Author's Note: Credit and blame for this goes to the usual suspects, especially Raiko-san and Biku-sama for their excellent feedbackin'. Also, this is my first MK fic with all original characters - yay me! Comments, as always, to johinsa@hotmail.com - if you people sent me more mail, I'd finish more than two or three of these a year. So, hah, it's your fault. Anyway, here it is at last.

"Chie!" Tenuto called, straining his grey eyes to look for her in the dimness of the Omniversal Library. Dust hung in the air, and the light on the faded book covers had a reddish late-afternoon tinge. Tenuto spotted a long-haired figure huddled over some papers, and hurried over to her table. "Chie, I need to talk to you--"

The girl raised her head, and Tenuto realised that it was not, in fact, the Goddess of Words after all. She was much younger, and her hair was dark blonde, not red. Tenuto had never seen her before, which confused him; he thought he knew all the gods and goddesses, by sight at least. There weren't so few that it was impossible for one to have slipped his mind, but it was still a little odd.

"I can get Chie, if you like," the girl said. "She's in the back, I think."

"No need, Efalyn, I'm here." Chie emerged from behind one of the tall wooden shelves. "Tenuto. How nice. Efalyn, you can go in the back and start on the Prophecies from the Third Meeting, please. I want to speak to Tenuto alone." The girl stood, making a curious obeisance to Chie, and hurried away into the depths of the Library. Chie seated herself and motioned to Tenuto to do the same.

"Who was that?" Tenuto asked, settling himself on a stool.

"One of Dekiru's better ideas," Chie answered. "She's a mortal from Thrihyrne, and she's saving me incredible amounts of work. She's very well-trained; I must congratulate Dekiru on how well she's doing. Right now I'm having her compile an index of all the Prophecies that haven't yet come true--as far as we know, anyway," she added with a smile. "It isn't always obvious--some of them are pretty obscure--but the listing should still be useful." Chie leaned forward and folded her hands on the table. "But you didn't come here to talk to me about mortals, Tenuto."

As quickly as that, they had come to it. "No," Tenuto said. "I didn't." He too leaned forward, unconsciously lowering his voice. "It's about Elder Hisan."

Chie nodded. "I know. She opposed your candidacy." Tenuto looked startled. "Wego mentioned it to me," Chie explained. "He has a big mouth. It doesn't seem fair, I know, but maybe Hisan's right. Maybe you aren't ready yet. It's a big responsibility, especially for--" She stopped.

"For someone like me," Tenuto finished grimly. "For the God of Music."

"Well--yes," Chie said. "Tenuto, you're not very powerful, we both know that. You might have trouble getting the others to respect you."

He looked skeptical. "I'd be willing to believe that was their reasoning, if it was anyone but Elder Hisan. She's opposing me because Rivus was my sponsor, that's all it is. Powers have nothing to do with it," he said bitterly. "I know."

"Tenuto--" Chie began.

"Hisan's sponsoring Malianh!" Tenuto burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. "Rivus just told me. She's putting his name in at the next meeting."

"Malianh?" Chie gasped. Her long-nailed hand flew to her mouth. "Hisan's sponsoring a Numina? That's--that's crazy! Numina can't be Elders!"

Tenuto nodded. "That's why I came to see you. I need a way to challenge Malianh's nomination on legal grounds. If I can undermine her candidate, it'll weaken Hisan's position, and Rivus and Wego will be able to control the selection."

"Well, I'll try, of course," Chie said, shaking her head. "A Numina! Hisan must not be quite sane anymore." She stood up, brushing imaginary dust from her dress. "The books of the Law are this way. Come."

Maresium was a semi-tropical paradise, and this time of year, like any other, it was beautiful. Hisan, Elder Goddess of Fire, stood on the beach and dug her bare toes into the sand, looking out over the ocean. It was a restful view, ever-changing and yet always essentially the same.

A yellow-green flicker out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Without turning her head, she smiled. "Malianh. I wondered when you'd get here. Have you done what I asked?"

"Of course, Elder Hisan." The pewter-haired Numina bowed stiffly and stepped into her field of view. He was dressed in bright blue today, with slashes of red across his chest. Malianh was one of the few gods Hisan knew who routinely dressed to clash with the colours of his aura. The other Elders, of course, disapproved. "All is prepared."

"Good," Hisan said. She smiled, turning slowly in place. "Isn't it a lovely day?"

"Yes, Elder Hisan," Malianh said uncertainly.

"You can go now, Malianh," Hisan prompted him.

"Yes, Elder Hisan," Malianh repeated. He gestured a portal open, and then paused. The nascent energies coalesced back into his hands. "Elder Hisan, if I may ask--" She nodded. "Why me? Why did you nominate me?"

"You asked me to," Hisan said simply. "If a Numina like yourself, and one barely more than a child at that--it was seven Festivals ago, was it not? Your Ceremony? If someone so obviously unsuitable had the courage to ask for nomination--and from the Eldest, yet--well, I assumed you must have a reason. That made you interesting enough to listen to, at least."

Malianh flushed. "You know my reasons, Elder."

"I do. I wonder if you do." She sighed. "This is going to be difficult, you know. Rivus and Wego will be firmly set against you. If it had been one of them who had returned to the Creator, I would have more influence; Stella was by far the most malleable of us. As it is, I have no allies among the Elders."

"What about--about the other one of you?" Malianh asked, stumbling for a moment over the words. Hisan smiled, amused.

"You won't name him either," she said. "I wonder how that started."

"Elder--" Malianh began, but she waved him to silence.

"It doesn't matter. I don't believe he'll support me, but I'm certain he won't support Wego. I think we can come to an understanding. It's Rivus who will be the major threat in this. I shall have to find some means of convincing him. If I can do that, Wego will fall in line."

"I see," Malianh said, though he obviously didn't.

Hisan shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said again. "You can leave now. I'll take care of things with the Elders; you just worry about your end of this bargain, and everything will be fine."

"Yes, Elder Hisan. Thank you." Malianh lifted his hands, and the yellow-green portal reappeared. Hisan caught a brief glimpse of Malianh's Realm, forested Cwelig, as the Numina stepped through and vanished. The portal disappeared, and Hisan returned to staring at the ocean.

She hadn't told him everything, of course. No doubt he realised her most obvious interest in this: that she stood to gain great influence if the newest of the Elders was under her patronage and nearly powerless. No doubt he was already making plans to ease her hold on him once he was selected. Hisan smiled briefly to herself. No doubt. Malianh was hardly stupid. He would realise how little room to maneuver he had, but he would be using it for all it was worth.

For all his intelligence, though--apparent to her even through the mask of docility he wore so well--Malianh had clearly not yet grasped the other part of her plan. No fault of his; he didn't have the information she had, nor the experience. With luck, he wouldn't figure it out any time soon. That would make things--difficult.

She sighed, taking one last deep breath of the salt air, and opened a portal to the Omniversal Hall. There were things that had to be set in motion there, and time was running out.

Efalyn lay on her side, her knees curled up to her chest. It reminded her of home, sleeping that way: the youngest of eleven children, she had shared a bed with three older sisters and had never had much space to stretch out in. Now, in her room in the Omniversal Hall, she had more space than she knew what to do with. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and shifted restlessly in the wide empty bed.

Footsteps passed in the hall, moving briskly past her door and fading. One of the gods on some important errand, no doubt. Everyone around here was always doing such important things--and, usually, things that were frankly incomprehensible as well. Efalyn had been trained as a researcher and information synthesist, taught to fashion a comprehensible whole out of scattered pieces of data, but there was nothing here to grab hold of. This place, this world was too large, and the view she was allowed was too narrow. How could she even begin to understand it when all she saw was the Library and this room?

I don't want to be here, she thought plaintively. Honour be cursed, I just want to be back home.

She heard footsteps again, outside, and this time they paused outside her door. Someone tapped loudly on the panelling. "Come in?" Efalyn called, grabbing a robe from the end of her bed and pulling it around her shoulders.

The door opened. The woman who stood there was tiny, smaller than Efalyn by at least a hand and a half, and her yellow-white hair hung past her knees. Efalyn jumped to her feet and bowed, doing the ritual obeisance as well as she could with one hand holding her robe closed. "My Lady Afansi," she said. "How may I serve?"

"Please," the Goddess of Civilisation said, holding out her hand. "Relax. I didn't mean to startle you. If this is a bad time--"

"Oh, no, of course not, my Lady," Efalyn said quickly. If Afansi wanted to be polite, Efalyn could match her courtesy for courtesy. "Will you sit? I can make some tea--"

"No, no, I can't stay," Afansi told her. "I just--my father said he'd seen you this afternoon."

"Lord Tenuto. Yes, of course." Efalyn smiled. "He and Lady Chie are quite close. But you know that, of course."

Afansi nodded. "Of course. I'm hoping they'll decide to marry; Music and Words are compatible, and he's been very lonely since Mother died. I think she would be good for him." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "But I didn't come here for gossip. I need to you to pass a message to Chie for me."

"What message?" Efalyn asked, adding belatedly, "my Lady."

"Tell her that I've decided to marry Dar," Afansi said in a rush. "We've discussed it and I think it's for the best. I know, I know," she shook her head, as though Efalyn had interrupted her, "we can't have children, our powers are completely incompatible, the Elders would forbid it. But I want to marry him anyway. I love him, and I don't care about children. I don't even like them, really."

"Of course I'll carry your message, Lady Afansi," Efalyn said, bemused, "but why can't you tell her yourself? For that matter, why tell her at all?"

"I want to register our betrothal now," Afansi explained. "But we can't let anyone else find out yet. Not even my father--especially not my father. Elder Rivus is sponsoring him as Elder Stella's replacement, you know. If the other Elders found out that his only child had decided on a marriage that they thought was--well, ill-advised--"

"That's putting it lightly," Efalyn said drily. "Civilisation and Tragedy--"

"I know, I know. The point is, it could hurt his chances. I don't want to do that. But I haven't had my Ceremony yet, I haven't come into my full powers, and Tenuto has the right, as my father and guardian, to select a husband for me. I don't know that he would, but if it was the only way to secure his candidacy--by marrying me to Wego's son, for instance--" She trailed off.

"That's why you need Lady Chie," Efalyn said, understanding. "She can register your betrothal to Lord Dar in the Records without anyone else finding out about it. That way you'll be able to refuse an arranged marriage if Lord Tenuto tries to negotiate one, but you won't have to tell him anything until and unless that happens. And by going through me, you won't be seen with Lady Chie, so no-one who realises you might try something like this--your father or Lord Wego, in particular--will have any cause to suspect anything."

"You're such a clever mortal!" Afansi exclaimed, delighted. "That's exactly what El--that's what I was told. So you'll carry my message?"

"As my Lady commands," Efalyn murmured.

Afansi smiled. "Thank you." She stood and turned to go. "Good night, then."

"Good night," Efalyn said softly to the closed door. Such a clever mortal. Afansi was not, by and large, a clever goddess; Efalyn had overheard plenty of comments to that effect. Most likely she hadn't even realised her slip.

So one of the Elders suggested this. Who? Not Wego, certainly. And not Death; Efalyn didn't know him well enough to say what he might do, but she did know that no-one referred to him as "Elder Death". She had only ever heard Rivus and Hisan speak of him by name at all. And as for those two--Efalyn shivered. They were equals in deviousness. It seemed more likely to be Rivus, who was sponsoring Tenuto and would certainly want to protect his family, but it could as well be Hisan, arranging to make Tenuto lose face by forcing him to back down from a marriage he'd arranged, and perhaps alienating him from Wego in the process. And those were only surface interpretations; it could easily be something else entirely, some plan no-one would understand until it had already unfolded and could no longer be countered.

Efalyn shivered again and climbed back into her bed. The blankets were cold. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, for once glad that she was invisible here. Whatever happened in this struggle of giants, she, at least, wouldn't be involved.

Tenuto awoke, gasping, from a dream whose fragments faded around him even as he opened his eyes. Out of habit still unbroken by time, he reached out blindly for his wife, but his hand touched only the mattress and the edge of the narrow bed. Fully awake now, he slumped back on the pillow, pulling the covers up around his neck.

Oh, Saruya, he thought. Why now? Why couldn't all this have come ten years ago, when we both could have enjoyed it? Sarupanikal had always been drawn to power, perhaps because she had never had it; why she fell in love with the God of Music remained as much a mystery to him now as it had been when they married. Her parents had asked his for permission to marry the two, as was usually the case; only later did Sarupanikal reveal to Tenuto that it had been her idea.

Marriage for love was rare, but not unheard of, and after all Sarupanikal was Numina and powerless. No-one cared much who Numina married, since there was no question of a dangerous combination of powers. But still, her family had been an influential one, and she could have married much higher than him. Tenuto never asked her why she hadn't; she had loved him, as he loved her. He still did.

But this, all this--it would have made her so happy. His star was rising, now. He knew that Rivus was playing some deeper game, that there was more at stake than Tenuto's position, but he couldn't figure out what that was. His Saruya would have; she'd had a head for politics, she seemed sometimes to have been born able to discern the subtle currents of influence that flowed through the Elder Realm. She would have found out what was going on, and found a way to turn it to their advantage. She would have thrived on days like these.

He didn't even know why Rivus had chosen him. Tenuto had never sought such a high station, had never even considered it possible until the day the God of Rivers came to him. "I've been watching you, Tenuto," Rivus had said. "You have the makings of a leader. I can help you get where your talents will be useful, if you'll let me."

He had outlined, swiftly and in detail, the process of sponsorship, and had told Tenuto what to do. The God of Music had only nodded, dumbly, as Rivus explained what would be done. "Tell no-one," Rivus finished. "All nominees are known only to the Elders. I'll give you what information I can on the other candidates as I receive it, but you must say nothing, not even to your family--you have a daughter, yes?"

