief and gratitude- he had hoped 
that she would feel that way, but had to admit that he 
hadn't been sure- and then fixed his eyes on Briery. "I 
was caught up in the rebellion in Leecirna. Hundreds died, 
vespels as well as Elwens. Elwens as well as vespels, I 
should have said. The rebels pretended to be pure in their 
cause, to hate the Defense, and yet they killed their own 
people as well. Since then, I have tried to do my best to 
repay the vespels for the things they have done for my all 
my life. That is why I want to become a Bashisan." That 
was the first time he had ever confessed that desire, 
aloud or silently, and he felt Beldana start a little in 
surprise. "That is why unusual things in the heart of the 
Defense, close to the Kaleina and those who help to keep 
the Defense alive, make me uneasy."
    Briery nodded after a moment, his eyes intent on 
Peranor's face and more than a little impressed. "I have 
heard others speak before of what the Defense has done for 
them, but none so eloquently as you have," he said, with a 
short dip of his head. "Be assured, you have my word that 
I will tell you of anything unusual that happens at once."
    "Thank you." Peranor had the vague feeling that he 
should be embarrassed at his outburst, his heartfelt, 
passionate words. But Beldana took his arm and shook her 
head at him.
    That is only me. I wouldn't have done anything like 
that. I am more reserved than that. But from you- all it 
did was convince him of your sincerity.
    He needed to be convinced?
    Beldana laughed silently, and then they looked about 
as the door on the far side of the room, the door that led 
to the Crystal Court, began to open.
    They were near the heart of the great Tree, the point 
in the trunk where all the branches met, but not quite in 
it. The Court was there. They stood on the inside of one 
of the great branches, though, and Peranor could feel the 
living crystal almost surging under his feet, the life and 
wild magic leaping through it. He was normally 
uncomfortable with it. Now it just made him feel as if 
even the light and magic surrounding them was going 
somewhere else, while he was left here, tense and 
frustrated. 
    He met Beldana's eye from the corner of his own, and 
smiled a little as she flushed and looked away in 
embarrassment.
    That was her impatience, not his.
    He thought that they might finally be about to enter. 
Briery bowed, and remained in that position, only knocking 
on the backs of their knees with his sheathed sword in 
signal to bow as well.
    It was a single vespel woman who emerged from the 
door, though, not the Kaleina, as Peranor had half- 
expected. She blinked at them as if counting their numbers 
and puzzled to find them greater than when she had left. 
Then she shrugged and forged bravely ahead.
    "The Kaleina wants to see the heroes of Shadowtown. 
Right now."
    Beldana stepped forward, and the woman's violet eyes 
blinked. "But-"
    "A Bashisan," said Beldana. Her voice was cool, and 
Peranor, seeing through her eyes, saw the woman surrounded 
by the shimmering film that meant she disgusted Beldana. 
"And not even a vespel. My, my. I think that you will have 
to accept it."
    "Someday, Beldana Fireseeker-"
    Peranor could hear, through Beldana's ears, the sounds 
of Briery tensing behind them. He didn't like the idea of 
forcing the guard to choose between duty and loyalty to 
comrades, and he nudged Beldana in the ribs hard enough to 
cut off her reply. Then he stepped forward with a smile 
and bowed to the woman.
    "My lady!"
    She looked at him, blinked. "And who are you, my 
lord?" she said, responding to the smile, even though it 
bared his fangs, and to the fact that he was a viaquia, 
one of the races allied most strongly to the vespels all 
over the world.
    "Somebody who has nothing but love for your race, and 
desire to see peace between Elwens and vespel," said 
Peranor firmly, saying things that were true; he just 
happened to be using them for his own purposes this time, 
for something other than mere statements of truth. "Will 
you help me with that goal?"
    "Of course-"
    "Then please, my lady, tell me your name." Peranor 
bowed. "Mine is Peranor Lightfoot. You already know my 
companion's. It is unfortunate that you appear to hate 
her. But if I am to help heal the rift between you, I 
would like to have yours, so that we can all be on an 
equal footing."
    The woman's spine-mane bristled, and she shot her 
claws. "Equal?"
    Peranor made a wry face. "I understand my lady's 
anger, but I assure you, we are all equal here- here in 
the heart of the world, on the cusp of war. Beldana and I 
have endeavored to keep the peace between the races by 
defeating a curalli attack, and you have done your part in 
the vespel way. Please, will you not at least attempt to 
keep peace here?"
