Eined's seat was empty. No surprise there. But so was Grandfather Shaddon's. When Warian was regularly attending family council meetings five years earlier, Shaddon never missed a meeting. Warian wondered what could be so important that Shaddon would allow Xaemar to have the final word over Datharathi Minerals. Shaddon was a right bastard despite being his grandfather, and would rather be damned than give Xaemar or any other family member carte blanche over the family business, even if Xaemar was a prodigy of business leadership. Also at the table sat a pair of third cousins that Warian didn't know well, Barden and Corlaen. They seemed fascinated by Xaemar's droning. His uncle was elucidating something about distribution, levies, port fees-Warian tuned him out again. Two of the empty seats had belonged to Warian's parents. Warian tried to push the memory aside. He'd always wondered about the accident that had taken them. Something never seemed right. When Xaemar finally wound down, his eyes alighted on Warian and widened slightly, as if seeing his nephew for the first time, even though Warian felt as if he had just sat through an eternity of Xaemar's talk. "Young Warian!" Xaemar exclaimed. "Reports of your return were accurate, and timely! Don't worry, I've put time in the agenda for you. Please tell us why you've deigned to return.

Zel said you had something to ask of the council." Xaemar gave a patently false smile. His uncle couldn't care less if Warian was ever seen again, and in fact, may have preferred it that way. Warian decided to dispense with pleasantries. Getting quickly to the point was a Datharathi trait his family would appreciate. "I returned because the crystal arm Shaddon gave me has begun to… malfunction in a peculiar fashion." "That's awful!" exclaimed Aunt Sevaera. She looked critically at his arm. "Slow and ugly as ever, but it looks functional." "Thanks, Aunt. Yes, I know my artificial limb's inelegant lines don't match the latest Datharathi fashion." Warian nodded toward his cousin Barden's svelte, lifelike crystal arm that matched with almost perfect fidelity the arm Barden had been born with. Warian's own fake arm was angular and faceted in comparison. Xaemar brightened.

"That's right-our plangent line has been enormously successful in Vaelan. We can charge outrageous rates. Shaddon says we're ready to begin offering plangent upgrades outside Vaelan-beyond the Durpar region, even, if the price is right." "How great for you," said Warian. "Now-about my prosthesis…" Xaemar inclined his head but began to tap impatiently on the marble table. Warian knew that his time was running short. "The thing is, I wonder if your new 'line' of prosthetics isn't having some sort of… retroactive effect on my arm." "How so?" wondered Sevaera. "Less than a month ago, my prosthesis-became suddenly stronger. It was as if my arm had received … a charge of supernatural strength. I nearly killed a man when I accidentally hurled him twenty feet into a wall. I want to know if this is your doing. Something you've done because of your plangent program? How can I get it under control? I don't want to hurt anybody by accident." Warian was fairly sure he knew how to trigger the strength after the incident in Eined's apartment, but perhaps there was a way to call upon its strength in a controlled manner. Xaemar started to ask a question, then paused, staring blankly ahead. After three or four heartbeats, just as Warian was about to ask his uncle if everything was all right, animation returned to the man's face. Xaemar questioned him, a new note of authority in his voice. "Twenty feet, you say? Are you making that up?" "No, Uncle. In fact, it might have been more. And not only that. With the strength came speed. Everyone in that tavern seemed to be moving through molasses, except for me. Is this what it means to be a plangent?" "No, nothing that extreme," said Sevaera. "I mean, I'm stronger, and a hair faster, but…" Warian's aunt paused as if a new thought intruded. In a more excited tone of voice, she asked, "Faster, too? Come, tell me more, Nephew!" Warian cocked his head. She never used to call him "nephew." She didn't like the implication of age in that familial term. "That's all there is to tell. I was faster and stronger." "Any side effects?" Warian shrugged.

"Well, well, well," muttered Xaemar. "Can it be your prototype arm has discovered something of the elan that resonates in our own plangent suite of prostheses? Shaddon said that…" Again, the pause. The hairs on Warian's nape prickled when he realized everyone in the room paused as if to ponder the same thing-everyone but him and Zel. He shot Zel a puzzled look. Uncle Zeltaebar looked a little worried.

Breaking out of his thoughts, Xaemar continued speaking as if there had been no pause. "All experimental crystal implants were to be destroyed and replaced with crystal from the newest veins, as Shaddon instructed. He said crystal mined from the older veins was compromised and prone to malfunction. It could be your arm is teetering on the edge of complete malfunction." Xaemar delivered this dismal news in a manner that seemed… greedy. In fact, everyone but Zel looked at him with a simultaneous gleam of hunger suddenly illuminating their features. Warian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "So you think the arm is simply giving out, and it's-what? Sputtering on the last dregs of its magical charge?" "It could be, could be," purred Xaemar, in a very un-Xaemarlike fashion. "There's only one thing to do- you'll have to let your Grandfather Shaddon take a look. It simply wouldn't do for a Datharathi to lose the use of his prosthesis, even if that Datharathi had fled from his responsibility to the family. It would reflect poorly on the plangent enterprise." Warian sighed. "Plus, I'd sure hate to lose the use of my arm." "Be that as it may, I'm sure Shaddon would love to examine his original crystal prosthesis after all this time. I have no doubt about it." "Makes sense. I'd like to see my famous grandfather again," said Warian. If anyone could diagnose the strange new abilities of his artificial limb, it was Shaddon, the man who'd attached it. "Where is he?" Aunt Sevaera broke in. "Oh, he's out at the site. Right in the middle of some delicate work just now, and he can't even make time for our family meetings.

You'll have to travel to the site to see him directly." "Oh, come on!" protested Warian. He hated "the site"- the peculiar mine where one of the family's many mining tunnels had opened into a bizarre region, the region where Datharathi crystal was mined. Now that he was back in Vaelan, he didn't relish the idea of leaving so soon. Especially with his sister missing. The more he thought about it, the more concerned he became for Eined's welfare. She was a tough one, certainly, and could probably handle a lot more than Warian himself. Still… "Come, come, don't be like that," said Xaemar. As he spoke, a discomforting tic caused his left eye to flutter spastically. Warian had never seen Xaemar suffer from such a thing. Warian pretended not to notice-was it a sign of age, or a side effect of the plangent procedure? Xaemar continued. "Your Grandfather Shaddon isn't far from Vaelan. You can take a sky skiff. It'll be a trip of no time at all." "All right.

Maybe in a few days, after I've had time to see what I've missed in Vaelan in the last five years. And I want to help locate Eined!" His family stared at him, quiet and considering. Then Aunt Sevaera said,

"If you want our help on this, Nephew, you'll abide by the schedules we set." Warian frowned, then asked, purely for informational purposes, "When's the next skyship leaving?" "Tonight!" Xaemar rubbed his hands together. Disquietingly, so did Sevaera, Barden, and Corlaen. What the…? "However, before we make preparations for Warian's trip, we can't forget Zel is due to give a report." Xaemar turned slightly in his chair to fix Zeltaebar with a glare from his single, violet-tinged crystal eye. Xaemar asked, "Where is Eined?"