Sarupanikal would have understood. But she was gone, and there was no-one else Tenuto trusted. Even Chie--she was a close friend, but he still wondered where her loyalties lay. He sighed, closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind for sleep. There would be long days ahead.

A small noise outside brought him back to full awareness. Quickly he got up, creating a light in one hand, and strode out onto the veranda.

Afansi paused with her hand on the door. "Father," she said with a nod.

"What are you doing, child?" Tenuto asked. "It's late. Where were you?"

"Out." Afansi smiled. "It's a pretty night. I thought the starflowers might be in bloom, but they're not, yet."

Tenuto felt unaccountably relieved. "Then you weren't with--that boy?"

"His name is Dar, father. And no, I wasn't with him. Why?"

"Never mind." Tenuto made up his mind not to say the same thing again, then, as always, said it anyway. "I'm just worried about you, child. If he--if you--well, it's a serious matter, and in your case especially--"

"If I become pregnant, the child will be put to death before he can harm the Omniverse," Afansi said with a harshness that set Tenuto back, "and I will most likely be killed for breaking the Law, and Dar with me. I know, father. I've known since I was old enough to read the record of my birth scry. I've grown up knowing, father, but I have grown up." She glared up at him; they were neither of them tall, but Afansi was smaller than her father even in the high boots she habitually wore. "I don't need you to remind me of the consequences. I'm old enough to remember."

"You're not an adult yet, and you'll listen to me," Tenuto snapped, matching her bluntness with his own. "You're still a child under the Law, and you'll remain one until I see some behaviour from you more responsible than sneaking off in the middle of the night to Creator knows where--"

"I told you, I went to the plain to see if the starflowers--"

"Don't lie to me, Afansi!" She staggered back, onto the top step of the porch; Tenuto looked down at his hand and realised he had slapped her. "Go to bed," he said.

Afansi ducked her head and opened the door. She stopped for a moment on the threshold, then, thinking better of whatever she would have said, she hurried inside.

Tenuto slumped against one of the pillars that held up the porch. There was no sound now but the insects chirping. It was cold out, but it was a pretty night. Maybe she hadn't been lying, but how could he take the chance.

Creator, help me, he thought. I don't know what to do anymore. Saruya, help me--

Yajji was waiting when Malianh returned to his Realm. He had never officially invited her to Cwelig, and the strain of being present uninvited in a nominally hostile Realm showed in the tension of her face and neck. She leaned against a tree, trying to look casual. "Malianh. What a surprise."

"I thought you weren't going to come here anymore," Malianh snapped. "It's too risky."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. We're friends, everyone knows that. They aren't going to suspect anything more." She winced and rubbed at her taut shoulders. "Malianh, by the Name, could you at least welcome me here for now? I'm not going to do anything."

Malianh sighed. "I declare my Realm friendly to Yajji," he said reluctantly. "For now."

Yajji smiled, the tight muscles around her jaw relaxing. "Much better. Malianh, honestly, why do you put me through this? You're always so uptight."

"I just--don't feel comfortable with all this," Malianh admitted. "I mean, I agree with what we're doing--if I didn't, I never would have gone along with the plan in the first place--but it just seems so artificial. No matter which way I turn, I'm someone's puppet. Even supposing I get chosen, I'll be expected to just go along with whatever Elder Hisan says. How does that help us at all?"

"You'll still be one of the Elders," Yajji insisted. "You'll have a lot more power than you think. All right, yes, you'll be expected to side with Elder Hisan when she opposes the other Elders, but we knew that. You'll still be able to suggest changes, implement new policies--you'll be able to do a lot. And you'll have a lot of support, too; all of the Numina will support you, and others will as well--once they get over the shock, that is. And, after all, Elder Hisan is old. She's one of the last of the First Generation, you know that. Elder Stella was younger than she is. Sooner or later, you won't be under her influence anymore."

Malianh nodded, but still looked unconvinced. "I talked to her today, you know. She still seems pretty--vigorous. I don't think we should start planning her funeral just yet. And until then, what will I be? The token Numina. Look at us, we believe in equal opportunity, here's Elder Malianh, don't worry that he's never actually allowed to do anything of substance--"

"Malianh, stop it!" Yajji glared at him, her aura flashing red and white around her for a second. "This is no time to be having second thoughts. We chose you and you agreed. There wasn't anyone else to choose; Barrett's too aggressive, Kuarosa's only a child, I'm too--"

"Notorious?" Malianh said dryly.

"I was going to say popular," Yajji snapped.

Malianh shrugged. "Whatever. I know I was the logical choice, but it just seems so futile. I mean, so what if--"

"You'll be one of the Elders," Yajji repeated. "So what if you're mostly a symbol? It's still a symbol we need. We have to show them that we Numina aren't inferior just because we don't have powers. Name of the Creator, Malianh, even if you lose, people will still be encouraged that one of us had the balls to try!"

"If I lose, they won't even know," Malianh pointed out. "The candidates are kept secret. I don't even know who else is in the running."

"All of us know you tried," Yajji said. "We decided together that you would, remember? If you fail, we'll have to try something else, that's all."

Malianh frowned, not liking the tone in which she said that. "Something else? What, exactly?"

"We'll think of something," Yajji said lightly. "You don't need to worry about that. Just concentrate on your work and leave the rest to us. One way or another, we'll show them we won't be pushed around anymore."

"Where is he?" Wego muttered, glancing at the window. It was early morning, and the shadows slanted westward across the floor of the Minor Hall in which they waited. "We're Elders. He shouldn't be allowed to keep us standing here like this."

"You can leave if you'd like," Rivus said mildly. Wego glared at him.

"I'll stay, but I still think he shouldn't--"

"Sorry I'm late!" Dekiru called from the doorway, and hurried into the room with an armful of folders. "I had some things I had to, uh--" He gestured helplessly at the papers that threatened to spill out of his arms. "Well, anyway, here I am."

"Yes, quite," Rivus said. "Will you sit?"

They sat. The table was ornately carved around the edges, heavy and solid like most of the furniture in the Omniversal Hall. This one had images representing the various powers around the border; Rivus noted with amusement that Wego immediately began searching for the symbol of Snow. Finding it, he traced it carefully with his finger, wiping away the dust. Dekiru didn't appear to notice.

"So I got your message," he said, as he tried to stack his folders in a reasonable facsimile of a tidy pile. "You weren't very clear, though. I've been thinking for awhile that there ought to be some kind of standardised guideline for short messages. Clarity, conciseness, that sort of thing. I may write a book on it. Or perhaps not." He smiled ingratiatingly. "So--"

"I wanted to speak to you about your Assistants," Rivus began, leaning forward.

Dekiru brightened; this was a subject near to his heart. "Yes, they're quite astonishing, aren't they? Even I wasn't expecting them to be quite this useful. I've had more requests than I can fill lately. It really is most gratifying."

"I'm sure it is," Rivus murmured. "But I wonder if you've considered what else they might be able to do."

"They're already filling quite a number of roles," Dekiru said, puzzled. "Record-keeping, organisation, landscape design--"

"Yes, I know that," Rivus said patiently, "but there are other things they could do--within those positions. Being so close to so many, they have access to a great deal of information that even most deities can't reach. If they were instructed to report and pool that information, and if it were entrusted to the one who administrated them, as well as another who could put it to good use--"

Dekiru's face hardened. "No. Absolutely not."

"But just consider the possibilities, Dekiru!" Wego insisted.

"I have, and I find them distasteful. Only you could have come up with something like this, Rivus." He barely glanced at Wego, and the God of Snow stiffened, insulted. "My mortals will not be used as spies. If this program is to have any success, they have to be trustworthy or no-one will be able to use them at all. That means being loyal to their employer."

"And to you," Rivus pointed out.

"And to me, yes, but I would never use any information they give me for political gain. I have no interest in politics; everyone knows that."

"No," Wego snapped, "you're too wrapped up in your little games to consider the larger issues!"

"Be quiet, Wego." Rivus spoke softly, but with such an edge of malice that Wego was immediately silent. "Dekiru, it's precisely because you have no interest in politics that you need someone like me to help you. Without my assistance, you--"

"Your assistance?" Dekiru said sardonically. "If you're that eager to serve, Rivus, why don't you enroll in the Institute back in Thrihyrne for a few years? Perhaps the teachers there could make something useful out of you." Rivus, unable to think of a suitably cutting reply, sat wordlessly fuming as Dekiru rapidly gathered his papers. "Well, thank you for the chat, Rivus. It's been most illuminating. I'll be sure to mention it next time I see--oh, Elder Hisan, perhaps. I'm sure she'd be interested in this idea of yours." He smiled. "Just because I don't care for politics, don't ever make the mistake of assuming I'm stupid." He stood, then glanced over his shoulder as he left. "And you, Wego, if you keep rubbing that symbol you're going to wear it out. Good afternoon."

"What if he does tell Hisan about this?" Wego squeaked, as soon as the door was closed.

Rivus shook his head. "It's an idle threat. Like he said, his mortals are useless if they're not trusted; he doesn't want to go around planting the idea in people's heads that the Assistants could be used for this kind of thing. No, he'll keep quiet."

"Well, I still don't like it!" Wego said indignantly. "Did you hear the way he talked to us? No respect at all. You'd think he doesn't care that we're Elders!"

"I think that goes along with not caring about politics, Wego," Rivus said with a sigh. "Well, it was a good idea, but it looks like we're going to have to find another way. As long as the Assistants are under Dekiru's control, they're useless to us." He paused, waiting for Wego to grasp the obvious.

Wego didn't disappoint him. "What if--they weren't under Dekiru's control anymore?" he suggested craftily. Rivus frowned, as though he didn't understand.

"What do you mean, Wego?"

"Well," Wego said, leaning forward, "there's always Dekiru's brother. Liorcan will inherit Thrihyrne if Dekiru dies, won't he?"

"Dekiru has children, though," Rivus pointed out. "Kuarosa's nearly fourteen, and she could inherit, and then there's the son, whatever his name is--"

"Karoshi," Wego said, waving a hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter. They're both still underage, they can't inherit the Realm now. And if the Assistants are as popular as he says, nobody's going to want the program put on hold for a few years until that little brat Kuarosa is old enough to take over. No, we can get the Realm assigned to Liorcan, assuming he'll cooperate with us. I'm sure we can do it." He straightened his back, trying to look important, but succeeded only in looking pompous. Rivus managed to stifle his derisive laughter. It was necessary to elicit his ideas from Wego sometimes, to keep the little man feeling that he contributed something to their plans, but it was terribly annoying. Wego was far more interested in the trappings of power than in its substance, and had no feeling for the wielding of it, no subtlety.

"Very well, then," Rivus said aloud. "I'll speak to Liorcan later and see if he'll give us his help. You'd better stay clear of them both for now; we don't want to alert Dekiru to any of this. With luck, we'll be able to set things in motion in a couple of days."

Efalyn awoke as soon as the light from the window touched her pillow. She pushed the covers off and stood, immediately alert. There was a note on the foot of the bed.

See me at once. Dekiru.

She crossed the bare floor naked and splashed water on her hands and face from the washstand in the corner. That and the bed and a trunk of clothes were all her belongings here; the gods could furnish their quarters as elaborately as they liked, but Efalyn had always felt it would be disrespectful to try to emulate them. Besides, she told herself, she was doing holy work and had no need for extraneous things.

She dried herself and selected a pair of pants and a dark blue jacket, cut in the style of the capital city. She glanced at herself in the mirror above the washstand as she cinched her belt tight around her hips. Her bangs were starting to grow over her eyes again; she'd have to cut them soon. She stepped into a pair of slippers and headed down the hall to the Library, where Lord Dekiru would be.

He was there, poring over one of his ubiquitous reports. Efalyn and the other Assistants filed reports weekly, and she gathered that he actually read all of them. He wasn't the most organised person, not having been trained to it as they had, but he tried his best; and being a god, his best was extremely good.

Efalyn waited patiently in the doorway for him to notice her, but he didn't look up. Finally she cleared her throat delicately. "Hmm?" Dekiru said. He glanced up at her. "Ah. Efalyn."

She bowed. "You sent for me, Lord?"

"I am sending you back to Thrihyrne," Dekiru said without preamble. "You'll fetch the new recruits from the Institute--there are four of them--and bring them back here tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Lord, of course," Efalyn said, "but why?"

"More of the gods are seeing the usefulness of your kind," Dekiru said. "I've just had a request from Afansi for an Assistant trained in engineering and architecture, and my wife wants one, believe it or not. You'd think Police would be the last Role to need extra help around here, but what can I say, she's made up her mind. As for the other two--well, they're spares, really. I've decided it would be a good idea to bring the recruits here in the last stage of their training. Let them learn their way around the place before they have to start work."

"It would certainly ease the transition, Lord," Efalyn said cautiously, "but I meant--why me? Why not just bring them here by portal, the way you have all the others?"

Dekiru smiled. "Call it a symbol," he said. "You'll understand when you get there, I think. Go well, Efalyn."

"Stay well, Lord," Efalyn stammered. Dekiru nodded and disappeared.

The sun had reached its zenith over the Omniversal Hall, and the shadows of the trees were starting to stretch east. Rivus leaned against the wall, the chill seeping into his skin from the stone. He shivered and stood straighter.

"I'm here, Rivus." Liorcan stepped out from the shade of the trees. Rivus hadn't seen him approaching, and tried to hide his surprise. Liorcan didn't seem to notice. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to speak to an Elder?" Rivus asked with a cold smile. Dekiru didn't care about politics, but his brother did, and Liorcan flushed.

"My apologies, of course, Elder," he said, giving a shallow, guarded bow. "Why have you asked for me?"

"Walk with me." Rivus touched his arm, and they began to walk slowly through the grass. "I spoke to your brother this morning," Rivus said. "He's very single-minded."

