"Wake up, Warian! Lost your wits since you left? I asked you what you've got against my squad?" Warian blinked again. His assessment of the situation in Eined's apartment shifted. It was painful making the mental adjustment to reflect his uncle's appearance. "Zel? What're you doing here? Are these your men, ransacking Eined's place? I thought they were burglars." "Eined's missing, Nephew! These fellows are looking for anything we can use to figure out what happened to her.

The family thinks she's been kidnapped." "Kidnapped! By whom?" "Don't know. Some bastard hoping to claim a ransom. Like I told you, if I knew, I wouldn't be tearing apart your sister's apartment." Warian took a deep breath. His strength was trickling back. Calling on his arm's hidden reserve was apparently something he shouldn't do lightly.

He said, "Sorry. I didn't know what they were doing here. It looked like something I should break up. You have to admit-stumbling upon it, it wouldn't look good." Zel just grinned his crazy Zel grin. Truth to tell, Warian had never quite trusted his Uncle Zeltaebar. If the Datharathi family had a truism, it was that Zel never told the whole truth. His uncle scratched his ear. "So, what are you doing back? Did you get some sort of message from Eined? What'd it say?" Warian realized how his presence must look. He raised his real hand. "No, Uncle, I received no message. I just got into town today, and thought I'd go see Eined. She's my favorite sister." Zel snorted. "Your only living sister, you mean?" "Always the sensitive one, Uncle." "Seems a little strange that you'd come back just when Eined goes missing, though, doesn't it?" Zel fixed Warian with a penetrating stare. "And the suspicious one. You think I'd hurt my own sister? I want to know what's happened to her, too! You think I know something you don't?" "I don't think it, I know it. You wouldn't be here otherwise. And I don't mean here in Eined's home. I mean back in Vaelan. You swore you'd never return. Something's made you decide otherwise. What gives, Nephew?" Warian considered telling his uncle about his arm, but since Zel hadn't mentioned the method by which his nephew had just decimated his crew… "I'd like to call a family meeting-I'll tell everyone at the same time." Zel whistled. He said, "You don't have the authority to call a meeting. But don't worry!" Zel made a calming gesture at Warian, who'd started protesting. "The next meeting's in two days. Come to that. In fact, your presence will be in my report-it'll be better if you're there to answer the questions that come up." "All right, then." Warian looked around the room-it was in complete shambles-then back at Zel. "About Eined-did you find a ransom note?" Zel shook his head and said, "Nothing like that. She just walked out and never returned-no messages, no preparations-just, gone." Warian wondered if his sister had merely had enough Datharathi politics and left Vaelan, as he had. Could be the case. On the other hand, he'd received no message from her. If she were leaving the city, he imagined he'd be the first person she would contact. Aloud, he said, "Well, perhaps she'll turn up. She won't be happy to find what you've done to her place, though." Zel snorted. "Nothing gold can't fix." Warian sighed. The classic Datharathi answer. "Say, Zel-one of your men thought I was a 'plangent.' What was he talking about?"

Warian decided to play dumb despite his conversation with the rickshaw driver, who'd told him about the new Datharathi innovation. He was curious about Zel's angle. A sour smile came from Zel. "The family has opened a new front on trade. We're now in the 'personal improvement' business. My siblings have figured out how to make Datharathi crystal replacements that are better than the limbs folk were born with. Too bad about your prosthesis, Warian-the new ones are better than regular flesh, not worse." Warian nodded. It seemed clear his uncle hadn't seen him using his own arm to such spectacular effect, or understood what he was seeing. He wondered if his prosthesis had somehow intercepted a power boost meant for Datharathi crystal-wearing plangents. He didn't understand how that could be, but he was no warlock, gemstone engineer, or spell-monger, either. Warian asked, "If it's better than flesh, why don't I see you sporting the plangent look?" "Me? No. I prefer the parts I was born with, thank you."

Warian filled the subsequent two days dodging various inquiries from his family. Zel was good to his word-he told the others Warian had returned to town. After getting more than two invitations to meet "just you and me" before the family council meeting, he made himself scarce. Warian didn't want to hear the inevitable side proposals or deals. He wanted to see everyone at once and gauge their reactions to his question. His facility with games of chance was more than just luck, after all-he had a knack for reading people's true motives lurking behind whatever their mouths were saying. He rented a flat in the upscale but still shabby Vartown district. There, he wiled away his time catching up on the latest underground, counter-culture art craze of Vaelan- libelous plays decrying the members and policies of every major chaka. The Datharathi family was not spared. Warian did himself a favor by not identifying his lineage to the other tenants.

Indeed, he enjoyed a particular one-man performance that portrayed his Uncle Xaemar in all his overweening confidence, to great comedic effect. In this manner, two days slipped past, stung by occasional pangs of guilt. Several times, Warian considered hunting for his missing sister, but he couldn't stand the thought of being cornered by the family. He would look for her after the meeting. Warian made a conscious decision to arrive after the council meeting was scheduled to begin, and he slipped into a side entrance of the Datharathi family compound, where he was stopped by a servant. Recognizing Warian, the servant told him in a hushed tone that the meeting had already started. Warian nodded and quickly made his way to the boardroom. All the senior members of the family were already gathered around a marble table. Only five of the ten chairs were filled. Warian walked to his own seat and sat down. Uncle Xaemar was in the midst of one of his cutting diatribes about a competitor. Despite his nephew's absence of five years, Xaemar continued expounding on his obtuse point, "… so the bids have been placed, the three-ship fleet is underway, and we have just three tendays…" Warian stopped listening and glanced around the table. Uncle Xaemar was the ranking family member by virtue of being the oldest of Shaddon's children. But eldest child or not, Xaemar's judgments were rarely questioned by his siblings. Only Grandfather Shaddon ever found fault with Xaemar's directives, and then only to be confrontational, not because Xaemar was wrong.

Warian's senior uncle never made a decision without calculating each and every outcome, moving only when the odds were overwhelmingly in his favor. According to family gossip, Xaemar was celibate, never drank, and on average, got only half a night's sleep each day. The rest of his time was spent at the desk in his study, dreaming up ever more elaborate business ploys. Warian studied him. More wrinkles gouged his face, but the biggest change in Xaemar since Warian had last seen him were several crystal prostheses-Xaemar was a plangent.

As Warian glanced around, he saw that every family member present sported extensive prostheses, save for Zel and himself. To his right was Aunt Sevaera, and next to her, Zeltaebar. Zeltaebar looked half asleep, but Warian doubted that Zel, despite his slouching posture and lazily shuttered eyelids, missed anything Xaemar said. Aunt Sevaera, on the other hand, stared directly at Warian, her eyes alight with supposition. Warian waved at her. She smiled, though her plangent crystal half mask turned her expression into more of a grimace.