"To my right a quarter turn, please."

The three remaining men watched them depart in silence; when they had vanished through a gilded arch, Hound murmured, "I wonder what she wants with him."

Bison picked up the wine bottle. "What makes you think she wants anything?"

"It's-well, obvious. Or I think it is. Maybe I wouldn't think so if I hadn't been around Horn for the past couple days. But it seems obvious after what I've heard. She could have had that girl push her, or pushed herself. Or any of us could have done it, and we can see. Pig might run her into a wall, though I hope he won't. So she wanted to speak to him alone, and jumped at the first opportunity to do it. Jumped is a bad word here, I suppose. But she did."

Bison refilled Hound's wineglass. "If a few days of Horn's company has done that, I ought to keep him around myself. What do you say, Horn? Is your pupil right?"

"I don't know. It seems plausible."

"What is she saying to him? Your best guess."

"If you're asking what she's telling him, I doubt that she's telling him anything. I would guess she's questioning him about something-something she thinks he might speak openly about when the two of them are alone-"

Hound snapped his fingers and looked pleased.

"You've guessed it? What is it? I confess I have only the foggiest ideas."

Hound's mouth opened, then shut again.

Bison said, "Tell us. I'd like to know, too."

"No. I won't. I apologize, Calde. I'm sorry, Horn. But I like General Mint, and Pig's my friend. If they want us to know, they can tell us."

Oreb bobbed approval. "Wise man!"

Bison smiled. "Shall we try to force it out of him, Horn?"

He shook his head. "He's right, and so is Oreb. Hound, you surprise me about once a day. I believe I've said something like that to you before, and it's true. I hadn't thought through the ethical implications. General Mint is an extraordinarily good woman, and a wise one. If she believes her question-and its answer-demands privacy, she's probably correct."

Hound laid a finger to his lips.

As she came through the doorway, Mint announced, "There will be four hot meats, I'm afraid, instead of the five cook planned. But Pig has tasted the shirred oysters for me and pronounces them excellent."

"Aye. H'oreb? H'oreb h'about?"

"Bird here. No go."

"Gi'e yer ae. Yer nae had ther like."

"Good Pig!"

With her chair back at the table, Mint speared an artichoke heart with her fork. "Where was I? Oh, yes, I was trying to explain about the man who shot me."

Bison gave her a concerned look.

"Yes, I was. That's what I was circling around toward. That and the ghost. Pig wants to know about the ghost. He asked me back in the kitchen."

"See ghost?" Oreb repeated.

"I didn't, Oreb, but my cook did. Horn, I want to tell you these things particularly. You say you're looking for Silk."

"I am."

Bison said, "So is someone else. I want to tell you about that before we finish lunch, but I'll let my wife go first."

"Thank you. I don't know whether these things I'm going to tell you will help you, Horn, but they may."

He nodded. "Please go on. I'm very grateful."

"I used to be calde. I don't know whether you remember our law here. The one concerning succession says that the calde can designate his own successor. He can tell the people whom he wants, or leave a paper in case he dies. Calde Silk resigned, and in the speech I've described he designated me."

He nodded again.

"The Rani's government was beside itself." Mint's smile warmed them. "Here they had been saying that Vironese women were slaves, and Viron had its first woman calde. We thought at first that the man who shot me might have been working for the Trivigauntis. But he was Vironese, and if there was a Trivigaunti connection we couldn't trace it."

Hound asked, "Isn't it possible that he shot you just because you're a woman? There are men who feel like that, or anyway they say they do."

Bison shook his head. "Not many."

"But there are some. Isn't that right, Horn?"

"Yes, there are, I'm sure. One would be sufficient."

Mint said, "I agree, but I don't think that's what it was. Neither does my husband, though he won't say so."

"I have no opinion. We've never been able to learn enough for me to form an opinion."

"I have my own, just the same. You see, when I became calde, the sun went out. I don't mean the moment I assumed the office. It was about a week later."

"Eight days," Bison said.

"Yes, eight days. It had been hot, terribly hot, and from what we were able to find out, even hotter in Urbs than it was here. We lost about a hundred citizens to heatstroke, mostly old people, but in Urbs it was over a thousand. We conferred with the Ayuntamiento then, Calde Silk, my husband, and I. It wasn't a formal meeting, but it lasted for hours and we learned a great deal, as did Calde Silk, I feel sure."

Pig swallowed. "Calde yet call him."

"Yes, he retains the title even though he's out of office, just as I do. Just as I retain my rank of general, for that matter, though I'm not on duty or fit for it."

Honeysuckle carried in a steaming tray.

"Horn, do you remember what I told you long ago about the tunnels? How they carry warm air to the surface of the whorl and return cooler air to the interior?"

He nodded.

"Spider explained it to me while I was his prisoner. He had learned it from Councilor Potto, and Potto had learned it from Tarsier. The meeting was Silk's idea, as I should have said, and he told us about a tunnel he'd seen that was entirely blocked with water. There are others, far too many, that have collapsed and are blocked with stones and earth."

"That's why it gets too hot?" Hound asked. "Is that what you're saying?"

"Why ther wee folk douses yer glim." Pig helped himself to a handful of fragrant roast pork.

"If that means what I think, you're both right," Mint told Hound. "Heat accumulates, our summers are much too hot and our winters too mild. To keep things from getting worse, Pas blows out the sun. We didn't know that then, but the gods have told us since, and so have the godlings.

"What was I was going to say was that I made two decisions at that conference. The first was that we wouldn't let anyone else leave the whorl. And the second was that we would put crews to work clearing the tunnels under Viron, directed by Councilor Tarsier. I said I made those decisions, and I did. But we all agreed, even Silk."

"We had lost too many people already," Bison explained. "If Trivigaunte had resumed the war, we would have fallen like ripe fruit. The darkness was even worse. It had everybody terrified. Clearing the tunnels may have helped, and we got Urbs to do it too. Whether it's helped or not, at least it lets everybody feel that we're doing something."

Mint smiled again. "Trivigaunte declared a victory. It was unexpected, but very welcome. They said we had capitulated to the will of Sphigx. So we said we had, too, and it would have been difficult for them to attack us after that. Why are you shaking your head, Horn? Don't you believe me?"

"Yes." He moved a lettuce leaf on his plate so as to obscure Scylla's likeness and laid down his emblazoned silver fork. "Yes, of course. I would believe you even if you said things a thousand times more fantastic than that. I was thinking that it can't be the way things are now. People are boarding landers again to go to Blue or Green. They've got to be."

"They are," Mint said. "We-"

Bison interrupted her. "Why do you say that?"

"General Mint said the gods had told you that Pas puts out the sun, and that a godling had confirmed it. I, too, have spoken with a godling. Having newly returned to this Long Sun Whorl, I may perhaps have regarded the conversation as less extraordinary than it was."