Liorcan snorted. "That's an understatement."

"Indeed. He has no interest in politics, nor--advancement." Liorcan nodded, uncertain where the conversation was going. "I hear," Rivus continued, "that you and he see some things differently."

"Maybe," Liorcan said cautiously.

"For instance," Rivus said, "Dekiru fails to take advantage of opportunities that are presented to him. As a purely hypothetical example, suppose your brother had a way of gaining information from other gods and goddesses--information, let us say, obtained by third parties who were close to them. Dekiru might not see the advantage that could be gained by this. He might refuse the assistance of one able to best use that information."

"I see." They walked in silence for several moments. Liorcan broke it at last. "Dekiru isn't good at politics," he said. "But he has more--access--than I do. If I had the same information sources he does--"

"Then you could be useful to others," Rivus finished, "and others, in return, could be useful to you."

"What are you suggesting?" Liorcan asked.

"I can nominate whom I choose to the Elders," Rivus said. "And if an Elder, or a pair of them, had access to the Assistants, this could provide great opportunities." There; he had said it. The words hung between them in the air.

"You would--support this?" Liorcan asked. "My brother won't give them over willingly. I'd need to take the Realm, and that means--"

"I will support any action you take." Rivus held up a warning finger. "No deaths. I can't condone that. But if you can gain the Assistants without killing, then I believe I can persuade the rest of the Elders to speak for you. They may not listen, but even if they don't--I will help you acquire the mortals nonetheless, and you will have Thrihyrne, and my patronage."

"I'll think about it." Rivus started to speak, and Liorcan shook his head. "I said I'll think about it. Going up against the rest of the Elders is dangerous even with your help, and I won't risk what I've got if it doesn't look like it's going to work. I'll think about it. That's all I'll say for now."

"Of course." Rivus bowed. Liorcan did the same, less guardedly than before, then turned on his heel and disappeared into the trees. Rivus smiled to himself.

Out of habit, he glanced around to see if anyone was nearby. Nothing moved under the trees. Rivus nodded, satisfied. The gardens were a good meeting place, since it was far more difficult to eavesdrop out in the open. Sometimes he thought that more political deals were accomplished out here than in the Hall itself.

"And speaking of deals," he murmured, turning suddenly just as Tenuto emerged from one of the side doors of the Hall. The God of Music jumped, startled, and looked around himself just as Rivus had done. "Oh, don't be so nervous," Rivus told him. "It isn't as though we have anything to hide."

Tenuto frowned. "I thought the candidates were supposed to be a secret."

"Supposed to, yes, but we both know how much that's worth. It's possible Hisan is abiding by that rule--she might well--but it really isn't expected. And even if it were, I doubt anyone would suspect anything of an innocent conversation."

"You're playing some sort of game, aren't you?" Tenuto asked bluntly.

Rivus nodded. "Always." His frank admission set Tenuto back, and as the god tried to frame a reply, Rivus continued, "But the reason I've asked you here is only peripherally related to the succession. You have a problem with your daughter. I believe I can help."

The sudden shift of topic caught Tenuto off-guard for the third time. "Oh?" he said, looking askance at Rivus. "How so?"

"She needs to be settled down," Rivus said. "A good marriage might well help. I know you're concerned about her relationship with that Dar boy--"

"They don't have a relationship," Tenuto snapped.

"Of course not," Rivus agreed smoothly. "Still, it would settle a lot of people's minds if the two of them were no longer in a position where they might be able to cause trouble. Afansi's birth-scry is common knowledge. The union of Civilization and Tragedy will bring forth Catastrophe and War, and the Elders will not permit that to happen." He softened his tone, looking sympathetic. "I know you must worry a great deal about her, Tenuto. Afansi's a good girl, but she's headstrong, and if she gets herself into difficulty, we'll have to judge according to the Law. A child with dangerous powers will not be allowed to be brought to term, and a mother who knowingly bears such a one--"

"I know the Law," Tenuto snapped. "What are you suggesting, Rivus?"

"Elder Wego has a son," Rivus said. "Neither he nor Afansi has had a Ceremony yet; their marriage could be arranged by their parents. He's a fine boy, and it would be an advantageous match. There'd be no concern about Dar then."

Tenuto looked at him suspiciously. "Did Wego suggest this, Elder Rivus?"

"No," Rivus said, "but he has no objection to it." Actually, Wego didn't yet know, but Rivus knew him well enough to be certain of his response. Tenuto's family was influential, and Wego wanted his son to marry status. And it would bind Tenuto more closely to them, which they needed. "What shall I tell him?"

Tenuto turned away. "I need time to think," he muttered. "I want to do right by my daughter."

"I know you do," Rivus assured him. "Take all the time you need. But if you'll heed my advice, you won't mention this to Afansi until you've decided one way or the other. You might push her into doing something rash."

"I'll think about it," Tenuto said. "I can't promise more. I'll speak to you when I've decided."

Rivus bowed in farewell, trying not to let his impatience show. No-one seemed able to make up their minds on anything around here.

Efalyn walked slowly down the white street, and the crowds parted for her. They moved slowly, unwilling to step back more than required to let her pass, and hands reached out to brush her coat as she went. It was spring, and cold. The trees along the avenue weren't yet in bloom, and their buds were tightly furled, like eyes squinted closed. The passers-by whispered to each other in voices too low for Efalyn to hear, but she could guess what they were saying.

She's returned from the Land of the Immortals. What's she doing back in Thrihyrne? Does she still belong here? What is her place? Is she still one of us, now that she's been touched by a god?

Hundreds had gone, so far. Efalyn knew this--knew, too, that she was the first one who had ever come back. She felt all their eyes on her. It occurred to her that Dekiru must be accustomed to feeling like this.

Keep your head up, she told herself. Dekiru sees, and like it or not, you're a representative of Him. Act like it. So she walked at a measured speed, looking neither left nor right, ignoring the crowds. They thinned out as she approached the Great Temple, and the murmurs grew quieter. She knew what a figure she presented: the loyal servant of Dekiru, going to pay her respects at the feet of the god. It was a powerful symbol, and one, she knew, that the priests would squeeze for all it was worth. Being the daughter of a priest herself, she understood these things.

She entered the courtyard of the Temple and waited for one of the priests there to open the Wheat Door, through which she had gone with her family to make sacrifices since she was barely old enough to stand. Instead, a bald priest with the red sash of rank bowed to her--to her!--and opened the Sun Door. She nearly stammered a protest, but she hadn't forgotten herself so far as to argue with a priest. She bowed in return and stepped inside. It baffled her that they would do her so much honour, here where no-one but the priests would see.

Leaving her coat and shoes in the hands of a trembling female novice, Efalyn stepped forward, barefoot, into the great dome of the Hall of Waters. The black marble was cold under her feet. The pool in the centre of the dome was still and dark, and ice had formed along its edges. Another novice stepped forward to take the rest of her clothing. This one was male, but it didn't matter much, not here. She stripped to her skin and folded her clothes to hand to him. The novice bowed and stepped away.

Efalyn had prayed in the Great Temple many times, in the commoners' pools in the Hall of Rain, but there the floors were ordinary cracked stone, and there was always a great press of people coming and going. It was never entirely quiet. Here, in a space ordinarily reserved for princes of the Realm, there was no sound but the padding of her footsteps, and save for the novice kneeling by the wall, she was alone.

Naked, she stepped into the water, gritting her teeth against the cold. She always hated this part. The water rose to her knees, past her stomach, over her breasts. When she was neck-deep and halfway to the center of the pool, she stopped for a moment, breathing deeply. Already she could barely feel her legs.

"Dekiru, Lord," she murmured, in the Old Language. The litany had remained the same since the days of the Lord Tai-Lu at least, and even before that, some said. Efalyn spoke more of the Old Language than most, being a scholar, but everyone knew at least this much. "This I do in remembrance. This I do in humility. This I do in hope. May my eyes be opened."

She took a deep breath and ducked her head under the water. With a few strokes of her arms and legs, she reached the bottom of the pool and turned over on her back. The great dome of the ceiling was painted like a night sky in full glory, and she could see it, dimly, through the surface of the water. Slowly, deliberately, Efalyn exhaled, the bubbles of her breath making the lights of the surface ripple. When her lungs were empty and the air in her body no longer pulled her upwards, she had no more need to move her hands to stay down. Her arms and legs were numb. Her dark hair drifted around her head, its tendrils exploring her face like the hands of a blind man.

It never occurred to her that there was any discrepancy between seeking Dekiru's wisdom in the pools and the fact that she had sat down at a table with him the previous day to discuss a possible conflict between two precedents of Realm inheritance during the Third Meeting. That was only her work, holy though it was; this was far more important.

Her lungs were screaming for air, and her chest trembled convulsively as she fought the urge to breathe. Then, as it always happened, it was suddenly no longer difficult. She was utterly relaxed, one with the water, one with this sacred place. The lights of the dome swirled before her eyes, coalescing into an image.

"No!" she shouted, or tried to shout. The water rushed into her mouth and throat. Choking, she clawed at the water, forcing her way upward. Hands reached into the pool and pulled her out, laying her flat on the black marble, pounding on her back. She coughed and choked, expelling more water than she thought her lungs could hold. After what seemed like hours, Efalyn weakly pushed the novices away.

"Were you answered?" one of them asked, as he toweled her dry. The other stood ready with her clothes. The respect and awe in both their faces was clear. Of course she was answered. How could she not be?

Because she didn't want to disappoint them, Efalyn nodded. "Yes, I was," she said.

"The Lord Dekiru is merciful," the other one said.

"Yes," Efalyn lied. She didn't want to say anything more, and dressed silently, ignoring their eyes on her. The Lord Dekiru asks more of us than we can ever give, she thought. I don't ask for mercy any more than I ask for justice, but why does this have to be so hard?

I am not a person who makes idle threats, Dekiru reminded himself, trying to suppress his nervousness. If I do nothing, he'll think I'm a coward. I need to show him he can't do this kind of thing. His footsteps echoed on the polished stone of the corridor. Stop pacing. They'll see you're worried. His feet ignored him. Two deities passed, absorbed in conversation; he didn't register who they were.

The door of the Elders' chamber opened, and Rivus brushed unceremoniously past him, barely seeming to notice his presence. Wego followed on his heels, sputtering sentence fragments and being ignored.

Dekiru waited, but no-one else seemed to be forthcoming. Cautiously, he stuck his head through the door.

"Ah, Dekiru," Hisan said calmly. She and Death were seated across from each other at the low table, half-filled mugs in front of them. The smell of tea rose from a covered pot in the center of the table. "If you wanted to address the Elders, I'm afraid we've already finished for the day."

"No, I--I came to see you, actually," Dekiru said, and stepped into the room, taking a chair without being invited. He couldn't show how nervous he was. It was bad enough that he was being forced to step into the snakes' nest that was Omniversal politics, without confirming everyone's impression that he was easily cowed or manipulated.

Hisan lifted an eyebrow. "Indeed. Would you like some tea? It's quite good." She held out an empty mug inquiringly. Death watched them both, his face impassive.

"No, no tea, I--could I speak to you alone? I mean, if you two aren't--"

"I was just leaving," Death assured him. He drained his mug in one long swallow and got up to go. "Think on my proposal, will you, Hisan? You may find it has merit, if matters turn out as I think they might."

"Of course," Hisan said with a seated bow. "Good day, then." Death nodded and left, closing the heavy door soundlessly behind him. Hisan looked at her tea, frowned, and touched the rim of her mug with a finger. There was a faint sizzle, and steam began to rise from the surface of the liquid.

"Now," Hisan said, folding her hands on the table. "What was it you wanted to discuss?"

"It's about Elder Rivus," Dekiru blurted, his earlier anxiety reasserting itself in full force. "He came to see me this morning and made a--an improper suggestion." He stopped, unsure how to go on.

"Really?" Hisan said, surprised. "I've always had my suspicions about Wego, but I was under the impression that Rivus was happily married. Why are you bringing this to me?"

It took Dekiru a moment to catch her meaning, and when he did, his ears went bright red. "No, no, Elder Hisan, that isn't what I meant at all, really! He suggested I should use my mortals to spy on people, and I refused him and said I'd tell you, and I'm not a person who makes idle threats--well, actually, I don't normally make threats at all," he admitted. "Ever, really. But it seemed like the thing to do."

To her credit, Hisan kept her amusement from showing on her face. "I see," she said. "And you weren't worried that telling me about this, ah, plot might make people more reluctant to use these Assistants of yours?"

"I was," Dekiru admitted. "But if Rivus could think of it, others eventually will too. I don't think my mentioning it to you will do the program that much harm, though obviously I'd prefer it if you didn't spread this around. And--" he scratched uncomfortably at the back of his neck, "--there's another thing, too." Hisan waited. "I saw him today in the gardens, talking with my brother. I couldn't hear what they were saying--"

"This sounds more like your wife's line of work than yours," Hisan commented.

Dekiru continued doggedly, "I know the nominations for Elder Stella's replacement are secret and you can't tell me their names, but if Rivus has nominated my brother and Liorcan ends up named to the Elders, it's only a matter of time before he'll try to cheat me out of what's mine. And if he does, you won't be able to trust the Assistants anymore. No-one will."

"I see," Hisan said again. "Well, I can set your mind at ease on one point, at least. Liorcan's name has not been laid before the Elders. By anyone."

Dekiru, who hadn't expected to be told even that much, bowed from his chair. "Thank you, Elder. I'm glad of that."

"No charge," Hisan said lightly. "Consider it a favour."

Dekiru grimaced. "I hate all this--this patronage and politicking," he said sourly. "I presume there's a price attached to this favour?"

