appeared between two figures: one a Chapalii lord, the other so swathed in robes that Diana could not see one single millimeter of skin nor even the suggestion of eyes or a face.
Suzanne's whole body was canted toward the window, as if she wished mightily to press herself up against it in order to get a better look, but dared not move. Chills ran up Diana's spine. A seam appeared in the smooth surface of the oval. The lord ventured forward, hesitant, and Soerensen came with him, close enough that Diana could judge by his height that the egg was about a meter tall-just over half as tall as he was. The duke had a peculiar expression on his face, as if the air smelled bad in the white chamber and he had to endure it. The robed figure glided around to the other side of the egg. The curtain stirred and rustled back to silence. She saw no sign of Marco or David.
The top half of the container sheened from white into a glowing translucence. Through it, Diana caught a glimpse of a tiny object squirming. Soerensen edged closer to the egg. His eyes widened as he watched something within. The Chapalii lord moved closer to him and spoke, and Soerensen started. He extended both hands. Diana detected the slightest hesitation, and then Soerensen placed both hands, palms down, onto the glowing surface of the egg.
'Marking it,' Suzanne said under her breath, evidently unable to contain herself. 'He's sealing the act of witness, that the heir is alive and viable. Can you see it?' The older woman was wound so tight that Diana could feel her exhilaration, like waves roiling off her that struck and eddied with Diana's own excitement.
At the touch of Soerensen's hands, the top surface of the container dissolved into a swell of steam and then nothing. He bent at the waist, almost overbalanced, and together, as one, the three of them-the duke, the lord, and the robed figure-bent down to examine what lay within. The beaded curtain rustled and the woodwind voice spoke a long phrase, so musical that it seemed more like a melody than a sentence. Suzanne winced.
'What-?' Diana began softly, but Suzanne only waved her away impatiently.
'Damn, hell, chaib,' she hissed, whispering, 'but I can't understand them.'
The Chapalii lord straightened. He held in his hands a small, white, wriggling thing, an exact, miniature version of himself. That brief glimpse they gained; then the robed figure fluttered forward and the child was restored to the egg. Soerensen retreated. A glow domed the empty crown of the egg, solidified, and sealed off the container again. A seam shut. The wall darkened and became the frieze of animals and plants. Another seam opened, this one leading into the passageway.
'I think we're being asked to leave,' said Suzanne, and then she said something more, in Chapalii, but there was no response from behind the curtain.
Sparks flashed around Diana's feet as she crossed back into the passageway. The seam shut behind them, leaving the two women alone in the corridor. Suzanne let out a great sigh. Her face shone; she looked replete with satisfaction. Diana felt weak in the knees, but she also floated, so amazed, so elated by what she had just experienced that she hardly needed to touch the ground in order to walk.
'Which reminds me,' said Suzanne suddenly, 'before they get back, and because you look like a sensible girl. Let me give you some advice about Marco.' The older woman might as well have slapped her, for all that the friendly tone of the words stung Diana, for all that they brought her hard down to earth. 'He's not arrogant, he doesn't count coup. He just likes women. He never sets out to deliberately hurt anyone, but he lives rather at the mercy of his… appetites. It's the same urge that makes him go exploring. He just can't stand to see virgin ground go untouched. He just has to see what lies over the other side of the hill. He's charming and attractive, and he is sincere, in his own way. Just don't think that you're going to be any different than the other ones-that's the trap.' Then she shrugged. 'Sorry. I'm sure you didn't want to hear that. Just remember that we were all at university-that we were your age-well before you were born.'
Before Diana could respond, the other seam opened and Marco and David and Soerensen emerged, escorted by four stewards. A tangible scent of sulfur wafted from the duke. Marco blinked at Diana, offered her a smile, and then walked on with the Chapalii escort, clearly preoccupied by this major turn of events. Diana followed the others meekly, endured their taut silence in the lift that shaded to pink and dumped them off in the passenger levels, and then escaped to make her own way back to the stateroom she shared with Hal and Quinn and Oriana.
'You smell funny,' said Hal as she came in.
Quinn looked up from the game of Go they were playing. 'Where've you been? Off assignating with the intrepid explorer? Oh, don't think we haven't noticed him nosing around.'
'Oh, be quiet,' snapped Diana. She flung herself down on the bunk and stared at the wall. 'I just witnessed the birth of a Chapalii lord's heir.''
Oriana snorted, and Hal and Quinn laughed. 'That's good,' said Quinn. 'Try another one.'
Diana buried her head in her arms and wished that they would arrive on Rhui, and at the city of Jeds, as quickly as possible. But then she smiled to herself. What did she care if they believed her or not? She knew what she had witnessed. And this was only the beginning of the adventure.
CHAPTER FOUR
David came out to the battlements of the palace to get away from the audience room. He couldn't stand stuffy rooms, and he particularly disliked the obsequiousness with which the Jedan nobles treated Charles. Not that Charles seemed to like it, mind, but it grated on David after a while. He leaned against the sea wall, letting the spray mist his face and hair, and pulled his cloak around himself to ward off the cold. Clouds hung low over the crowded harbor of Jeds, off to his left. Beyond the harbor, the city crawled up and down the hills like a rank animal-or at least, that was how David always thought of it. They had been here two months now, and he saw no reason to change his opinion.
He slipped his sketchpad out from under his cloak and opened it to the page he had just been working on: a sketch of Charles seated in the audience hall, with Marco at his right and two Jedan guards behind him.
'Oh, hello, David.'
He turned to greet Diana Brooke-Holt. She also wore a cloak, but it billowed up from her shoulders, lifted by the wind, lending her entrance a dramatic flair. 'Coming out to take the air?'
But her gaze went immediately to the sketchpad. 'You drew that! That's wonderful!'
David shrugged. He was always embarrassed when people admired his sketching, because he knew he had a dilettante's skill, not a true artist's. But Diana's interest was infectious.
'Is there more?' Without really asking for permission, she flipped the pages back. ' 'That's the north front of the palace. Look how wonderful the architectural details are. You're really good.'
'Thank you,' murmured David.
She paused too long on a study of Marco, got a self-conscious look on her face, and hastily turned to another page. 'You can record the expedition this way, can't you? Out in the open.'
'It's true,' he agreed, and then she turned another page and there found-herself.
'Oh,' she said.
'Do you like it?' asked David, feeling violently shy all of a sudden.
Diana did him the honor of studying the sketch for some moments in silence. But then she got a grin on her face, and she struck a pose and pressed a palm to her chest. ' 'Oh, wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! and yet again wonderful! and after that, out of all whooping!' '
David laughed. 'Which reminds me. How is the acting business in this town?'
She laughed in turn. 'We're a great success. A soldout house every night. Lords and merchants showering the actresses with gifts, flowers and jewels and gowns and expensive baskets of fruit. Poor Yomi has to tag and catalog and return the nonperishable items.' She rested her back against the stone and brushed her golden hair back away from her face. The sun, behind her, set into the bay, casting a golden-red echo across the waters, staining the clouds pink. Was she unconscious of the effect she caused, of the way any man might linger to watch her, to wonder? Diana had a bright face, full of warmth, and the cut of her tunic and skirt, while conservative, lent her figure a pleasing grace. David was not surprised that Marco-in the limited free time that they'd had-put himself in her way. Not that he'd had any success, that David had heard of. But there is pleasure given freely and with a whole heart between friends, and there is a subtle form of coercion that some people see fit to call romance. David did not believe in romance, but he suspected that Diana did. Diana grinned at him; was she aware of the way his
