we have a situation,' he said to his men, who'd just started a card game behind the screens. They looked up, surprised, and at that moment he heard a very high, piercing whistle come from somewhere in the crowd.
Derance stopped talking in midword, then said, 'What are you doing?' Jacoby stepped back out to look, and everyone else was turning, too, to stare at faux Thavia, who was holding a whistle to her mouth.
She lowered it. 'He's lying, you know,' she said calmly. 'You really are hostages.'
'Shut her up!' Derance shouted. Jacoby's men began knocking their way through the crowd. He, on the other hand, had begun backing toward the tent's other exit.
'I suggest you all lie down on the floor,' faux Thavia continued loudly. 'There's about to be bullets flying.'
The nobles exchanged glances. 'Who are you?' somebody asked.
She drew herself up into a regal pose. 'True, I am not Thavia of Greydrop. I am your rescuer! My name is Venera Fanning, and I'm the wife of Chaison Fanning, admiral of Slipstream.'
There was a moment of silence.
'No you're not,' said a white-haired old man. 'I've met Venera Fanning,' he continued argumentatively, as faux Thavia/Venera rolled her eyes. 'You, young lady, don't look a thing like her. Why, she has a famous scar, here--'
--and as he gestured at his chin the tent's canvas walls were ripped open in three simultaneous blasts, and he and everybody else were knocked off their feet.
* * *
THERE WAS GUNFIRE now--lots of it. Jacoby heaved one of the tables onto its side and drew his pistol. 'To me!' he bellowed at his men while hostages pelted back and forth and generally made a clear shot impossible. He heard wild screaming and more than just the voices of his own men ordering the hapless nobles to get out of the way. Then, quite suddenly, there was silence.
He looked cautiously around the side of the table. The hostages were all on the plank floor, but he couldn't tell if any were actually hurt. The room was otherwise full of soldiers--some of them grim navy men wearing the red and gold of Slipstream, and some wearing ancient and baroque, but somehow familiar, uniforms. They had surrounded Derance of Sacrus and the remainder of Jacoby's men, including Palatin, who all stood back to back with their weapons raised.
It wasn't those guns that had momentarily halted the attack, though. It was Derance, who was holding something high over his head. When Jacoby saw what it was he grunted; he wouldn't have tried this ploy himself. His opinion of Derance wasn't improving.
'This detonator,' hollered Derance, 'will set off every one of the charges hanging over us. If you don't let us go, I really will push it.'
And there she was, fan of black hair framing the lovely, oval face whose perfection was only enhanced by that single, discreet scar. She wore the naval uniform of Slipstream today (quite well) and held a carbine in her hands.
'Meet my better half,' said the woman who'd so recently claimed to be Venera Fanning.
'Everybody, back off,' said the real Venera to her men. 'You don't need to get hurt.'
She hadn't noticed Jacoby yet. He wondered whether she would simply shoot him when she did. That had been part of the calculated risk he'd taken in arranging this honeypot. He had to be here himself to make it convincing-- both to Inshiri, who had no idea what he was planning, and to Venera.
Derance desperately tried to regain the initiative. 'Nobody move! If so much as a single one of the hostages moves, I'll kill them all!'
'Oh, I believe you,' said Fanning. 'But I'm not here for
'What do you mean you're not here for--'
'Their people have already betrayed us by joining your side,' she said. 'They're a lost cause; despite what my double here said, what possible good would it do me to rescue this lot? They're supposed to be here, and if I wanted to curry favor with their masters I'd leave them here, wouldn't I? So it's a matter of complete indifference to me whether they live or die.'
Derance blinked at her, once, twice, three times. 'Then what
Jacoby walked out from behind the table. 'I should think that would be obvious, Derance,' he said, and he had the pleasure of seeing Venera blink in surprise when she saw it was him.
'She already has what she came for,' Jacoby continued. 'A list of all the nations represented here--and therefore, a list of the nations that have signed our secret pact. All this gunfire was just cover to get her actors out safely, wasn't it?'
Venera nodded, silent for once.
'... And as you can see, that's already been accomplished,' he finished.
Venera recovered her poise. 'Jacoby Sarto,' she said with a sneer. 'So you ran home to Momma, did you? Cowering under the skirts of your dead Spyre? I'd expected more from you.' He saw her notice his bandaged hand, and waited for her to make some quip about it--and he saw her think about it, but she didn't take the opportunity.
She wasn't going to kick him while he was down, and that threw him for just a second; but Derance was watching their exchange, so he said, 'Who were your pretenders? Members of the Slipstream Naval Drama Society?' She shrugged in something like assent.
Derance glared from her to him. 'Shut up, Sarto. What are you going to do now?' he asked Venera.
'Oh, the only thing that remains is to shoot you and your men, and let these good people,' she indicated the