Hisan smiled, reaching across the table to touch his arm. "So suspicious, Dekiru? No, there's no price. Believe it or not, I support what you're trying to do with the Assistants, and if Rivus and his ilk get their hands on them, they'll ruin everything you've done." She lifted a warning finger. "And none of that is to leave this room. If the rest of the Elders found out I had any other motives than political gain, it would utterly ruin my credibility."

Dekiru smiled at that, a genuine smile. "Thank you, Elder. It's nice to know someone appreciates my work."

She returned the smile, then pushed back her chair and stood. "Well, I have to get back to work, I'm afraid," she said. "I'll keep an eye on Rivus. He'll hesitate to try anything in front of me, but I may be able to find out what he's up to. You'll let me know if you hear anything more from him? Or from your brother?"

"Yes, of course," Dekiru assured her, his relief evident in his voice. "I'm glad I came to you. I didn't think--I mean, I'm glad you aren't as--well, thank you." He got up and left, repeating his thanks. Hisan closed the door behind him and smiled.

Rivus, she thought, you don't have the first idea how to make allies.

"And this is the first-year students' cafeteria," the guide continued fussily, poking at Efalyn's arm to see if she was paying attention. Efalyn smiled politely and looked over obediently at the rectangular room full of chairs and tables. It could just as easily have been one of the lecture halls through which she had been taken, or one of the exercise courts with furniture added. Having just graduated from the Institute only three years previously, Efalyn wasn't entirely sure why she was being given this tour, but as Dekiru had said, she was a symbol, and it was well to be polite.

"The students are fed only the highest-quality food," the guide added. "It's very important for them to keep up their strength. They work hard, you know! It isn't all fun and games here!"

He thinks I'm supposed to make a report about this place, Efalyn realised, and made a mental note to do just that. Meanwhile-- "Gaverin tael," she said, her manners flawless, "while I appreciate the effort to which you've all gone to make me welcome, Lord Dekiru will be most upset if the trainees don't arrive on time. Perhaps you could bring them now?" Politeness, after all, had its limits.

"Of course. Of course. Happy to serve." The guide whistled sharply, and an olive-skinned student in a white tunic appeared a moment later. "Fetch our four graduates, you. Hurry." The girl made a ritual obeisance and ran off down the corridor, her bare feet slapping the tiles. Efalyn smiled. Messenger duty. Name of the God, I used to hate that.

She said nothing, though, and waited placidly until the girl returned at a more sedate pace, leading four identically-dressed students. Looking at them closely, Efalyn could see the signs of frantic preparation: hair ribbons askew, a belt undone, shoes unpolished. They had clearly not expected to be summoned this early. Efalyn disapproved of sloppiness, but it wasn't her place to discipline them. "Very good," she said aloud. "Your names?"

They were all names from the southern provinces, a fact that Efalyn noted; the directors were trying for a better regional balance, apparently. Efalyn committed the new trainees' names to memory without effort or interest; she had been told she would be training Kimura, the black-haired girl with the unfastened belt, in the Omniversal Library, but the others she likely wouldn't see again.

"Come on, then," she told them. "Lord Dekiru's waiting."

He wasn't, of course, not right away. When they returned through the portal--all four of the new trainees gawking at the single-use talisman Dekiru had given her to create it--the minor hall in which they materialised was empty. Efalyn had intended it that way; Dekiru had told her to introduce them to the Hall, and it would reflect badly on her if they got lost. There was time for at least a brief tour before they were presented to him.

She led them through the Hall, directing their attention to various points of interest, which they noted dutifully. One of the males was writing in a small book; Efalyn glanced over at it while one of the others was asking a question, and saw a map of the hallways, surprisingly well-drawn. This was, she guessed, the Assistant trained in engineering that the goddess Afansi had requested.

"And this is the Omniversal Bar," Efalyn continued, opening yet another door. "The gods come here to relax. You're allowed to drink here, but don't drink the nectar, it's not good for you. Ruth keeps a supply of mortal drinks on hand. Ruth!"

The woman behind the bar smiled. "Efalyn! You've brought some fresh meat, I see."

"They seem all right so far," Efalyn said, smiling back. "Everyone, this is Ruth taellu, an Assistant who came here about the same time I did. She works for the god who runs this place, who--" She glanced around.

"Oh, he's not here right now," Ruth said with a smile. "It's been pretty quiet today, though. No-one's been in but them." She gestured at the one table, in the corner of the room, that was occupied. Two men and two women, one very short, sat around the table with their heads close together. Efalyn recognised the two men, Malianh and Barrett, both Numina; the women were facing away from her. "They haven't been drinking much. Just talking. A lot of the gods come here for informal meetings." This was addressed to the trainees. "As a rule, we don't interfere with whatever they want to do. If anyone gets violent--which happens very rarely--we don't intervene ourselves, we call for help. Not all deities are as--restrained as Lord Dekiru."

"Are any of us going to be working here, Efalyn taellu?" Kimura asked. Efalyn shook her head absently, looking over at the table again. Something was bothering her.

The shorter woman laughed suddenly, tossing her head. Her blonde hair caught the light, and Efalyn knew her. "Damn," she said quietly. "Ruth, do you think you could finish the tour for me? Show them the gardens and the Elders' chamber, then assign them quarters. I'll come by to present them to Lord Dekiru this afternoon."

Ruth looked dubious. "This isn't exactly the proper way of doing things, you know."

"Propriety be cursed," Efalyn snapped. "This is important. Come on, taellu, please? I'll watch the Bar for you."

Ruth sighed. "Fine, but you owe me for this. Come along, then, all of you. Let's leave Efalyn tael to her mysterious important business. We've got flowers to go look at."

The five of them left, some casting uncertain glances over their shoulders as Efalyn picked up a polishing cloth from behind the bar. She began to wipe the tables, moving slowly toward where the four were sitting. She recognised the other woman now: Yajji, another Numina. And the short one, the one with the blonde hair--

"It's a possibility, Kuarosa, and that's all," Yajji said sharply to Dekiru's daughter. Kuarosa rolled her dark brown eyes with all the withering scorn a fourteen-year-old could muster. "Don't look at me like that. You know I'm right."

"We've still got to plan for it," Kuarosa muttered sulkily. She kicked at the leg of the table. Efalyn silently cleaned the table beside them.

Barrett shook his head, his expression hidden under his thick beard. "You're good at tactics, girl, but you're getting all flustered about nothing. Hisan's the oldest living goddess, the last of the First Ones. She has power. If Malianh doesn't get elected--and, frankly, I can't see why he wouldn't--"

"Five Meetings' worth of tradition and prejudice, that's why he wouldn't!" Kuarosa snapped. "You know as well as I do that Rivus--"

"Elder Rivus!" Malianh snapped back. "Be respectful!"

"Why? Barrett isn't! I don't see why I have to--"

"You're still a child," Yajji told her, "and a spoiled child at that. Behave yourself. I was against including you in this from the start, and I think you're doing a fine job of proving me right." She didn't raise her voice, but Kuarosa shrank back. "Now, we need to discuss contingencies. Kuarosa does have a point; most of the gods disapprove of the idea that one of us could be a capable Elder. There have already been a few incidents, am I right? Rudeness, unpleasant behaviour, intimidation, that sort of thing? The rumour's out that a Numina's been nominated, and those who believe it are worried. We need a strategy for dealing with this sort of thing. Frankly, I find the idea of just lying low distasteful, but if we get into any fights or shouting matches over this, there's going to be trouble. We want to avoid violence except as a last resort."

"I thought we wanted to avoid it altogether," Malianh protested.

Yajji nodded, smiling. "Of course we do. Insofar as that's possible. But we need to plan for every possibility. Every likely possibility," she added, glancing significantly at Kuarosa, who glared back at her.

Efalyn scrubbed industriously at a stain on the dark wood, two tables over. Kuarosa was Dekiru's heir and would be the Protector of Thrihyrne when Dekiru--Efalyn made a sign against ill fortune--returned to the Creator. She was Numina; she had inherited her mother's colouring, but not her powers. She made few appearances among the Thrihyrni, preferring to remain apart from them. And, unless Efalyn did something, Lady Kuarosa would be dead within the week.

She wasn't sure exactly what she had to do, but she had been told she would know when the time came. Kuarosa would die by violence; that much Efalyn had seen. Her visions in the pools had always been clearer than most people's; it was one of the reasons she had been chosen for the Institute, her sensitivity to the gods. She had seen the room, large and spacious, with a mirror--that was important, the mirror. She had seen the blast of fire, seen Kuarosa crumple to the floor, her clothes burning, her narrow face crowned with flame. The goddess was dead as soon as the blast struck her, dead before she hit the stone tiles. The room was somewhere in the Hall, but Efalyn hadn't been able to recognise it. She had only seen that single flash, and heard the words spoken. It hadn't sounded like Dekiru, but the voices of visions didn't, always. She had heard only Kuarosa's dying cry, and the simple statement, the words devoid of all emotion: If you are not with her, she will die. If you will not lay yourself on the altar as a sacrifice for your goddess, then she will be a sacrifice for her people.

Kuarosa and Yajji were arguing again. Efalyn didn't listen; it wasn't her place to eavesdrop on matters of the gods, and she didn't understand what they were talking about anyway. The vision, though, she had understood well enough. Perhaps a week from now, Kuarosa would be threatened with death, and either she or Efalyn would die.

Lord Dekiru, give me strength, Efalyn prayed. She knew which of the two of them the god would want to live. If service meant her death, then she should face it with honour, but she was frightened.

There's bound to be another way, she thought. I just have to stay close to her. I'll figure it out. Somehow, I will.

Days passed. The other three trainees disappeared to their various assignments, and Kimura joined Efalyn in the Omniversal Library under Chie's supervision. The girl was a quick learner, and their work on the Prophecies progressed. Chie was pleased.

Dekiru, too, seemed to be in an unusually good mood. Efalyn gathered, from comments he made, that Elder Hisan had given her full support to the expansion of Dekiru's program. Privately, Efalyn had her doubts that Hisan was quite as starry-eyed about the Assistants as Dekiru believed, but it was hardly her place to argue with her god. Besides, it was good to see him happy; Dekiru tended to work too hard.

"Time to eat, Karoshi," Travia said cheerfully. "Open up." The baby gurgled and waved his fists in the air, smacking the spoon Dekiru was holding and spraying ambrosia over the god and goddess. Dekiru glanced resignedly at his wife.

"I don't think he's hungry," he said.

"Of course he is," Travia assured him. "It's been hours since he's eaten. I don't know why he's being so silly."

"Are you being silly, Karoshi?" Dekiru asked with mock sternness. "Don't you know your mother's the Goddess of Police? She'll come and arrest you and--uh--do whatever happens to people who get arrested. What happens to people who get arrested, dear?"

Travia shrugged. "They get brought before the Elders, mostly."

"Well, there you are, then," Dekiru told Karoshi. "Do you want us to get Elder Hisan down here to make you eat your dinner? Hmm?" Karoshi giggled. "No, I didn't think so. Well, then, you'd better--"

"Company," Travia warned softly. Dekiru looked up, and the lines that had relaxed from his face returned.

"Liorcan," he said. "What brings you here?"

The God of Rocks shrugged lazily. "Can't a man come back to his childhood home for a visit?"

Dekiru only looked at him. The silence stretched. Travia watched them both nervously, one hand resting on little Karoshi's shoulder. Liorcan was one of the very few people who could provoke her husband's usually mild temper, and she didn't want her son to see his father and uncle fighting.

"You aren't going to welcome me home, brother?" Liorcan pressed. Travia studied his face and saw the strain in it. So Dekiru had declared the Realm hostile to him, then. She wondered when he'd done that.

"Say what you have to say and get out, brother," Dekiru snapped. "I have no obligation to welcome you."

Liorcan smiled, giving the kitchen a leisurely once-over. "You've redecorated," he commented. "I like it. The old wallpaper always got on my nerves a bit."

"I'm glad you approve," Travia said icily. Liorcan looked at her once, then shrugged as though she didn't matter and focused on his brother again.

"Well, Tai-Lu never did have much fashion sense, after all," he said. "He was a good man, our father, but he made some--bad decisions."

"Oh, I agree," Dekiru said blandly. "He should never have thrown away that old couch we used to have in the front room."

Liorcan glared at him. "This Realm should have been mine. You know that. We both know that."

"Tai-Lu didn't," Dekiru pointed out. "The scry--"

"Hah!" Liorcan slammed his fist down on the kitchen table. Little Karoshi began to wail, and Dekiru and Travia both reached for him. Travia gave him a look that said plainly, Get rid of him, I'll deal with this, and Dekiru nodded and relinquished the child. Travia picked Karoshi up and began to rock him, murmuring soothingly. Liorcan watched the scene with contempt. "The scry! Half the time those things don't make any sense, and the other half, the Elders twist them to mean what they want them to!" He lowered his voice. "It's not too late, brother. Give me Thrihyrne. There's a storm coming, and if you're on the wrong side in this, you will fall."

"Oh, really?" Dekiru snapped. "Struck by divine inspiration, were you? I thought you didn't put much faith in visions."

"You don't need visions to see what's right in front of you!" Liorcan retorted sharply. "You'd see it too if you didn't keep your head buried in the earth all the time! I have powerful friends, Dekiru. I can protect you if you'll work with me. If not--" He looked pointedly at Travia, who was trying to coax Karoshi to drink from his bottle. "You're not the only one who stands to lose in this, brother."

"Your concern is touching," Dekiru said dryly. "Now get out." His aura flared around him. "Unless you'd like to try something now? Here? Because if that's the case--"

Liorcan snarled at him, but it was clear he knew he couldn't compete with his brother in Dekiru's home Realm. "You've had your warning, brother," he snapped. "You don't get another chance." With that, he turned his back on them and gestured a portal into existence, stepping through into the Elder Realm.

