world.”
Necessity was placed before Kareen's butler, who immediately grasped what was needful and proper for the occasion and took all in hand.
A table materialized at the landing overlooking the gather hall, covered with a tapestry depicting the Tree- and-Dragon, pen, book, and glasses arranged according to Code. Servers were sent out among the guests below, to ensure that everyone held a glass.
Behind the table stood Anne and Kareen; the latter irreproachably solemn, the former frankly beaming.
Daav was escorted to his place by Er Thom, who would stand as his second. There was a wait, then, for Mr. dea'Gauss had gone to find Aelliana and explain the procedures to her. Now that he had leisure, he worried, for she had no kin here to support her, nor even any friends. Perhaps he should not have rushed this, and yet—
And yet.
Below him, the amassed witnesses began to move; folk took a half-step aside, or turned sideways, opening a path—a path wide enough to accommodate two slender women, arm in arm and heads high, both walking with pilot grace, neither faltering.
Aelliana and Samiv tel'Izak.
Unhurriedly, but with purpose, they climbed the stairway, and it seemed that the room held its breath. Upon achieving the landing, Aelliana took her place before the second book, with Samiv beside her and one step to the rear.
Daav shivered. The desire, the need to touch her nearly overwhelmed his senses. His breath came shallow and fast. Gods, it would not do to swoon, and if he, who shouldered the least part of their bond, was thus afflicted, what must she be feeling?
He dared not turn his head to look at her.
Below, the crowd shifted again and Mr. dea'Gauss mounted as high as the third stair, where he turned to address those assembled.
“We are called to bear witness to the joining of the lives, the hearts, and the souls of Daav yos'Phelium and Aelliana Caylon. From this moment onward they shall share one clan, one purpose, and one melant'i.” He paused for the space of two agonizingly long heartbeats.
“Let the lines be signed.”
Their shared pen sat in its holder in the exact center of the table; a fanciful creation of silver and jet that was perhaps meant to evoke an old-style fin ship, the book open on the cloth before it. Aelliana, superbly coached by dea'Gauss, extended a hand, the jewels in the Jump pilot's ring winking like remote stars. From the side of his eye, Daav saw her pluck up the pen, write in the book, and replace the pen in the holder.
Daav took up the pen, signed his name, and replaced the pen.
Er Thom and Samiv stepped forward in time, as if they had practiced the move, each taking up the lesser pen at the table ends, and leaning over to sign their names, before stepping back to join Kareen and Anne.
“Let the book find its proper owner.”
This, thought Daav, was going to be delicate. He closed the binder, fingers caressing smooth leather, and turned at last to face Aelliana.
She was . . . glowing; her eyes were beyond emeralds, her face transcendent. He raised the book and softly kissed the leather, his eyes never leaving hers.
There was a murmur, perhaps he had outraged those below. He did not care.
He placed the book into her hands.
“For my pilot.”
“No,” she answered, her voice flowing out over the room. “We fly together.”
Silence from the gathered onlookers and now there was only one more thing to do.
Daav raised his hand, showing Korval's Ring to those gathered.
“Korval Sees Aelliana Caylon, beloved friend, pilot, lifemate, delmae.” His voice wavered slightly, but he hardly cared. He closed the space between them, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him with so much love in her face that he felt his soul seared, aflame and exalted all at once, and there was yet one more thing to say, and to do.
“The Clan,” he said, loud enough to be heard in the farthest corner of the room, “rejoices.”
He bent his head, and kissed her.
The room exploded into greenness, the air was scented with leaf. He stood on his toes, stretching into the kiss; he could feel the nap of his coat sleeves under his fingers, a heaviness in his womb, and passion poised like lightning.
Daav . . . he heard her voice, inside his head, and abruptly it was his head again, and his hands cupping silk- smoothed shoulders. It was Aelliana who ended the kiss, and stepped back from him, her hands gripping his arms, and her smile enough to dazzle a blind man.
Together, they took a deep breath and looked out over the room, where Kareen's guests stood, as if ensorcelled.
“It is done,” Mr. dea'Gauss announced, and turned on the stair.
Deliberately, and with exquisite timing, he bowed: Honor-to-the-Delm.
The last guest had filed by to offer felicitations, and they were momentarily, at least, alone.
“Daav,” Aelliana leaned into his side. “I must tell you something.”
