“Tell me, are you under contract to anybody here?”
I blinked.
Adrian said, “Tal’s told me that you’re a Graykey.”
How much else did he tell? Adrian and Tal had been out of earshot several times since the kennels. I wished I could look at Tal’s face for direction, but was held back first by the knowledge that Adrian would pick up on it, and second by the fact that I knew it would tell me absolutely nothing.
I spoke with the boldness I had been taught. “As regards contract, sir, I’ll speak plainly. I’m no man’s Graykey. Except in the sense that while on the Diamond I’m subject to the Protector and the Council.”
Adrian inclined his head at this polite reference. “Or woman’s either?” he pursued.
“Or woman’s either.” Man: A human male. Technical squirms are allowed when they’re all you’ve got.
Adrian grinned. “I hope I’ll be seeing more of you, Miss Gray. As for your association with my demon here, you have my blessings. I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.” And he spurred his horse on to join the others.
So, Adrian thought our relationship was romantic rather than functional. My tarethi-din and I rode in silence for a while. I was damned if I was going to say anything first.
“That wasn’t bad,” said Tal finally.
“A few hints would not have been amiss.”
“Short of holding up signs, I really don’t know what you humans expect of me,” he said with some annoyance.
“Well, never mind.” I dutifully told him about Beckety a play wherein a ruler opposes his church and has a priest killed.
“That must have gone over well with Adrian. Especially considering the pressure he’s under now from Opal. He has to be very, very careful these days.”
“But why?”
Tal didn’t answer at once. He looked around at the trees, the hills, the sky, and the group in the distance ahead. We dropped back further. I wondered whether he was going to answer at all, but finally he said, “Adrian has given me the impression that he intends, in some small ways, to lift these people out of the dark ages. To be tolerant of differences in thought. To use Outsider knowledge to relieve their suffering.”
“But that should make him more popular, not less.”
“You don’t know a lot about humans, do you, Keylinn? There’ll be a mob rush to get their chains on again.”
“You sound positive.”
“I’ve seen it before.” He did not expand on this, and I filed the information away in my contract-holder file.
When the stables came into view far ahead, he said, “Don’t the leaders of your own people have these problems?”
“Actually we’ve always been a democracy. The stresses are different.”
“Democracies are unstable,” he said in a voice of flat contradiction. “None of them lasts more than three centuries, and your people began over five hundred years ago, as I understand it.”
I smiled and shrugged.
He thought a moment. “There must be a relatively small population on your planet.”
“Possibly,” I said.
“You could give me marks if I come close.”
“No, I couldn’t.” I looked measuringly down the path to the stables and found myself taken by one of those reckless impulses, the kind that got me into trouble at the Academy. “I’ll make you a wager, Tal.”
“I’m not a betting man.”
“I’ll race you to the stable doors. The winner gets to ask one question, and the loser has to answer truthfully.” He regarded me speculatively. Then he smiled. “But Keylinn, I’m no Graykey. How would you know if I answered truthfully?”
“Do we have a bet?” I said.
“All ri—” I took off before he was finished. I’d never said that I would wait.
He spurred after me.
I weighed less and had ridden more. And Jewel trusted me. I beat Tal with ease, and felt myself grinning ear to ear as he reached the stable doors behind me.
“One question, tarethi-din.”
“Ask it.” He was breathing hard.
I’d thought about this. His name might be less than useless, since many places didn’t register them; and if his name was registered, but a common one, that would be useless too. “Where were you bom?” I asked.
“Arco Station,” he said.
Which sounded very like a lie. Arco Station was two sector-gates away, a Republic research facility. The birth of someone with his genetic background could hardly have been kept secret on a station—especially considering his parents would have needed sophisticated medical help just to bring him to term. And considering how nosy the Republic was in the lives of its citizens … it seemed an impossibility.
I didn’t press the point. But I wondered.
Chapter 27
The stables were cool and dark. Tal liked darkness. He took hold of Keylinn’s wrist as she tried to walk by, and pulled her back.
“Keylinn … couldn’t you let the dog go?”
She stared up into his face, genuinely shocked. “But I promised I wouldn’t let anybody hurt him.”
“You know, I doubt if he even speaks your language.” That was hardly the point, the sea-colored eyes told him. But she suddenly dimpled and said, “Why, Tal— they understand every word you say.”
And she went off happily to hand her horse over to the master groom. Adrian, who had already finished doing so, strolled over to Tal. “A remarkable Outsider.” Although Adrian was far too well-bred to remark on it, Tal noticed that his gaze dwelled with approval on the sway of Graykey buttocks in trousers as she walked away. “Such exotic coloring, too, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.” Tal’s voice was curt.
“I wonder how she’d do in a gown. Do you think she’d like to attend the banquet tonight?”
“It might be awkward,” said Tal. “She’s a vegetarian.” Adrian looked at him in disbelief. “I had heard that some Outsiders …” he began, then stopped. “Well. I suppose I didn’t