Travia released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. "That was dangerous, love," she said. "You shouldn't have--"

"I'm not going to let him behave like that in my own house," Dekiru said, his voice still tight. "He may be my brother, but that doesn't give him the right to come here whenever he likes. And it certainly doesn't give him the right to threaten you."

Travia smiled. "I'm a big girl, dear."

"That you are." He leaned over to kiss her, but Karoshi's waving fist struck him on the nose. Dekiru winced, then tickled him under the chin. "You know, Karoshi, if we're going to fight for her affections, I'm a lot bigger than you are." Travia laughed and took Dekiru's hand, shifting Karoshi's weight to her other arm.

"Eww, cut it out, you guys," Kuarosa said from the doorway. The adult deities looked up as their fourteen-year-old daughter slouched into the room. "What's for dinner? I'm starving."

"You're also late," Travia pointed out. "Where've you been?"

"Out," Kuarosa said sullenly.

"Out where?" Travia pressed.

Kuarosa glared at her and dropped her jacket over a chair. "Just out." She glanced around, belatedly noticing the fading impression of Liorcan's anger in the air. "Hey, what just happened?"

Dekiru sighed. "Paper. I need paper." He patted his pockets distractedly. Kuarosa handed him a pen and notebook, which he took without seeming to notice. He tore out a blank page and started to write.

"What's going on?" Kuarosa repeated.

"I think it would be best if you and the children went to stay with your brother for the next couple of days," Dekiru said to Travia, still writing.

Kuarosa spluttered. "Children?"

"They can stay with Tenuto if you think that's best," Travia said, "but if there's that much danger, I'm staying with you." Dekiru looked up, about to protest, and Travia met his gaze steadily. "Unless you're going to try and protect me?"

"I wouldn't dare," Dekiru said dryly. "But for the next couple of days, I want you to go armed. Discreetly." Travia nodded. As the Goddess of Police, she had some skill with weapons. "You too, Kuarosa."

"Dad!" Kuarosa exclaimed. "What's going on?"

"He said he had powerful friends," Dekiru continued, mostly to Travia. "I'm guessing this has to do with the succession. Hisan said his name hadn't been laid before the Elders, but I imagine he's still mixed up in it somehow. And Rivus and Wego already have no reason to like me." He finished writing, folded the piece of paper in quarters and handed it to Kuarosa. "Take this to Chie's Assistant at the Hall, and then get Chie to call Tenuto. You're to stay with him until all this is over with."

Kuarosa unfolded the paper and read it aloud, puzzling out her father's scrawled writing. "Efalyn. Report anything you hear that's at all unusual or may have any bearing on the succession. Tell the other Assistants to do the same, but speak to no deities about this. Dekiru." She looked up. "Dad, what's going on? I don't understand."

"You don't need to," Dekiru said. "Just take your brother and go to Tenuto."

"I can take care of myself," Kuarosa said sullenly.

"No," Dekiru said bluntly, "you can't. You're still a child, and--"

"And a Numina," Kuarosa snapped. "That's it, isn't it? You think I'm useless because I haven't got powers! Just like everyone else does! Well, I'll show you!" She grabbed her jacket and started to storm out.

Dekiru flung out his hand and threw a shield around her. She slammed into it and staggered, then turned indignantly to face him. "If I were Liorcan, or Rivus," he said coldly, "what would you do right now?" Kuarosa stared at him, speechless. Dekiru dropped the shield and crossed the kitchen, opening one of the top cupboards, the one he kept spell-locked so that neither of his children could open it. He took out a knife, a small one in a leather sheath. "You don't have any powers, Kuarosa, and while no-one in this family thinks less of you for that, it does make you vulnerable. You're welcome to throw temper tantrums if you like, but you will not leave this Realm unarmed until this business with my brother is settled." He tossed her the knife. She caught it, eyes wide.

"Dad," she said in a small voice, "is Liorcan really going to try and hurt us?"

Dekiru sighed. "I don't know, sweetie. I really don't. But I'm not willing to take any chances with your safety." He took two steps toward her, enfolded her in a quick hug, and tucked the knife into the waistband of her dress, smoothing her jacket over it. "Take Karoshi and go to the Hall."

Plainly frightened, she went. When the portal closed after her, Travia and Dekiru were silent for a moment. "They'll be all right," Travia said at last. Dekiru nodded, not looking reassured. "They will," Travia repeated. She went to the cupboard and took out a few of her weapons; two knives went under her loose jacket and a short solid truncheon fitted into a loop of her belt. "And so will you, love, if I have anything to say about it."

"Everything is coming together," Rivus said, smiling as he lit a stick of incense in the Omniversal Temple. Wego stood nervously behind him, no doubt praying for all this to end well, as Rivus was. "Hisan's wavering, I can tell. She knows that popular opinion is against her. The rumours we've been spreading about a Numina being nominated have worked even better than I thought they would. She'll realise soon enough that Malianh's nomination is misguided."

"What about He Who Must Not Be Named?" Wego asked.

Rivus frowned. "What about him? You've seen him in meetings. He never says anything."

"Won't he side with Hisan, though?" Wego persisted. "I mean, he's of her generation. He's one of the First Ones. Won't the two of them--well--"

"Plot against us?" Rivus finished dryly. Wego nodded. "Wego, if they were going to do that, don't you think they would have already? Death goes his own way, he always has. Besides, what makes you think he belongs to Hisan's generation?"

"He wasn't born of the First Group," Wego answered. "He wasn't born of the Second Group. He wasn't born at all, as far as we know."

Rivus glared at him. "Death was raised by Animus and Taberu," he said sharply. "I was already born when he came to us. Stella was born, Cerulean was born--Death is younger than most of the Second Generation."

"But if he wasn't born, the way the First Group and the Second Group weren't born--"

"Well, what if he wasn't?" Rivus demanded. "Are you suggesting he's a--a Third Group, all to himself? You blaspheme, Wego!"

"I--I do not!" Wego stammered, stung by the accusation. "The Creator never said he wasn't--"

"Death is the adopted son of Animus and Taberu," Rivus repeated pedantically. "He belongs to the Second Generation. Hisan is the only one of the First Ones who's left, and even she will have to admit that we're right."

"If you say so," Wego muttered. "I have things to do." He turned and stalked out of the Temple.

Rivus watched him go. So Wego's finally trying to grow a spine. It's about time. This newly sprouted self-assertiveness could prove troublesome in the future, but it shouldn't cause problems for awhile yet. There would be plenty of time to crush the little man's ego later, once all this was dealt with; he had years of experience manipulating Wego. Liorcan, on the other hand--

Almost, he regretted trying to control the unpredictable God of Rocks. Unlike his brother, who had always struck Rivus as rather soft, Liorcan could be dangerous when provoked. Now they would have to find some way to deal with him. It galled Rivus that he had to leave that task to Wego, but what was, was. There was nothing to do now but play this out.

The candles flickered in a gust from the doorway. Rivus looked over and his lip curled. And speaking of spineless-- It was Dekiru, of course. He looked nervous, hunted, as he moved along the wall and knelt in front of one of the alcoves to light a candle. Something's scared him. I wonder if he's seen Liorcan. He thought of asking, but decided against it. Dekiru had no love for the River God, and probably wouldn't answer him anyway. It was common knowledge that Dekiru and Liorcan didn't get along, but Dekiru might still try to protect his brother if he thought the man was threatened somehow. Better to stay away.

The door opened again, and for the second time, Rivus sneered. It was one of Dekiru's mortals, looking even more nervous than her god. And she ought to, too, coming in here like this. This is a sacred place, it's not for her kind. She was looking around, trying to find someone. Dekiru, of course. Rivus moved closer, casually. Neither of them had spotted him.

"Lord Dekiru," the girl said, bowing, "there's something you need to know."

"You understand what this entails," Chie said, stepping back and looking at the two of them sternly. As one, Afansi and Dar nodded. "Neither of you has had your Ceremony yet. You're old enough to be married, but if your parents object--"

"I am old enough," Afansi said defiantly. "I know the Law. He can disinherit me, he can even refuse me my Ceremony, but I'm legally married now and he can't change that."

"Dar?" Chie said.

He shook his head. "My parents don't object. They're happy for me."

Efalyn, watching, wasn't at all surprised. Tragedy was a power that was incompatible with nearly everything; no doubt Dar's parents hadn't expected him to be able to find anyone willing to marry him.

"Lucky," Afansi said fondly, wrapping her arm around his waist. She looked up at Chie. "So we're married? So what do we do now?"

"We see the Healers," Dar answered in his deep voice before Chie could speak.

Afansi nodded. "You're all right with that?" Her voice was sad, but resigned.

"I know what our children would be," Dar said. "So do you. So do the Elders. Civilisation and Tragedy will bring forth Catastrophe and War; we've known that for a long time. This is the best way. If we can't have children, then they'll have no reason to bother us." He looked worriedly at her. "If you're having second thoughts--"

"I'm not," Afansi said quickly. "All I want is you, Dar. I don't care about children. Thank you, Chie, that's very--" All of a sudden, she started to cry.

Dar wrapped his arms around her, looking lost. The top of her head barely reached the middle of his chest. "Afya, love, don't, please--if you don't want to do this, we don't have to--"

"I can take this out of the Records," Chie said quietly. "If you want to change your minds, it's not too late."

"No!" Afansi lifted her tear-stained face to look up at her new husband. "No. I'm all right. Let's go." She took his hand firmly and led him out of the Library.

Chie sighed and sat down in one of the wooden chairs scattered through the room. Efalyn remained standing. "It doesn't take a scry to see that they're making a mistake," she said with a sigh. "This is going to be trouble."

"Then why did you agree to it, Lady?" Efalyn asked curiously. "If I may ask."

Chie smiled. "It's hardly my place to pass judgement. They've made up their minds. Besides, if I refused them, they might decide to break the Law and become lovers anyway--at least this way they're within the Law and their relationship will be observed, and they're willing to forgo having children without making too much trouble over it. I'd rather have the two of them in an unhappy marriage than executed for breaking an edict of the Elders."

"I--see your point," Efalyn said. She glanced down at her feet. "Lady Chie, if you don't mind, I need to speak with someone. Could I get Kimura to take my place for an hour or so?"

"What? Oh, certainly." Chie waved a hand distractedly. "Go ahead. I don't need you right now. Just file the marriage record before you go."

"And that's what happened, Lord," the Thrihyrni girl concluded. Rivus, listening, tried to melt into the pillar he leaned against. If Dekiru saw him now--no, Dekiru wouldn't grasp the significance of this.

At least, he didn't appear to. "Thank you, Efalyn," he said gravely. "I don't think this is relevant to our main concerns, but thank you for bringing it to me."

"I'm honoured to serve, Lord," the girl said, bowing.

Dekiru nodded. "I don't like doing this, Efalyn," he said. "I want you to know that. I didn't train you and the others to be spies. If I didn't need to protect--"

"You don't have to explain, Lord," Efalyn assured him, smiling. There was something odd in her smile, a sadness that Rivus didn't understand. "We serve. If we can protect you and your family, we'll do whatever is necessary."

"Well. Good." Dekiru stood. "I'm going back to Thrihyrne for now. You can contact me if anything else happens." With that, he turned toward the door. Rivus held his breath, trying not to be noticed.

Dekiru strode out of the Temple, and Rivus exhaled slowly. Dekiru clearly didn't attach much importance to the exchange, but with what Rivus knew--

Afansi and Dar. Tenuto's daughter and-- And someone other than Wego's son. That was the important thing. Having Tenuto linked more tightly to himself and Wego was important, but not critical; if they sponsored him to the Elders, he'd be under their thumb anyway. But Wego had chosen a very inconvenient time to start asserting himself. Status was supremely important to the God of Snow, and if he found out that the woman he had chosen for his son was no longer available, he might be upset enough to vent his anger at Tenuto, and he might do so publicly. That would cause an irreparable rift; if the other Elders saw that Wego and Tenuto were fighting--

They'll probably jump to name him as soon as they see it, he thought ruefully. Then we'll have a candidate that's under no-one's control. It would have been a good stratagem if they had thought of faking it, actually, but it was too late for that now. Now, they had to get him named before the others found out. Once Tenuto was chosen, if the other Elders acceded only reluctantly, Rivus would have the God of Music firmly under his control. Even if Wego and Tenuto fought, they would both still owe too much to Rivus to break his power among the Elders. What was important, then, was to get Tenuto chosen now. He'd sacrifice some of his advantage by forcing the issue, but he thought their position was strong enough that they could pull it off.

Rivus stood for another moment, motionless, thinking. Dekiru had left, but the blonde mortal was still there, carefully relighting a half-melted candle. Her lips moved as though she were praying, and Rivus glared at her: mortals had their own sacred places, they shouldn't be allowed to defile this one. Impatiently he strode forward and knocked the candle out of her hands. "You," he snapped. Her head shot up--in fear, he thought. "Get Wego. Bring him here at once."

"Yes, Lord, of course," the girl said. She didn't get up at once, though, but bent to pick up the candle she had dropped. She was as bad as Dekiru, Rivus thought.

He raised his hand and shot out a negligent blast of power that slammed her against the wall, her hair falling in disarray around her shoulders. "Move!" he snapped. She bowed hurriedly and ran, a pronounced limp marring her stride. Fragile creatures, mortals, Rivus thought. Worthless.

Wego came in a few minutes later; the Thrihyrni was nowhere to be seen. "What's going on?" he whined. "I was--"

"Save it," Rivus snapped, too preoccupied to be diplomatic. "We need to call the Elders together right away. Something's happened with Tenuto, and we need to get him named before the others find out." And before you find out, too, you little worm, he added silently.

"What's happened?" Wego demanded. His pale eyes searched Rivus' face. "Tell me!"