    Anything that she could say after that speech would 
sound ill-mannered. Peranor bit his lip, a little, as he 
watched her struggle. It was not very fair, what he had 
done, but at least it was better than sparking the air 
with anger and half-settled arguments. They really did all 
need to work together.
    "My name is Olinda," she said at last.
    "Thank you!" Peranor seized her hand, shot claws and 
all, and bowed over it. "I have heard of you, my lady." He 
had, as a matter of fact. "I believe that it was you who 
arranged for grain to be shipped to the Preserves that had 
put down their rebellions?"
    "I- I have," she said, bowing her head a little as the 
star-shaped eyes sparkled.
    "I thought so," said Peranor with quiet satisfaction, 
releasing her hand. "Someone like you understands that 
those who remain loyal to the Defense, no matter what 
their race, deserve help from the Defense and a chance to 
prove themselves." He glanced at Beldana, then glanced 
back at Olinda. "Don't you agree?"
    "I- suppose so," said Olinda, with a little sigh, as 
if she was making a very great sacrifice. "But we have 
heard tales of what she did in Shadowtown, and frankly, 
all of them are very ugly. All of them very dark. They say 
that she ate souls," she said, in hushed tones of utter 
horror.
    "I know. But think what it must be like to be a 
darkness Elwen Bashisan, my lady, not just a Bashisan. The 
Bashisani are despised and hated, even as they are asked 
to perform their tasks in a time of war, such as is almost 
upon the world now. And now she is hated and feared more 
than the rest, because of all that she can do. I saw her 
take no soul that was not in the defense of the Defense. 
She did what she hated and had been taught to despise, 
because she understood that there was a greater good at 
stake. Does that sound like the action of an evil woman?" 
He caught and held Olinda's eyes, demanding her attention. 
"Could you do as much, my lady? Could you act like such a 
true hero?"
    "I'm not sure that I could, no," said Olinda, 
acknowledging the truth in spite of herself. She bowed a 
little to Beldana, though it was reluctant and hurried. 
"My lady, I didn't know. I can only imagine how hard it 
must have been for you, and what courage it took to 
overcome your fear and loathing for that part of yourself 
so that you could use it to serve the Defense."
    Peranor looked on in satisfaction. He had hoped that 
this might happen, and it had happened. Olinda knew the 
truth now, and she had no reason to look upon Beldana as a 
killer and a disgrace to the Bashisani anymore. And 
Beldana had no reason to despise the woman, having seen 
that she was capable of forgiveness and understanding.
    Beldana bowed back, and then turned to look at 
Peranor. She was sent out as a test.
    What?
    She was sent out to express the suspicions of the 
Kaleina and see what we would do with them. If we had 
stammered and been unsure, or snappish, as I was, then 
they would have refused to see us.
    You didn't tell me this?
    You were too deep in the plan that you spun out of- 
spiderweb drifting in the air, I suppose- for me to reach 
you.
    Peranor sighed, and then calmed down a little. You're 
right. I did the best that I could, and it seems that it 
was the right thing. We're being invited inside the Court, 
at least.
    He had turned to walk inside when he felt her hand on 
his shoulder. He received a lightning blast of emotion 
from her that was almost enough to fling him to the floor, 
though not quite.
    That was how I felt when you started speaking of me as 
a hero of the Defense-
    Respected, trusted, flattered, stronger, braver, a 
hero, loved.
    Peranor turned to stare at her in wonder, not caring 
that Olinda was waiting, and that Briery was still 
watching. "I only told them the truth," he whispered. 
"Hasn't anyone just told you the truth about yourself 
before?"
    Beldana closed her eyes and shook her head a little, 
then gripped his hand and shoulder firmly and led him into 
the Crystal Court.
----------------------------------------------------------
    The room around them was filled with drifting clouds 
of crystal light that Peranor at first took for twins of 
the cloud that had attacked him six days ago. But then the 
mist cleared, and he saw that they were only meant to give 
a dramatic sense to the expanse of the room, hiding it a 
little and then revealing it in one vast and fell swoop.
    It was magnificent.
    It was enormous, of course, filling the whole heart of 
the Tree, and Peranor had expected that. But he hadn't 
expected the sense of grandeur that almost stung him and 
brought tears to his eyes.
    This was what the Bashisani fought to keep safe, and 
the reason that he had decided he wouldn't mind becoming 
one of them. The room was filled with light, skipping and 
sparkling and rebounding, and not from mirrors or lamps or 
even the crystal. It was a light that simply existed, 
simply was.
    Generated by the presence of the Kaleina.
