“Improved?” she asked, since one must say something. “I fear that I miss your meaning.”
The other woman smiled, and inclined her sleek head.
“Certainly, to be under Korval's wing is an improvement over standing as the second daughter of an indigent and scarcely coherent clan, the minor children of which are already indentured to another House, and which has recently sustained the loss of its nadelm. I applaud your perspicacity and your call to action. But I wonder, Pilot, if you have thought this plan through?”
No, Aelliana thought suddenly, this game was well-known to her: Ran Eld had played it. He, at least, could often be drawn by a show of bewilderment. Perhaps Lady Kareen was vulnerable to the same ploy. Aelliana tipped her head and made her eyes wide.
“Truly, ma'am,” she said, “I am in uncharted skies. What is this plan which I may not have thought through?”
Another smile, this one edged with perceptible malice.
“Why, I only mean to say, Pilot, that, if you wish to attach my brother more . . . permanently—but hold! Am I correct in supposing that you think of a lifemating? Certainly, I would do so, in your place.”
Kareen did not know! Aelliana took a careful breath, and vowed to conceal the fact of her bond with Daav. There was no reason to place another weapon into her ladyship's hand. Even if one could not entirely see how something so straightforward could be given an edge, it was enough to know that she would use it to harm Daav, if she could.
“I had considered a lifemating, yes,” she admitted.
“I had thought as much,” Lady Kareen said, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “It is no secret that my brother is susceptible. He desires a lifemating, for his cha'leket has made one. It has ever been the case that what one of the pair has the other must have in equal measure. Further, it would seem that you have appealed to his natural inclinations. So far, you have done well—no, I will not stint! You have done brilliantly! However, before you take the next step, I ask you, most urgently, to review your scheme. You stand at a cusp point, Pilot. One wrong throw, here and now, and you lose all.”
“I don't understand,” Aelliana said, and if her voice was shaking, it was only just, for her legs were shaking, too. The emotion—perhaps it was anger, or disbelief. It was not, however, fear.
“Perhaps you do not, after all,” Kareen acknowledged. 'Look you, Pilot—Korval moves at the highest levels. As one who has been bred to that melant'i, as my brother has been, I cannot help but notice your lack of . . . polish. While my brother enjoys posing as a Codeless renegade, in fact he is a high stickler. In his way. Also, he is Korval, a melant'i that he carries as well as he is able, given the defects of his character. I will tell you that I know from bitter experience that he has no hesitation in separating close kin, whatever their feelings on the matter.
“You may wish to consider what might go forth if—I should say when, for surely the High Houses are chancy flying for even an experienced pilot—you make a misstep. For truly, Pilot, at these heights you are as a mouse among raptors. Your best chance of survival is to remain small, and to feast upon whatever crumbs fall your way.”
The air in the room changed. Aelliana glanced to the door, and here came Daav, striding swift and silent, a pair of dirt-stained gloves gripped in his left hand. His face was utterly devoid of emotion, but the force of his anger struck Aelliana from across the room. She went back a step, her hand rising as if she would fend him away.
“Good morning, Kareen; you're about early today.” His voice was ordered and calm; not welcoming, but neither did it deliver any hint of the fury that hammered at Aelliana's senses.
“Pilot,” he said, his eyes still on his sister's face, “would you grant me a few moments alone with my kinswoman?”
“Certainly.”
She bowed to Lady Kareen's honor and forced herself to walk calmly across the room. In the hall she met Mr. pel'Kana.
“Pilot—” he began, and stopped when she held up a hand.
“I desire to go into the garden,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “Of your kindness, point me the way.”
* * *
He knew where he would find her. Wherever the knowledge had come from, he did not doubt it—which argued for Tree-sense. Those born to Korval accepted such things as commonplace. Those who came to Korval from lives previously unburdened by an ancient alliance with a large, vegetative intelligence . . . took some amount of time to adjust. He was not entirely certain that Anne had yet come to an accommodation, or if her seeming acceptance was merely bravado.
He left the path and walked over the grass, taking care with the surface roots. Aelliana was pressed close against the massive trunk, soft cheek against rough bark, the lines of her body expressive of some tension, but not so much as he had feared.
Coming to her side, he spoke as gently as he might.
“Aelliana, you mustn't take my sister's words to heart. She is—we have a long history of despite, as much to my blame as hers. I fear that she does not count the cost, can she but land a strike upon me.”
She took a breath, slim shoulders rising and falling.
“Does this tree,” she asked dreamily, “speak to you?”
Well, and that was no time lost, he thought.
“It speaks to all of us,” he told her, and added, with Kareen in his mind, “though some listen less closely than others.”
For three heartbeats, she said nothing more, merely embracing the tree, so nearly it seemed that she might meld with it. Three heartbeats more, and he was becoming alarmed. If the tree were to overwhelm her—
She straightened, and turned, holding a seedpod between thumb and forefinger.