"Can't," Rivus replied bluntly. "You're too poor a liar, Wego, you'd blurt out something you weren't supposed to and ruin the both of us." Wego flushed angrily and seemed about to protest. "Don't argue," Rivus snapped. "We both know I'm right, and we don't have much time. We need to move on this now."

He strode out of the Temple, Wego trailing in his wake, and flagged down the first deity he saw. It was a Numina, a man named Barrett that Rivus didn't know terribly well. Good. "You," he said sharply. "Get Hisan and Death. I'm calling the Elders to meeting." Barrett frowned at him. Rivus sighed. "What's wrong with you? Move!"

"You can't just--" Barrett spluttered.

"Move, Numina!" Rivus snarled. "Are you disobeying a direct command from an Elder?"

"I'm busy," Barrett said sullenly.

It was too much. Rivus thrust out his hand, and the burst of energy flung Barrett back against the wall. "You will obey," Rivus hissed. "I don't have time for this. Get the Elders. Get them now." Without pausing to see if the man moved or not, he stalked away. He thought he heard Barrett mutter something vaguely threatening from behind him, but it didn't matter. He was Numina, after all; it wasn't as though he could hurt an Elder.

"Rivus!"

Now what? Impatiently, Rivus glanced over to see Liorcan heading toward him from a side corridor. "What is it, Liorcan? I'm very busy."

"I know. I know." The god was clearly delighted. "I had an idea. It's about Thrihyrne."

"Thrihyrne?" For a moment, Rivus was confused.

"You know. You said you'd support anything I did as long as I figured out a way to take the Realm without killing, and you'd spon--"

"I remember," Rivus said quickly, before Liorcan said anything about his supposed sponsorship in front of Wego. He hadn't told Wego about that part of his plans. "You've got a plan. That's great."

"Yes, and I thought--"

"Just do whatever you're going to do," Rivus snapped. "I'll support whatever action you take, I told you that already. Do you need my help to carry this out?"

Liorcan shook his head. "Well, not really, but--"

"Good. Fine. Then let me know how it goes. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have work to do." With that, he swept past Liorcan, Wego muttering apologies behind him. Whatever Liorcan was going to do, he could wait until later to hear it.

"You're hurt!" Kimura exclaimed, seeing Efalyn stagger into the library.

Efalyn shook her head. "It's nothing. I just need to sit down." She slid back into her seat. "Anything interesting happen?" she asked.

"Not really," Kimura said. They spoke in Thrihyrnen Common, as they always did when they were alone. It didn't matter to the deities, who could understand any language, but neither woman really felt comfortable using everyday speech before their gods. They spoke the religious language, Old Thrihyrnen, and only lapsed into their village dialect when no-one else was around. "Chie was by to look at our progress on the Prophecies. She's very impressed, she said. I gather this place hasn't really been organised before."

"No-one here's been trained to do it," Efalyn said with a shrug. "Anything else?"

"It's been pretty quiet," Kimura said. "Some goddess came by with a question about one of the empty Realms. She seemed surprised to see me; she said something about how she didn't know there were Assistants here already. Isn't that odd? I mean, you've been assigned here practically since Lord Dekiru started sending Thrihyrni to the Hall."

Efalyn frowned. "Some goddess? Kimura--"

"I didn't recognise her," Kimura protested. "I'm not being disrespectful."

"We're supposed to know all their names and Roles," Efalyn said sternly. "How can we show them proper respect otherwise?"

Kimura nodded, biting her lip. "I'm sorry, Efalyn taellu. It won't happen again."

"No, it won't," Efalyn said. "Once you finish for the day, I want you to go through the Celestial Index and memorise all the names, Roles and aura colours. We can't have this sort of thing."

"No, honoured superior," Kimura agreed meekly.

Efalyn picked up one of the scrolls from the top of the unsorted pile. "Oh, look, this one's pretty recent. Mm--about ten years ago."

"I'm never going to get the hang of Omniversal time," Kimura muttered.

"Don't worry, it's easy," Efalyn said. "In a few months you'll forget you ever lived without the Festivals. Anyway, this was written on the Temple wall, Fifth Meeting--hm. It's in two parts, found a few days apart. 'And a storm shall break and the walls shall fall; a flood in the stream shall threaten all'. And then 'only lightning born of thunder will be able to brave the storm'." She gave "lightning" and "thunder" both feminine endings, as they were written. "What do you think?"

"If Lightning and Thunder are roles, it refers to deities," Kimura said promptly. "There hasn't been a Goddess of Thunder yet, though. Or Lightning. This must be a future one."

"If that's what it means, yes," Efalyn said. "All right, let's put this in the maybe pile. What's next?"

They worked in silence for a few minutes, and then Efalyn reached over and touched her apprentice's arm. "Kimura?"

Kimura looked up. "Yes, honoured superior?"

"Listen," Efalyn said. "I know you think I'm being hard on you--"

"No more than my teachers at the Institute," Kimura said with a shrug. "I know I have a lot to learn yet."

"Yes, but--well, I have a good reason, that's all," Efalyn said. "I won't be here with you for very long."

"You're being transferred out?" Kimura asked.

Efalyn smiled, a bit ruefully. "Something like that. Anyway, I just want to make sure you know what you're doing, because in a little while you're going to have to do this on your own."

"Thank you," Kimura said. "Do you know where you're--going?"

"Yes," Efalyn answered. "Dekiru told me." Of course, he may not know that he did. I could wish the vision had been less clear, but wishing never accomplished much. "I can't tell you, though. You understand."

"Of course." Efalyn had no doubt that Kimura did; they trained obedience into you at the Institute, along with filing and martial arts and staying in the background. Kimura picked up another scroll. "Come on, let's get the rest of these sorted out."

Struck by divine inspiration, were you? Liorcan grinned, hearing his brother's words once again in his mind. Dekiru was a blind idiot, but he occasionally came up with the seed of a good idea.

His luck was still with him; Travia wasn't on guard outside the Elders' chamber today. Instead it was one of the Thrihyrni Assistants. No doubt she could summon Travia in a moment if he tried to threaten her, but there were other ways to convince that kind. He put on his best godly expression and strode toward her. "I need to see the Elders," he declared.

"You can't see them now," the mortal said.

"They're meeting, aren't they?" Liorcan demanded, trying to see past her.

"Yes, they are, but it's a closed meeting, and Elder Hisan instructed--"

"This is important!" Liorcan shouted. He saw her brown eyes narrow, and moderated his voice. "I know I'm asking a lot. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't an emergency. Please, in Dekiru's name, you've got to let me in." That grated--it should have been him that the Thrihyrni revered--but it seemed to do the trick.

The woman sighed. "I'm going to regret this, I think, but you are his brother. All right." She stepped aside and opened the door.

Liorcan grinned at her. "Thanks. I mean it. I owe you."

"You certainly do. Go on before I change my mind."

He made his way quickly down the hallway to the Elders' chamber, stopped, and took a deep breath. He could hear raised voices from the other side of the door: Hisan and Rivus, it sounded like. Liorcan pulled out a small mirror from his pocket. His hair was mussed and his clothes wrinkled, as though he had just woken up. He smiled and opened the door.

Rivus saw him and stopped mid-shout, his face reddening. "Liorcan," he said, in a tone that somehow managed to equate the name with "slime". Obviously his presence here discomfited the River God greatly, though Liorcan couldn't see why. Hisan, Liorcan saw, looked amused. "What are you doing here? Kezier was instructed to keep everyone out."

"This isn't her fault," Liorcan said quickly. "Please, I need to speak to you."

"Officially?" Death asked.

"Yes. I know this is irregular--"

Hisan lifted a hand, and Liorcan stopped. "I say we listen to him," Hisan told the others, looking around the circular table. "It can't hurt." Rivus looked about to object, but said nothing. Hisan gestured to Liorcan. "Go ahead. But be brief."

"Thank you," Liorcan said. "Ancient Fire, I--"

"Skip it," Hisan said irritably. "Elder Hisan will be fine for now."

Liorcan bowed his head. "As you say, Elder. I came here tonight because I had a dream, and I didn't know what to make of it. I've never seen a vision before, so I don't know for sure whether it was one or not, but it was no ordinary dream, I'm certain of that."

He had their attention now; he could see that. Wego in particular was leaning forward, his pale face intent. "What did you dream, Liorcan?" the God of Snow asked.

"I was standing on an endless plain," Liorcan began. "It was dark, and all I could see was the grass around me and the stars high above. Then my brother was there, standing beside me. This is yours, he said, and raised his hand, and suddenly the plain was filled with people. What are you doing? I asked, but he gave me no answer.

"I began to run, trying to find my way out of the crowd, but they pressed close to me on all sides. Then, suddenly, I tripped and fell into a deep hole. I lay on my back, looking up at the stars, and I saw Dekiru's face lean over me. Now this is mine, he said, and the people began to throw handfuls of earth into the hole."

"You believe your brother is going to try to kill you?" Rivus asked incredulously.

You said it, not me, Liorcan thought gleefully. If the suggestion had come from himself, it would have been dismissed and ridiculed by the other Elders, but from Rivus-- "No, Ancient--no, Elder Rivus, I don't think so. Dekiru and I have our differences, but we have always been able to settle them amicably. I don't think it means that."

Rivus frowned. "Is there more to your dream, then?" Plainly he didn't really want to hear it.

"There is," Liorcan said. "As I lay there, there was suddenly a shout from the people and Dekiru was thrown into the hole beside me. This is mine, said a woman--she had yellow hair, I think." He shook his head. "I couldn't see who she was. But after a moment, she, too, fell into the hole."

"I would imagine the hole was getting fairly crowded by this time," Hisan commented drily.

Liorcan chose to ignore that. "It continued in that way; someone would claim that the land was theirs, and then eventually they would be thrown into the hole, or jump in, or fall."

"Dekiru's daughter Kuarosa has yellow hair, doesn't she?" Wego said. "Do you suppose this could be a dream of the future? Of succession, perhaps? If the land you were in looked like that Realm of your brother's, Liorcan--"

"Thrihyrne," Liorcan supplied. "I'm not sure. It might have been." He kept his face in the puzzled expression that he was so good at. The Elders, wise as they supposedly were, were going exactly in the direction he wanted.

"But Thrihyrne is not yours," Hisan pointed out.

"It could be." Liorcan turned and paced the length of the room, stopping at the end to turn on his heel and look at them. "Elders, on my way here, I had an idea of what the dream's meaning might be. I am not married. I have no intention of marrying. When a deity dies without an heir, his Realm goes to his closest blood relative: a sibling, a cousin, a niece or nephew. If Thrihyrne were mine, and I died without issue, it would pass to Dekiru."

"As I said," Hisan replied, "Thrihyrne is not yours. It was foretold at his birth that Dekiru--"

"I was there, Elder!" Liorcan interrupted, then bowed his head sharply. "I apologise, Elder Hisan. I didn't mean to speak out of line. But I was there; I saw the scry. It said that Dekiru would inherit Thrihyrne. It said nothing about who he would inherit it from. By tradition, I have precedence; the eldest child is supposed to inherit the Realm, and until Dekiru's birth, it was assumed that I would be the heir."

"True enough," Wego murmured. Hisan shot him a glare.

"Continue, Liorcan," she said coldly.

Liorcan spread his hands. "There's little more than that, Elder," he said. "I wanted only to inform you of my vision--"

"Your dream," Death corrected him. Liorcan bowed in his direction.

"Of course, Elder. I would not presume. My dream, then, and to tell you of my interpretation. Of course, it could easily be nothing, but if it was sent by the Creator--"

"We understand your reasoning," Hisan said. "You may go now." The words were mild, but her expression left no room for argument. She turned back to the others, dismissing Liorcan before he had taken so much as a step. "Now, Rivus, I believe you were speaking for Tenuto, were you not?"

Tenuto. Liorcan, turning, stumbled against the doorsill, losing his balance and windmilling his arms wildly for a moment before regaining his balance. The thought never crossed his mind that he looked ridiculous; he could think only of what Hisan had just said. Tenuto. Name of the Creator, Rivus has betrayed me! Somehow he managed to right himself, his mind reeling. Why would he do this? He promised! The bastard, he promised! What could make him change his mind?

There was only one thing that seemed likely. His brother must somehow have figured out what he was planning, and plotted this to thwart his plans. Dekiru's wife was Tenuto's sister; they were practically family. Liorcan's brother would have no difficulty convincing Tenuto to suggest himself as a candidate, and that idiot Rivus--Liorcan was honest with himself about his opinion of the River God, despite Rivus' promises--must have decided on Tenuto as a better candidate for some reason. It was all a plot against him.

That Tenuto would have had to have been in the running for weeks, at least, for him to be discussed at such a meeting never occurred to Liorcan. He was filled with rage. They'll pay, he told himself, as he formed a portal just outside the doors in defiance of protocol and stepped back to his father's Realm. Tenuto, and his stinking sister, and that senile fraud who calls himself an Elder. And Dekiru. He'll pay for this in blood before I'm through.

The portal closed behind him and vanished into the air. The Elders shifted in their chairs, murmuring uneasily. Only Death noticed the spark of triumph in Hisan's eye, and he, as usual, said nothing.

"What were you thinking?" Wego demanded, the little self-control he possessed long gone. "You told Liorcan you would support him?"

"It should have worked," Rivus muttered. "It was a good plan. The sessions are closed, he wouldn't have known until after it was done. I could have told him Tenuto was a compromise candidate, that Hisan wouldn't accept him. Liorcan would have been happy with Thrihyrne, and I would have had the use of the Assistants for nothing, and Liorcan would have resented Hisan, not me. It was such a good plan."

"Well, now what are you going to do?" Wego pressed.

Rivus frowned, then suddenly his expression brightened. Wego backed up a few steps, warily prepared to run; he knew that look. Rivus smiled. "I'm not going to do anything," he said. "You're going to speak to Liorcan for me."

