Scalza was furiously jealous but never considered acting upon that bleak emotion.
And Nepanthe, typical of adults in such circumstances, remained oblivious. Her perception of the children’s development ran wel behind the actuality, especial y there in the splendid isolation of Fangdred.
Ekaterina was quiet but not a dark soul, and she was wise enough already to understand that, romantic as the notion might be, she would not be the one to liberate her cousin from his prisons of grief and guilt.
“Aunt.”
Startled, Nepanthe blurted, “What?”
“Ethrian is remembering.”
Nepanthe shot to her feet. She found Ekaterina positioned to keep her from charging Ethrian, to interrupt the process at work.
Nepanthe was having a day where emotion did not rule her completely. “Oh. Yes. I shouldn’t disturb him.” Scalza kicked in, “He’l heal faster if you let him alone.” He shot his sister a look.
Ekaterina acknowledged the help with poor grace. She foresaw sabotage later.
She was complex. She did not understand that her brother was not. What he showed his smal world was ninety percent of Scalza.
Ekaterina suggested, “Aunt, why don’t you just keep an eye on that man while Scalza thinks of a way to contact Uncle?” She made a “Get busy, Worm!” face and body gesture once Nepanthe turned back to Haroun. Nepanthe concentrated only a moment before she turned again.
Ethrian was, clearly, going through something unpleasant.
Though it hurt, Nepanthe stayed put. Ekaterina was right.
Interrupting would break the train.
For a moment she understood why Varthlokkur had shielded her when her son was the Deliverer. She could have done nothing but make things worse. And she would have done so. She had managed that even while ignorant of the facts. And she would not have heard any caution offered her.
Ethrian was her baby.
Startling notion. Could she be making Ethrian’s recovery more difficult because she would not let him stop being her baby?
The possibility left her thinking poorly of herself.
She began watching Ekaterina as closely as she watched Ethrian.
The girl did not intrude upon his space. She did not distract him by trying to make him acknowledge her presence. She was just there, able to lend a hand, touching him gently when he needed calming.
Not his mother’s approach at al . Nepanthe was determined to swamp him with love.
“To smother him,” she murmured. Then, too softly to be understood by the children, she wondered, “What is he remembering?”
At that moment Smyrena announced the end of her nap, with considerable gusto, adding that, surely, it must be feeding time.
A glance showed Haroun crossing more desert.
There was plenty of that. It never did get very interesting.
Chapter Twenty-Two:
The portal technicians requested the presence of their Empress at their headquarters. Mist put aside nonsense that was a consequence of having too much time, made her way to the
home space of the Imperial Interstitial Communications and Transport Corps. If they had completed their assignment she would use their selfaggrandizing designation cheerful y.
Lord Yuan Tin Yuan welcomed her personal y. Lord Yuan seemed even more elderly. And, true, he had been a boy at the same time as her departed grandfather. Like Lord Ssu-ma Shih-ka’i, Lord Yuan survived shifting political winds by remaining indifferent to the source of his orders.
Lord Yuan was interested only in his own narrow realm.
Existence itself was al about communication. He provided the best, most efficient tools.
Mist supposed the end of the several wars had left Lord Yuan’s corps with a lot of free time. Mischief time, Lord Ssu-ma would cal it. Mischief prevention was one reason that the trainees of the Demonstration Legion were given so much make-work.
The legions themselves were, already, beginning to transition to a public works orientation. They would begin by building border fortifications to defend new borders.
“Lord Yuan, your presence graces us,” Mist said.
“I have no other diversions right now, Il ustrious, so I choose to steal the glory of the clever young men who do the real work.” “May I assume that my western adjustments have been completed?”
“You may, Il ustrious. And in the most laudable fashion, I must say.” Lord Yuan could be a talker. She ought not to offend him by hurrying him. Time was not pressing, nowadays.
“I know you have a thousand tasks, Il ustrious, so, difficult as it may be for an old man with a wandering mind, I wil try to be concise.”
Mist’s lifeguards stirred but did not al ow their amusement any more obvious demonstration.
“Thank you, Lord Yuan.”
“The functioning portals remain in place, there to be sacrificed. To those venues we added dead portals to be discovered, too. We also positioned reconditioned damaged portals that wil function without benefit of cosmetic upgrades. Those remain inert. We hope the westerners wil ignore them because they look dead. We can activate them at wil later.
“At the cemetery we instal ed portals in another two mausoleums, then a third portal, better disguised, in the rear of the tomb of the dead Queen. There are new units concealed in the ruins of your former home, too. And, final y, there is a new unit in a ruined temple in the forest southwest…”
Repetitious mention of ruins penetrated. “What do you mean, ruins?
My house was damaged when I saw it but it wasn’t a ruin.”
“I speak figuratively. The natives tore it up while looking for treasure and portals. Then a girl who was living in the basement set a fire. No one knows what that was about.
The place is empty, now, though.”
“They didn’t find any treasure.”
Lord Yuan added, “Nor did they find the new portals.
They’ve only just begun searching the cemetery.”
“I can use the portals if I want, then?”
“Exercising utmost caution, Il ustrious. Those are unpredictable people out there.”
“Yes. And the Empire Destroyer is stil there with them.”
“We believe so, Il ustrious. He has become invisible himself but his familiar haunts the nighttime sky.”
“Let me think about this. Oh. Good work, everyone. Thank you.” Lord Yuan said, “I wil see that you get the designator, alert, and activation codes as soon as we finalize them, Il ustrious.”
...
Mist joined Wen-chin and the Old Man without warning.
There were playing shogi and drinking tea. The Old Man’s color had improved. He had gained weight. There were black speckles at the roots of his hair and a twinkle in his eye when he considered her.
The man within had come back a long way if he could now appreciate what he was seeing.
She asked, “Have we been making progress?” Wen-chin said, “I’m losing games, now. At this rate the advantage wil be al his soon.”
“Any recol ections?”
“Some, but it’s like the dementia of old folks. He has crystal ine memories of things that happened so long
