Storm Rising

could be done at all. He had one last chance to win the Shin'a'in back.

Silverfox reclined indolently in the hot pool several days later, after having given Firesong a profoundly satisfying demonstration of at least one of a kestra'chern's sets of skills. 'I fear we have annoyed one set of your artificers with our arrival,' he said lazily.

'Oh?' Firesong was feeling too pleased to be annoyed at the mention of the artificers. 'How is that? From all I hear, your mages are getting along splendidly with them. It's a bit awkward cramming Treyvan and Hydona into the room so that there are enough translators, but so far as I've heard that's the only thing like a problem.'

'Oh, it is the ones who are messing about with boilers and steam,' Silverfox chuckled. 'I must admit I fail to see the attraction; the only places I care to have steam are in the kitchen, in the steam- house, and rising above the waters of a soaking-pool.'

Firesong laughed. 'Oh, I understand what the trouble is. That girl Natoli and her friends were helping the steam fanatics when you arrived, but now they are crawling all over your floating barge, day or night. And when they are not examining the barge, they are trying to take apart some of the other useful things you brought with you. In the meantime, they have deserted the steam proponents to learn what mechanical wonders you have devised.'

'That is why we brought artisans, dear friend,' Silverfox retorted, with a half-smile. 'So that the rest of us do not have to attempt to explain what we do not understand. So far as I know or care, it is all magic!' He laughed. 'I told one of them that it is all run by magic smoke. When the smoke escapes, the object ceases to function!'

Firesong had to laugh at that, too—since most of the mechanical contrivances of the artificers normally emitted great quantities of smoke when they stopped working, exploded or burned to the ground, especially the ones powered by steam boilers.

'Your friend An'desha has been making himself invaluable to them, so they tell me,' Silverfox added.

Firesong's thoughts darkened at the mention of An'desha's name, and he controlled his expression to avoid giving himself away. He had been paying Silverfox his exclusive attentions in the hope that if anything would bring An'desha back it would be jealousy, but to his dismay, An'desha actually seemed pleased and relieved to see him so often in the kestra'chern's company. His last attempt to fix An'desha's wandering attention had certainly not turned out the way he had thought it would. In fact, another kink in his plans had developed, for when An'desha was not translating for the k'Leshya, he was most often in the company of the Sworn-Shaman, which certainly put paid to any hopes of weaning him away from his growing mysticism!

Yesterday he'd decided to bury the remains of the relationship before they began to stink, although he was not at all happy about the end of it. That really only left him back in the same position he'd been in when the k'Leshya delegation arrived. Either he resign himself to a life predominately alone, or—

Or I find a way to extend that life and even my odds of finding my lifebonded.

Just as his thoughts took that grimmer turn, however, Silverfox stretched languidly, striking an unconsciously provocative pose that distracted him. Steam veiled Silverfox's head and torso, giving him an air of mystery. 'You've been rather quiet and subdued for the past several days,' the kestra'chern observed. 'If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were brooding over something, but you keep saying it's only the weather. Is the weather here really depressing you that much?'

'Oh it isn't the weather, really—at least it isn't the primary problem,' Firesong found himself admitting. 'I do confess that I hate leaving all that snow where I have to look at it every moment, though. Back in our Vale you'd never know it was winter unless you went outside the protected area, and I generally managed to avoid that in bad weather.'

'Hmm.' Silverfox stretched again, arching his back and closing his eyes for a moment. 'Still. There's something rather pleasant about being in here, where it's warm and comfortable, and being able to look out there and know that if you don't want to subject yourself to miserable weather, you don't have to. Don't you think?'

Firesong shrugged uncomfortably. 'I said it wasn't the primary problem.'

'So what is depressing you?' Somehow Silverfox had managed in all his stretching to work around behind Firesong, and began massaging his tense shoulders with strong, skillful fingers. 'Perhaps I can help.'

'What depresses anyone?' he countered with irritation. 'I'm shay'a'chern, alone, surrounded by people who have paired off comfortably—Elspeth and Darkwind, Treyvan and Hydona, Karal and Natoli, Selenay and Daren, Kerowyn and Eldan—and gods save us, Talia and Dirk, who are mature parents and quite old enough not to be mooning over each other like a pair of romantic teenagers! Everywhere I look I'm surrounded by hopeless romantics!'

'And here you are, a bird with a perfectly charming nest and no one to share it with.' Silverfox managed to make that sound sympathetic without being syrupy. 'I understand that's enough to depress anyone.'

'The lifebonded couples are the worst,' Firesong continued acidly. 'There seem to be more of those here than is decent by anyone's standards.'