"M--me?"

"Yes, you!" Rivus clapped him on the shoulder. Wego winced. "He doesn't know you were involved in any of this, so he'll at least hear you out, which I'm pretty sure he won't do for me at the moment, Elder or not. Find him and explain to him that it's all Hisan's fault, that she refused even to listen to me when I named him. Tell him we can still get him Thrihyrne. Tell him anything you want, just calm him down before he does something stupid and Tenuto finds out about this. We can still salvage all this, but we need to do it quickly."

"What about your emergency?" Wego asked.

"What?"

"Your emergency," Wego repeated. "The reason you wanted to move so quickly to present Tenuto in the first place. Is that still a problem?"

Afansi and Dar. Name of the Creator, he'd forgotten. "I'll take care of that. Just find Liorcan and get him to listen. We don't have a lot of time."

Travia was curled up on the sofa in a moth-eaten quilt, reading a novel and trying to pretend she wasn't worried, when she felt the tightness in the back of her mind that meant someone was trying to contact her. I'm here, she said, focusing.

It's Kezier, Lady Travia. Her Assistant, using the communication talisman that Dekiru had given her so that they could stay in contact. Lord Liorcan just left the Elders' chambers. I don't think--

What was he doing there? Travia demanded. I don't know, but he said it was an emergency and I thought--I mean, he's Lord Dekiru's brother, after all. I didn't think it would do any harm. But he seemed so angry when he left and I thought I'd better-- We are going to have a long talk about discipline when I see you next, Travia thought grimly. Did you see where he went?

No, Lady, he left by portal. I'm sorry.

All right. Make a full report in writing, I'll pick it up later. She cut off the link and flung the novel across the room.

"Problems?" Dekiru asked mildly, as the book hit the doorframe a foot from where he was standing.

"Liorcan's on the rampage," Travia said in disgust, "and that useless little mortal just let him in to see the Elders when I specifically told her--"

"Hey. Calm down." He crossed the spacious living room and sat down beside her on the sofa. She leaned against him, feeling suddenly drained. "Kezier's new. She's not used to dealing with deities, and especially not giving them orders. We really can't blame her."

"I know," Travia said. "I'm just worried."

"The kids are at Tenuto's," Dekiru pointed out. "If Liorcan wants to smash up the Hall, let him. The Elders will take care of him if he starts making too much of a fuss. We don't have to worry about that."

She nodded, feeling the tension drain out of her. He was right, of course. "I'm sorry, love. I'm just tense."

"I know. Tell you what," he stood up again, "I'll make us some sandwiches, and we can go take a walk. It's a beautiful day."

Travia smiled. "That would be lovely."

Dekiru stood up and was halfway to the door when he paused and turned back to her. At the same time, she felt the mental prick of a call, and saw by the sudden far-away look in his eyes that Dekiru had heard it too. Yes? she said, and heard her husband's simultaneous Who is it? in her mind.

Travia, Dekiru, it's me. The voice was Tenuto's, and he sounded worried. Is Kuarosa there with you?

No, she's not, Dekiru replied. Why, is something wrong?

She's gone missing. I thought she might have gone home. She seemed annoyed at being sent here, but I didn't think she'd run away so it didn't occur to me to shield the Realm. Dekiru, listen, I'm really sorry. I should have been keeping a better watch on her.

Not your fault, little brother, Travia said immediately. Just let us know if she comes back. We'll go looking. Karoshi's all right?

He's fine. He's sleeping.

Good. You stay there and keep an eye on him, then. We'll let you know if we find her. She didn't mention anywhere she might want to go? Did she ask if she could visit friends or anything?

No, nothing. There was a pause, and the faint mental static that always accompanied someone in a link thinking. You should start with the Bar, though. I've seen her there a lot lately. I can't remember who with, but--

The Hall, Dekiru thought, at the same time that Travia said, Liorcan. Dekiru--

We'll go, he said. Tenuto, thank you for telling us right away. We appreciate it.

If you need me to help you look--

No, you stay with Karoshi. I need you to look after him. We'll be in touch. He broke the link. He and Travia stared at each other.

"It could be nothing," Dekiru said aloud, clearly trying to reassure himself as well as his wife. "She's fourteen. She's probably just gone off to see her friends in some other Realm. Besides, the Elders have almost certainly got Liorcan under control."

"Maybe," Travia agreed grimly. She touched her jacket, making sure the concealed knives were still in place. "Let's get to the Hall."

Efalyn walked slowly down the corridor, lost in thought. The day had been very long, and she was tired. All she wanted now was to lie down and sleep.

She was nearly back to her quarters when she saw a light under the Library door. Curious, she pushed the door open. One of the lamps was lit, at the table where she and Kimura had been working, and a man in a dark cloak stood looking at the untidily piled scrolls.

"Excuse me, Lord," Efalyn said uncertainly, because she didn't recognise him from the back. "Those are organised--"

The man turned to her, and she was momentarily transfixed by the lamplight reflecting from his green eyes. His hair had a greenish tint to it as well, she noticed, and his voice when he spoke was soft. "I'm not a Lord, Efalyn tael," he said, stepping forward around the corner of the table.

Efalyn stared at him. He spoke in the Omniversal language, that strange tongue that all the deities used, and that somehow she understood when she was with them but could never remember after. But he had used a Thrihyrnen title for her, tael, "comrade-in-service", and no god or goddess had ever deigned to learn even that much of her speech, or would use that term if they did. "You're a mortal?" she asked, hardly believing it. "But you're not--"

"I'm not an Assistant, no," he said.

"Then how did you get here?"

He shook his head. "It's not important."

"I think it is," Efalyn said sharply, and the stranger blinked. "I'll have to call Travia down here and find out what to do with you."

"Travia--she's Police, isn't she?" the man asked. "Dekiru's wife, Tenuto's sister--yes, of course."

"Be respectful," Efalyn snapped. "If you aren't one of the gods, you shouldn't speak of them that way."

"Don't be a hypocrite," he shot back. "You don't respect them either, most of them."

"Of course I do," Efalyn said, confused. "Well, most of--I mean, they're the gods, they--" She glared at him. "What do you want from me, anyway?"

The stranger shook his head. He looked tired. "Believe it or not, I'm not here for anything to do with you. Will you sit?" He pulled out a chair, sat down, gestured to another. Numbly, Efalyn sat.

"Now, this is what I need," he said. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, new and crackly. He unfolded it; it was a map of the Omniverse, with the Realms marked in different colours. The ink looked odd, somehow, but she wasn't sure exactly how. "The Realm of Earth has been vacant for some time, hasn't it?"

She nodded. "Since the beginning, I think. I don't think anyone's ever used it."

"Good. Some people are going to be arriving there in a short while--some deities, I should say. A family. They'll be there awhile, possibly a year or more. I need you to get everything in order to allow them to stay; we don't want someone else laying claim to the Realm while they're there. You have access to the Records, it shouldn't be hard for you."

"I--" The audacity of the request took her breath away, and it was several moments before she could find words. "You can't just come in here and ask me to do that! No-one except the Elders can assign Realms!"

"All you need to do is put it in the Records that this Realm is in use," he insisted. "No-one will question it too closely. I promise."

Efalyn shook her head. "I won't do it. I can't. I don't even know who you are, you don't have the authority--"

The stranger looked at her, and she stopped. There was something else in his expression now, a terrible sadness. "How is Lady Kuarosa, Efalyn?" he asked.

She jumped to her feet, nearly knocking over the lamp. The stranger grabbed it with one hand and snatched away one of the scrolls with the other. It was the recent one that she and Kimura had been looking at that afternoon, the one about lightning and thunder. "Careful," the stranger snapped. "We're going to need that later."

"How--how did you know?" Efalyn whispered. "My vision--I didn't say anything to anyone, not even Kuarosa, not even Lord Dekiru and he sent it to me--"

"He didn't send it to you," the stranger said. "It was the Creator, I think." His mouth twitched ironically. "He doesn't often speak to mortals; you should be honoured. At any rate, will you accept that I have the authority to speak on this?"

"I--I suppose," Efalyn said reluctantly. "All right, suppose I do put it in the Records that this--this family is using Earth. What do I tell the other deities? They're going to wonder where these people came from."

"That's actually the easy part," the stranger said with a rueful grin. "The gods may be powerful, but they have certain blindnesses that can be used. Tell them the family's from Away."

"Away?"

He nodded. "Just tell them that. They'll accept it."

She was dubious, but let it pass. "All right. I don't like this, but you--if Dekiru or the Creator told you about my vision, then they must trust you, and I suppose that means I have to. I'll make the arrangements. When will they arrive?"

"Soon," the stranger said. "Once all this blows over." He saw her puzzled look, and added quickly, "The succession, I mean. It's best to wait until things are settled and the Sixth Meeting has begun."

He stood, replacing the scroll carefully on the table and pocketing the map again. "Thank you, Efalyn tael," he said. He reached over and put a hand on her arm. She stared up at him, unable to move. "Whatever happens," he said, "remember that the Creator never asks more of us than we can give. If the burden is too heavy, he will understand."

Efalyn nodded, not really sure what he was talking about. He straightened and looked over his shoulder.

Out of the shadows stepped a woman, dressed in white and red. The stranger took her arm, and she smiled at him. That, to Efalyn, was the strangest thing she had seen yet tonight. He was a mortal, despite his colouring, but there was no doubt that she was a goddess. But there was tenderness in her expression, and even something more than that. The scene was like something out of an old story, or a dream. The goddess looked once at Efalyn, nodded solemnly, and then lifted her hand. A white-coloured portal appeared before her, and the two of them stepped through and disappeared.

"I wanted to tell her, you know," he said, as they emerged in sunlight.

She nodded, squeezing his hand. "I know. I'm sorry. You had to bring up her vision to convince her, didn't you? The one Mary told you about, from their stories about her?"

"Hell, Hichan, she thought I was the Creator incarnate or something," he said, shaking his head. "I tried to warn her. It doesn't have to happen this way. What's her death going to change, one way or the other? She could live, it wouldn't make a difference."

"Do you think you did change things, Yellow?" Hichan asked. Even after all this time, she still wasn't entirely sure exactly what he could do.

He shook his head. "No."

The mortal bartender Ruth scuttled into a back room as Liorcan stormed into the Bar. Paying no attention to her, he grabbed a bottle of nectar and a glass from the shelf and stomped over to a table, pouring himself a generous splash as he sat down. He didn't really feel like drinking, but at least here no-one was going to be staring at him. No-one was going to laugh.

He imagined the Elders were laughing at him right now. They must have found it vastly amusing that he'd fallen for Rivus' silky promises. They must all have been in on the joke; he'd seen the way Hisan looked at him, the way Wego wouldn't meet his eyes. They thought it was funny. They thought he was an idiot, and the worst of it was, they were nearly right. He had been stupid.

His glass was empty, and he filled it again. How could he have been so blind? What had ever made him think any of them were to be trusted? He glared at the vacant tables around the room. The bartender peeked out from the storeroom door and then disappeared back inside when she saw him still sitting there.

Liorcan didn't know exactly how long he'd been in the Bar when someone crossed his now-slightly-wavering field of view. "Malianh," he growled. He didn't have anything in particular against the pewter-haired Numina, but he didn't like him much, either.

Malianh heard, and turned toward him. "Liorcan," he said affably. "How are you doing?"

"It's all a lie!" Liorcan snapped.

Malianh blinked. "Huh?"

"The succession. They're liars, all of them. They were laughing at me. That--that unsanctioned, blasphemous--"

"What are you talking about?" Malianh interrupted him. "Liorcan, if you--"

"Rivus and Hisan," Liorcan said distinctly. "Were speaking for Tenuto. For the succession. It's all a lie."

"Hisan?" Malianh said. "I think you're confused."

"It's a lie. They all lied. They never intended--he said he'd speak for me!"

"Who? Rivus?" Malianh was trying to follow Liorcan's wandering train of thought, but the God of Rocks didn't seem to be making much sense. "He put your name before the Elders?"

"He never planned to," Liorcan snapped. "He said he would but he didn't. They're going to name Tenuto. They've decided. They're all in on it. Death, Hisan, Rivus--all of them."

"Hisan?" Malianh repeated incredulously. "How can you--Hisan?"

"All of them," Liorcan growled. "Think about it. It's true."

Malianh studied his face and saw no hint of deception there. Liorcan wasn't lying. Malianh swayed, trying to process it. It fit, it all fit. The rules about keeping everything secret, Hisan's unwillingness to give him any certainties about his selection--it made sense, in a horrible, twisted way. If the Elders were all corrupt, that would explain everything.

"But--but--" he stammered. "How can they do that? How can they not get caught?"

"Who's going to catch them?" Liorcan demanded. "Police? She's his sister! No-one's going to do one damned thing!"

In that moment, Malianh made up his mind. He couldn't let all their plans fall apart now. "No," he said grimly. "They're not going to do anything. But I know who will."

They didn't have to wait long; within minutes, a group of eight or nine Numina came through the door, Yajji and Barrett among them. The bearded god was clearly incensed about something. "--right up against the wall!" he was telling Yajji and the others. "He wouldn't have done that if I'd had powers!"

"True," Yajji said grimly.

"Someone ought to teach people like him a lesson," Barrett continued, gesturing vehemently. "He's got no right to push people around just because they can't push back. And giving me orders as though I'm some sort of--of mortal or something!"

Yajji raised an eyebrow. "Did you follow his orders?"

"Well, yes, of course," Barrett muttered. "But that's the point! He shouldn't tell us to do things just because he knows we'll do what he says!" He paused, confused; there was a hole in that logic somewhere. Yajji sighed.

"This is why we chose Malianh as our candidate," she pointed out. Then, seeing him, "Malianh! And Liorcan. How--nice."

