Caimbeui took my hand and gave it a little squeeze. "He attends his grudges like a jealous wife. Age hasn't tempered him. It's only made him more of what he is. But isn't that the way it is with all of us?"

"I suppose. But what about you and Ehran? I know you engaged in the Game some time ago. Did that resolve any of your differences? Or did it merely let you keep them simmering for another hundred years or so?"

"Simmering, my sweet, simmering always. I never like to bring things to a boil."

I held his hand tightly for a moment, then released it.

"I seem to remember a time or two when that wasn't the case."

"You are an evil woman, Aina."

I just smiled at him, then went back to looking out the window.

We passed through Tir customs easily. Whatever mojo Caimbeui had worked with his friend, it breezed us through the usual tediousness of the bu- reaucracy. I'd made it a point in the past to avoid Tir Taimgire at all costs. Oh, I'd been here a few times, but always as quickly and discreetly as possible. Though I knew Aithne would never act against me directly, I wasn't about to force the issue. Tir Taimgire was, after all, his baby. He'd cooked the idea up with Sean Laverty, Lugh Surehand, and Ehran. They'd moved with a purpose and precision to establish the Tir that preempted anyone who might have stood in their way. Not that I would have been foolish enough to try. I like to think that I've developed some measure of sense in roy old age.

They tricked the Salish-Shidhe Council into giv- ing over part of their land to the elves. Oh, I had to admire their cunning. Like all good mundane magic, it was done with clever distractions and sleight of hand.

It was Ehran who did the initial dirty work. And how he must have enjoyed the charade-posing as an Amerindian-Walter Bright Water-newly re- leased from the Pyramid Lake Re-Education Center. He pretended that his wife and children had died there, then deceived the tribal elders with his knowl- edge of Cascade Crow tribal rituals. The treachery of it astounds.

Perhaps I am letting my history with Caimbeui color my comments, for his and Ehran's relationship is a bitter one from long ago. The enemy of my friend is my enemy. Not that Ehran had the slightest idea of my opinion of him, of course. That would be foolishness of the first water.

Anyway, eventually, he received a place on the S-S Council, and parlayed that into his final plan. He encouraged the segregation of metahumans, saying that Awakened individuals were better off away from humanity and their prejudices. But, at the same time, he encouraged the Salish-Shidhe and the other Native American Nations to welcome metahumans into their territories.

This brought metahumans into NAN and the Salish-Shidhe territories in ever-increasing numbers over the years just before the establishment of the Tir. Before Bright Water disappeared (faking his death, by the way… Something I know he is quite proficient at), he encouraged the metahuman popula- tion to segregate itself into the southern region of the Amerindian territories. They did so, and this was the beginning of what would later become Tir Tairn- gire.

Of course, Aithne and the others hadn't been sit- ting by doing nothing, but they did let Ehran have all the fun. After "Walter Bright Water's" death, they appeared on the scene and began to lead the "renaissance in the south." By the time there was a formal declaration of independence by the Tir, the Salish-Shidhe was no longer a cohesive power and there was nothing NAN or any other nation could do to stop them.

By this time, of course, Ehran had re-emerged as himself. The rest, as they say, is history. The Tir went on to be recognized by every other nation, with the notable exception of Aztlan. But then they are both special cases unto themselves.

Now they had set themselves up as Princes, no less. Of course, that is how most of us thought of ourselves. After all, we had always ruled, whether overtly or covertly. The hand that guides the puppets does not have to seen.

They had made all the preparations, but I sus- pected they still didn't believe the time would come when they would have to use them. Only that they would have the world made over in their image and no one would stop them.

None but those who had always stopped us be- fore.

Caimbeui had booked us into the best hotel in Portland. It overlooked the Willamette River and was as lush and palatial as any Louis the XIV wet dream. I'd never been particularly impressed by the elven fondness for royal pomp and circumstance. It seemed pretentious and ultimately destructive to me. But then no one had ashed my opinion on the matter, had they?

I wasn't sure what influence Caimbeui wielded here, but there was enough bowing and scraping to make even Alachia happy. We were shown to the uppermost penthouse, being informed along the way that the High Prince had resided here while having his home remodeled.

Caimbeui and I were suitably blase about the whole situation. And why not? We'd seen Versailles at its height. And the Taj, that jewel of a building, small yet almost perfect. How could any hotel room, no matter how sumptuous, compare?

Finally, we were left alone. The staff would have to be spoken to about the hovering. I dropped down onto one of the brocade sofas, sinking into the real feather cushions.

"Well, what now?" I asked. "How long do you think we have until Aithne finds out I'm here?"

Caimbeui went to the French doors leading out to the terrace and pushed them open. The air was sweet up here, with none of the sour, acrid smells I nor- mally associated with cities. I knew they'd done much to manipulate the land in the Tir. The magical energy fairly pulsed in the air. If they'd put out a large neon sign telling the Enemy "Come and get us," they couldn't have done better.

I knew there were now old-growth forests where only a few years before there had been fallow land. Extinct species populated these forests-how they'd managed that I suspected I knew, but I hoped I was just being paranoid.

"Not long," Caimbeui said. "Aithne has spies ev- erywhere. Fortunately, he's away from Portland right now. And we know Alachia was in Tir na n6g. Though I suspect after our visit she might be here al- ready. But I've never been very good at predicting what she will do next.

"There's a celebration planned for this even- ing. Something to do with The Rite of Progres- sion."

I got up from the couch and came over to where Caimbeui stood by the open doors. It was already getting dark. The gray misting sky oppressive and bleak.

"You don't like it here," I said.

"No."

"Neither do I. It reminds me too much of the days when Alachia was Queen. What she turned so many of us into. It frightens me because I think it could all happen again. Especially when I see that the Enemy is coming again."

Caimbeui stepped behind me, then wrapped his arms about my waist. It was very comforting to stand there in the slowly falling chill night with him warm and solid against my back. He rested his chin on my head.

"But things are different now," he said. "The world is different. We can keep the past from hap- pening again."

"I hope you're right." "I am," he said. "I am."

And we stayed there for a while, in the darkness, resting against each other for support.

"Did you think I had forgotten you?" Ysrthgrathe asks.

She freezes, finding herself not in the safety of Caimbeul's arms, but embraced by her enemy. His arms are thickly muscled and hold her so tight that even though she struggles, it's as if she has never moved.

Then his mouth is at her ear, breath hot against the tender flesh. "I have been waiting for you so pa- tiently, my sweet. This delay is but a heartbeat for me. The blink of an eye. And there is nothing you can do that will stop me this time. Not running to your precious Aithne. Not dragging that clown be- hind you. None of them will save you from me this time."