    He lifted his head, and turned to the right, signaled 
by the presence of a hundred tales. Yes, there sat the six 
great crystal thrones, on the bump that was the beginning 
of a branch that projected from the Tree like a spoke from 
a wheel.
    They were empty as yet.
    Peranor was content to turn his back and just gaze. 
Now he could see that the crystal walls were not blank, as 
was most of the crystal in the Tree, even most of the 
halls leading to the Court, just because the crystal was 
too slick to hang any decorations on. But these had living 
visions shifting, imprisoned, in them.
    Visions that were different in every direction, 
signaling the presence of that part of the Defense that 
part of the Tree looked towards.
    Peranor blinked. It was like looking down a hundred 
different tunnels. He could see green and gray and gold, 
and red and blue, all the colors of the Changed World, the 
world the vespels had fallen in love with. They loved it 
so much that they had taken up the task of keeping it safe 
and peaceful for the rest of time.
    "You may bow."
    The voice was chiming and winding around itself, ready 
to separate into six separate voices, but not quite making 
the transition. Beldana had already fallen to one knee, 
though she was not facing the thrones. Tears streamed down 
her face.
    Peranor realized that she could see the Kaleina 
through his eyes, and bowed his own head, though he 
already knew that the kneeling salute was not appropriate 
for someone like him, who was not a full member of the 
Bashisani as yet. He was not sure where he had heard that, 
or if Beldana had told him in that unique way that they 
had.
    It didn't really matter. It just mattered that it was 
inappropriate, and he was determined not to do anything 
inappropriate in front of the Kaleina, no matter what else 
might happen.
    He would show them that even provincials had more of 
grace and courtesy than that.
    "You may look up."
    He did, and saw that the six had taken their places. 
Three men, three women; the balance that vespels so loved, 
though they had settled for Kaleinas in the past that had 
less than this perfect number, in order to have the best 
vespels for the task. But this one had three of each, and 
thus was considered lucky and blessed, as well as 
especially competent.
    The thrones were arrayed in a perfect circle, 
indicating that though one, the Link, might speak for the 
rest of them, there was no one who stood higher than the 
other five. The one in the chair closest to them was the 
Link, a strong woman who looked unexpectedly young. Her 
claws were still short, and her spine-mane had the 
softness and silkiness of the young, that always reminded 
Peranor of feathers rather than fur. She stared straight 
at them with bright green eyes that seemed to see through 
them rather than to them.
    Peranor felt a shiver run down his spine. This was 
what the rebels wanted to destroy? They were bold to be 
trying. They would never succeed.
    "Welcome," she said, the chiming voice ready to 
separate into six emerging from her mouth. Peranor had 
seen the Kaleina in their ghost forms once before, but 
they had looked nothing like this. Then, they had been 
magnified in his mind by the knowledge that he was about 
to die. This time, the Link looked on him with friendship 
and spoke almost as if he was an equal, as if anything 
could equal the power of a joined Kaleina mind. "We have 
been waiting most anxiously to greet you."
    She picked up the thought from Peranor's mind that 
they had been kept waiting for days too long if that was 
the case, and laughed, a sound that reminded him like the 
ringing of spiderwebs loaded down with dew. "That was our 
fault, and not that of our servants," she said, with a 
shake of her head. "We are busy. Just this morning, we 
aided the Bashisani and other loyalist forces in crushing 
three rebellions in land Elwen Preserves." She sighed and 
shook her head. "They have always been the worst, telling 
us that they have a right to war and kill."
    No one does, Peranor thought in the depths of his 
mind, and still the Link heard him. She crossed her hands 
in quiet reproof.
    "Those who serve the Defense do."
    Of course. Peranor bowed his head. Through his own 
choice, he had faced a death sentence himself. And the 
Bashisani had the right to kill to defend the lives of 
others, just as the Representatives in Leecirna would have 
had the right to take his life if they thought that he was 
a danger to others.
    No one has the right to threaten anyone else.
    "That is right." The Link leaned back and relaxed her 
hands. "We do not threaten. That we leave to our enemies. 
We have the higher arts to think of."
    Diplomacy?
    "Among other things. But defense has its place in the 
arsenal of weapons at our disposal, if you will pardon an 
expression that seems to have lingered, unfortunately, 
from the days when the world was still at war." The Link 
gazed directly into his eyes. "This unusual bond that you 
possess with your companion could be another such one. How 
did it come about?"
    Peranor made to speak, but Beldana was already pouring 
her memories of the battle where they had bonded into the 
minds of the Kaleina. They studied it; Peranor could feel 
them studying it, though not much of anything else. Their 
thoughts danced such webs that it gave him a headache to-