"It's all right, Yajji," Malianh said quickly. "He's on our side."

There was muttering from all the Numina at that. "He has powers," someone said.

"He's been duped by the Elders exactly the same as we have," Malianh snapped. "Listen to him. You need to hear this, all of you."

They listened incredulously as Liorcan told his disjointed story again. "He's crazy," Yajji said when he had finished. "Hisan would never--"

"How do you know that?" Malianh demanded. "It makes sense. You've barely spoken to her, you don't know. She never tells anyone what she's really up to. I believe Liorcan."

"And you're sure Hisan and Rivus both planned this?" Yajji asked, looking at Liorcan. He nodded impatiently. Yajji closed her eyes briefly. "All right. If that's true, if she never even intended to name Malianh as a candidate, then our original plan is useless. Barrett?"

"I agree," he said.

"Telos? Mbelan? Uyat?" She went through the group, and each of them nodded as she looked at them. "We're agreed, then. We'll try the alternate plan."

"What alternate plan?" Malianh asked. Yajji didn't seem to hear him. He touched her arm. "Yajji? What plan?"

"You'd better go back to Cwelig," Yajji replied. "You probably shouldn't be involved in this. There may still be a chance to salvage things, and it's better if you're not here."

The door of the Bar opened, and everyone looked up, some suspicious, some frightened. Malianh couldn't understand the sudden tension in the group--obviously whatever this alternate plan was, they all knew about it but him.

"Kuarosa!" Liorcan snarled.

Yajji put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Easy, Liorcan."

"She's that bastard Tenuto's niece," Liorcan said through clenched teeth.

"She's one of us," Yajji said firmly. "Even if Tenuto is Hisan and Rivus' puppet, Kuarosa's on our side." She waved. "Kuarosa! Good. You're just in time."

"Sorry I'm late," the girl said breathlessly. "I'm staying at my stupid uncle's and I had to sneak out. What'd I miss?"

Malianh and Yajji looked at each other.

"Come on," Yajji said at last, to the group at large. "I think it's time we had a little talk with our so-called leaders. Kuarosa, did you get what I asked you to?"

The girl nodded, touching her jacket. "Yeah, but--"

"Good." Yajji held out her hand, and Kuarosa reluctantly took out a cloth-wrapped bundle. Yajji unfolded it and began removing leather-bound knives and distributing them to the group. Hands reached out eagerly to take them.

"No!" Malianh snapped. "Yajji, you said you weren't going to do anything stupid."

"We're not," Yajji answered calmly. "We're just going to talk to the Elders. But we don't know what they'll do when we try to reveal their plans, and you know we're hopelessly overmatched without powers of our own. These are--insurance, that's all." She took one of the knives and stuck it in her belt. From the way the others carried theirs, they had plainly practiced with them. "Go back to Cwelig, Malianh. If something does go wrong, there should be someone who knows about this and isn't in a place where they can be reached easily."

"You're crazy," Malianh said, but looking around, he saw that he wasn't going to be able to stop them. "All right, fine. If you go, I'm going with you. Someone has to keep a level head in this mess."

"I'm going too," Kuarosa stated. Yajji glared at her. Plainly this had been a point of contention. "Yajji, Travia's my mom. If they try to arrest us, I can speak for us."

"You don't really think she's going to listen to you, do you, Kuarosa?" Barrett snorted. "You're a child!"

Kuarosa glared at him. "I'm fourteen!"

"Like I said."

"Go home, Kuarosa," Yajji said firmly.

Kuarosa put her hands on her hips. "Make me."

"Oh, let her come," one of the other Numina said. "Let's just go." Heads nodded agreement. Hands fingered hilts. Liorcan's aura flared dimly around him. Malianh shivered as he fell in behind the others. This is going to be bad, he thought. I just hope Yajji can keep them under control. This is going to be very bad.

"This is the second time today that you've called us here, Rivus," Hisan said, looking somewhat irritated as she took her seat. "Where's Wego?"

Trying to find Liorcan before Tenuto finds out what we've done. "I--don't know, Hisan. I told him he should come."

"Doesn't he consider this matter important?" Hisan pressed sweetly.

Rivus forced a smile. "Wego has already made his views clear to the Elders. Perhaps he felt it was unnecessary to restate them. He supports my nomination of Tenuto."

"And you didn't want him here in case he said something offensive and prejudiced us against your candidate," Death said matter-of-factly.

Rivus stared; that thought had never occurred to him, but it was a way out. He grasped it, smiling sheepishly. "Wego is impetuous, Death. We all know that. There's no reason to let his--excitability ruin our deliberations."

"Indeed," Hisan murmured. "He will, of course, have to be present for the actual voting. I suspect even you wouldn't bend Omniversal Law that far."

She's going to agree! With an effort, Rivus kept his face expressionless. "Of course not, Hisan. I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good." Hisan stood. When she spoke again, there was a formality in her tone that had not been there before. "We can assume from the absence of Wego, God of Snow, that he does not wish to propose another candidate. Rivus, God of Rivers, what name will you lay before the Elders?"

Rivus bowed, seated. "I wish to present the name of Tenuto, God of Music."

"I, Hisan, Goddess of Fire, wish to present the name of Malianh, Numina," Hisan continued. "Death, God of Death, do you wish to propose a candidate?"

"I do not," Death replied, his hands folded on the table.

"Then we may declare the nominations closed. If there are no objections?" She waited. "I so declare. Two candidates have been named: Tenuto, God of Music, and Malianh, Numina." She dropped out of formal speech, but remained standing, looking down at the other two. Rivus nearly snickered; no doubt Hisan thought she was being subtle. It would take more than oratorical tricks to sway him. "Now that that's done with, we have a decision to make."

"Indeed," Rivus said. If she wanted to lead the meeting, he was willing to let her; it would make no difference.

"We all know that you're Wego's patron," Hisan continued. "If Tenuto were chosen, he would be dependent on you as well. Perhaps not to such a great extent as Wego is--Tenuto is a strong-willed man, I know him and his daughter well--but the three of you would be inclined to vote together, and to have a majority of the Elders under the control of one voice is a perversion of the Law. I cannot countenance it."

"On the other hand," Rivus countered calmly, seeing that she wasn't about to give in immediately, "Malianh would be even more under your control if he were chosen, being a Numina and powerless."

"I fail to see the relevance," Hisan said mildly. "When was the last time any one of us used our powers within this room?"

"That's beside the point and you know it," Rivus snapped. "He'd be completely dependent on you for his authority. None of the other deities would respect him for any reason other than that he enjoys your patronage. That would leave Death with the deciding vote in any matter on which you and I disagree, and there are those who believe that he would side with you on most things. Some, after all, consider him to be of your generation." Silently Rivus thanked Wego for that idea, even if it was stupid.

"That's a matter of opinion," Death said dryly. "Nor is it relevant. Get back to the point."

"If I may," Hisan said, just as Rivus started to speak again. "Malianh has far more support than you would think."

Rivus snorted. "He's a Numina."

"Precisely. Do you know how many Numina there are, Rivus?" She waited, smiling. "I thought not. To be honest, he'll probably have more popular support than any of us. You needn't worry on that score. He'll need to be an independent voice, because so many will be watching him."

"Tenuto is equally capable of being independent," Rivus stated, unwilling to give ground. "You said yourself, he's strong-willed."

"Oh, indeed," Hisan said. "And while I realise he'll have no ties of blood or loyalty to anyone other than you as his patron--" She must have seen something, a flicker in his eyes, because she smiled. "After all, he isn't a blood relative of anyone here, and while Wego does have an eligible son, Tenuto no longer has a marriageable daughter, so--"

Rivus stared at her. "What?"

"Oh, didn't you know?" Hisan said off-handedly. "Afansi and Dar were married today. Rather sweet, really; they've both agreed to see the Healers, to prevent their ever having dangerous children. I gather it will have been done by now."

"Yes, but how did you--" With an effort, Rivus checked himself. "I see," he said stiffly.

"But Wego doesn't, does he?" Hisan continued, her tone still bland. "It would be terribly unfortunate if he found out that you'd been keeping things from him."

"Are you trying to blackmail me?" Rivus asked incredulously.

She smiled again. "Of course not. I have no intention--"

"--closed meeting of the Elders!" someone shouted from outside the door. Another voice said something indistinct, and then the first one rose again: "--authority of Lady Travia! How dare you threaten--"

Hisan crossed the floor in three swift steps and flung the doors open on a scene of confusion. A red-bearded deity with a drawn knife held a brown-haired mortal woman pinned against the wall, while another mortal pulled ineffectually at his arm--it was apparently she who had been shouting. The mortals seemed to be Travia's Assistant and another one that Chie had lent as extra security, to make sure the Elders were undisturbed after Liorcan's earlier interruption. Apparently two mortals were only slightly more effective than one. Malianh and another deity, Yajji, were trying to argue with the bearded man, who Hisan belatedly recognized as being called Barrett, and a clump of several others watched the scene in silence. Liorcan was among them, and the child Kuarosa, looking out of place in the armed group, though she herself was armed as well.

"What's the meaning of this?" Hisan snapped, cutting through the noise. Everyone turned to look at her.

"We demand to speak to the Elders," Yajji said in a clear voice.

"You may speak," Hisan said. Rivus opened his mouth, and Hisan shot a glare back at him, then returned her gaze to Yajji. "You may speak. I take it you're the spokesperson for this--gathering. Come in and address the Elders, then, and the rest of you sit down."

Reluctantly, they obeyed. There weren't enough chairs for everyone, and Kuarosa and most of the others ended up sitting against the wall while Barrett and Liorcan took the two unclaimed seats. The two mortals glanced at each other, then entered the room as well, taking up positions on either side of the door like some kind of honour guard.

Liorcan frowned at them. "What right do mortals have to be here?" he demanded.

"The same right as you, I'd say," Hisan replied, "considering none of you were invited. Be quiet and let Yajji speak, Liorcan. You've already caused enough trouble for one day."

"And I suppose his opening our eyes to your treachery counts as causing trouble, does it?" Yajji asked tartly. Malianh closed his eyes. Hisan began to reply, but suddenly everyone was speaking at once.

Efalyn was trying to follow the gods' argument when she heard a knock on the door. Glancing at Kezier, her fellow guard, she opened it a crack to see Lady Travia and Lord Dekiru in the hall.

"We were already at the Hall when Kezier called me," Travia told her. "Thank you for being so prompt." Kezier nodded, and stepped back so that the two could enter the room. Only one person seemed to notice them.

"Mom!" Kuarosa's hands flew to hide the knife at her belt. "This isn't what it looks like. I swear."

Liorcan noticed them then. "Dekiru," he growled, and without warning leapt forward, his aura glittering silver-grey around him. Travia threw herself sideways, tackling her husband and bearing him to the ground with her. "Unsanctioned traitor!" Liorcan was shouting. "You did this to me!"

"Everyone stay calm," Travia snapped. "Liorcan, don't do this. We can discuss this."

"This is your fault too, Travia, you and your brother!" Liorcan growled. "You were both in on this, weren't you! You and the Elders and--and--it should have been mine!" With an inarticulate roar, he flung out his hands, and a vortex of gritty particles spiralled out like a miniature sandstorm.

Efalyn was knocked over by the force of the wind and found herself on the floor against the far wall, trying to shield her eyes from the flying sand. She could see between her fingers that Travia had thrown a shield around herself and Kezier, and that Hisan was readying herself to attack Liorcan from behind. She could see Kuarosa edging forward behind Hisan, apparently angling for a better view of the battle. Hisan's aura flared, and at almost the same moment Liorcan flung a shield around himself. The shield had an odd look, like dull grey stone or packed sand, but with a faint silver sheen--

Stone.

Glass.

Mirrors.

Kuarosa.

"Hisan, no!" Efalyn shouted, too late. As if in slow motion, she saw the Goddess of Fire reach out her hand, saw the shield around Liorcan bend and flare.

There was time, there was still time. Everyone was moving so slowly. There was time for Efalyn to leap across the intervening space and shove Kuarosa aside, but not time to throw herself out of danger as well. This was the vision. This was the time to act.

She couldn't do it.

Time speeded up. Frozen in place, Efalyn watched, horrified, as fire splashed against Liorcan's shield and bounced back. Hisan had already hit the floor. Efalyn saw Kuarosa jerk her head up in terror, her lips forming the outline of a scream, and now Efalyn did move, trying desperately to reach the young goddess before the blast did. It was a valiant effort, even then, but neither mortal nor goddess could move faster than flame.

Dekiru saw through a haze of grief and fury that Travia had drawn knives and was struggling to reach Liorcan, her teeth bared in a snarl of rage, held back by four of the deities who had been watching. He saw Liorcan's shield buckling as Hisan grimly sent blast after blast of energy against it. He saw the Numina huddled behind pieces of overturned furniture, horrified at the outcome of their brief rebellion.

None of it mattered.

Kuarosa.

His hands were slick with her blood as he crouched over her, trying desperately to revive her with what little healing ability he had. Portals flickered as the Healers, summoned almost as soon as she had fallen, rushed into the room.

Someone put a hand on his shoulder, drew him away from the body. The Healer kneeling with her hand on Kuarosa's burned face looked up, her expression anguished. Dekiru couldn't hear what she said to him. A high, thin screaming seemed to fill his ears.

His two mortals were standing over the body, aghast. Efalyn was sobbing. "I'm sorry," she said over and over. "I'm sorry. I couldn't. I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have saved her," Kezier said consolingly. "Efalyn taellu, you did what you could."

Efalyn shook her head. "No. No." She was shivering.

Kezier looked beseechingly at her god. "Lord Dekiru, please tell her she couldn't have stopped this--" Her voice trailed off as Dekiru studied her. His mind was empty of words.