“Reverend Father?” asked Adrian with controlled politeness, when he’d gotten through to the City of Pearl.
“What?” asked the voice on the other end.
“A prophetic-level Oracle was supposed to arrive on the Diamond several hours ago. We’re still waiting for them.”
“Well, what of it? They’ll get there eventually.”
The advisers glanced at each other. Typical behavior from the City of Pearl.
Adrian said, “We were hoping to accelerate the process.”
“Patience ought to be cultivated by lay persons.” The voice was superior.
“A fee was paid for a prophetic-level Oracle,” said Adrian. “Maybe we should arrange for its return.” And he dropped the use of the plural subject and said, “I’m not standing in this room waiting all day and night. I’ve got a life to live.”
The witnesses looked shocked, but the voice from the City of Pearl merely said, “Oh, very well. You don’t need someone there in person anyway. Just leave the Crown at room temperature for a while; then you’ll know if it’s genuine or not”
“Why?” Adrian frowned. “What will that do?”
But the connection had been cut at the other end.
Adrian stared at nothing for a minute. Then he got up, opened the cold-box, took out the chain, and laid it on the back of a chair. “Make sure the recorders are going,” he said to Fischer.
“They are,” replied the First Adviser. He walked over to Adrian. “I only hope we’re not making fools of ourselves for permanent record.”
Adrian set down a wooden chair backward and planted himself in it, a hands-breadth from the chain at eye-level. He didn’t take his eyes off it. He said to Fischer, “Tal won this by playing Hotem with an Imperial Princess.”
“Do you believe every story a demon tells you?” Fischer’s voice was worried.
“He’s never lied to me that I know of.” Adrian’s gaze remained on the chain. Fischer sighed and went back to stand with the others.
Iolanthe was beside him. He said to her, with a trace of bitterness, “Tal says an Imperial Princess gave it to him.” She turned to him. “Are we off the recorders over here?”
“Supposedly.”
“What do you know about Tal?”
Fischer looked faintly surprised, and shrugged. “What can I know? I assume Tal is short for Taliesin. That’s a fairly common Empire name, especially in the area where Adrian picked him up.”
“I thought Tal was from the Republic.”
Fischer looked surprised again. “He doesn’t have the air of a Republican. Although I suppose, with a demon, how can one tell? It was an independent planet … I just assumed he was Empire-bom. Now that I think of it, I don’t believe Adrian ever told me.”
“What planet was it where Adrian found him?”
“Brevity. A real scum-hole. On top of a sector-gate, useful for us because we needed some general trading. Half the undesirables from that comer of die Empire were there; apparently the local government was not strong on ID, as long as one could pay. Just the sort of place you’d expect to find a demon, in short.”
“Brevity,” she repeated, as though impressing it on her memory.
“It was our second stopover since he’d become Protector,” said Fischer. “At the first one he brought back a new kind of dog for the kennels. At the second one he brought back Tal.”
“Tell me, Brandon—” But she stopped short, for Adrian had moved.
The Protector reached for the chain, lifted it, and put it on his head. It fit well, the links lying about an inch above his brows like a charcoal-colored wreath of flowers.
Brandon Fischer walked back to him and bent over to whisper. “This isn’t the coronation, you know.”
“I know. I only wanted to see what if felt like. It was just an impulse, Brandon; we’ll present the public record as starting at a later point.”
“You want me to turn off the recorders?”
“God, no, we need an unbroken master in case anybody challenges us.” He smiled. “Relax, my friend. Save your worry for whether the thing’s genuine.”
“I’ve got plenty of worry to go around.” He returned to his place beside Iolanthe. “I don’t like this,” he told her. “I wish he would take it off.”
“He has made the point to me more than once that the Sawyer Crown is his, deeded by Saul Veritie—”
“—whose right to deed it is disputable—” muttered Fischer.
“—and I guess he’s making that point again now. What can we do?”
“About as much as we usually can do.” Fischer suddenly realized that he was treating this Opal-born girl as an ally. When had that happened? Somewhere along the way she’d convinced him of her regard for Adrian.
Her violet eyes narrowed now. “Brandon, am I crazy, or is the Crown moving?”
His gaze snapped back to Adrian. What was she talking about? It was just a chain … a chain whose links now heaved, like a ripple passing over water. Fischer was there in a second, pulling at it. Adrian’s hand went to his head. “What are you…”
The chain gave way abruptly, as though it had been unfastened in back, and closed itself around Adrian’s wrist.
“It’s alive,” breathed Io. It wrapped itself like a charcoal snake around the wrist, one end moving against the flesh of his arm as if seeking something. Fischer tried to pull it again, but it was plastered onto the flesh and too slippery to get hold of.
The dark bracelet twirled off Adrian’s wrist and disappeared below the cuff of his white shirt. A sluglike shape could be seen moving speedily up the arm. He groped for his diamond buttons, ripped them open, and pulled down the shirt. By now some of the braver witnesses had gathered around his chair. One of them reached for the thing as it appeared at Adrian’s throat.
“No!” said Adrian, in a voice that made the man jump. “Get away.” He added
