"Don't try to discuss anything with him, Aina," said Caimbeul. While Ehran and I had been talking, he'd walked to the window and pulled open the drapes. Weak sunlight filled the room. The sky was overcast and looked like it might rain.

"Don't listen to him, Aina," said Ehran. "He just thinks-"

"Would you both shut up?" I nearly shouted. "Haven't you grown tired of all this bickering? There are more important matters at stake than your interminable feud."

"Well, now we're getting down to it," said Ehran.

"For heaven's sake, Aina," said Caimbeul. "Don't breathe a word to him. He'll go running to everyone else quick as you please, and you'll be sunk before you've had a fair hearing."

Then they were off and running. Nothing ever got solved between the two of them-it was still that old business. I confess, my sympathies lay with Caim- beui-he was the aggrieved party, after all-but that's another story, for another time.

I waited until they ran out of steam, which they eventually did. They sat at opposite ends of the room glowering at each other.

"So," I said. "What would you both like for breakfast?"

"Why won't you tell me?" Ehran asked for per- haps the thirtieth time.

I wiped my mouth with the napkin and dropped it onto my empty plate with the remains of the lavish breakfast we'd ordered. Caimbeui had loaded a plate with food, then disappeared into his bedroom. Pour- ing myself another cup of coffee-the real stuff, not that awful soykaf-I got up and went to one of the large armchairs and plopped down on it.

"First, because you and Aithne are long-time friends. I suspect anything you hear from me goes straight back to him. Second, you're also close to Alachia. Oh, don't give me the surprised look. I know she's been a member of the Council since the beginning. You were smart to try to keep that secret, though. There are still a few of us who remember the old days.

"I would hate to think what might happen should Alachia's influence become more… assertive. I be- lieve things might get very difficult indeed. Just re- member, Lofwyr is keeping an eye on things."

Ehran didn't say anything, but leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. I got up and went to open the terrace doors. Nasty habit, that. I'd taken it up briefly and put it aside as quickly. The Indians had the right idea about tobacco. It wasn't a thing to be taken casually. They understood that. Unfortunately, the Europeans didn't.

"I might think that there was a threat in what you're saying," said Ehran.

"No," I said softly. "I don't threaten. You know better than that. I'm just letting you know my position."

"Don't you think it's a bad idea to alienate me right before the meeting of the Council?" He blew little smoke rings and watched them float away from him.

"I know you're willing to hear the truth. And that you might be willing to overlook my unfortunate choice in companions."

Ehran smiled at me. "I've always liked you, de- spite your strange politics." "That and Aithne."

"Yes," he said. "We've all made enemies of one another over the years. It comes from time and con- tact. Such a terrible thing-to be bound together over such a span. Do you sometimes grow weary?"

"Oh, yes," I said. I rose from my chair and went to the terrace doors to close them. Now that Ehran had finished with his cigarette, I found the chill air more than I could bear. It seeped into my bones to- day. I tried to blame it on the humidity, the gray sky, the wind.

"Sometimes," he said softly, "I wonder if we all don't go a little mad from it. In our own ways, of course,"

"How so?"

"Harlequin's and my ongoing quarrel. Alachia's actions in Blood Wood. Your own rejection of your people for the Great Worms. Are not all of these in- sanity?"

"It all depends on where you're looking from," I replied.

He pushed himself away from the table. "I won't say anything to anyone about your being here," he said. "You may count on my discretion. By the way, whatever happened to young Oakforest? Glasgian, you remember? He was seen coming up here, then he never came out. Where is he?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said. "Maybe your spies got it wrong."

"I doubt it. They're quite good at this sort of thing."

"Well, he's not here."

"Then you won't mind if I take a look-"

"Yes, I would," I said quickly. "You're treading a fine line here, Ehran. Even if he were here, which he's not, it wouldn't be any of your business. Let's leave it at that. Shall we?"

He gave another faint smile. "Very well, Aina," he said. "But this is a dangerous game you're playing."

I walked to the door and opened it. "I know, but when has it ever not been?"

As soon as the door shut, Caimbeui opened the door to his room and peered out.

"I thought he'd never leave," he said.

"I can't believe you left me here to deal with him," I said. "And he knows about Glasgian."

"Yes, I heard that."

"Well, we've got to get him out of here," I said. "I just don't know if he's up to anything but the con- ventional means."

"We may have no other choice."

I nodded, then turned and walked over to my bed- room door and opened it. The room was still dark, the shades pulled. A wedge of light from the living room spilled across the bed, which was empty. I hit the switch on the wall, flooding the room with elec- tric light.

The room was empty. Glasgian Oakforest was gone.

"He's gone," I said.

"What?"

"He's gone."

Caimbeui elbowed past me into the room.

"Maybe the bathroom?" he asked.

I pointed to the open bathroom door. "Unless he's thinner than I remember. Or he's hiding in the shower stall."

Caimbeui went and checked in the stall. "No, not here."

I sagged against the dresser facing the bed. 'This is very bad," I said. "What if he goes to Aithne? We're lost then."

"I don't think he'll do that," Caimbeui said. He touched the bed where Glasgian had lain. "It's cold. He's probably been gone for a while. I suspect he didn't leave by the usual methods, because other- wise Ehran wouldn't have asked about him."

"Maybe Ehran took him," I said.

Caimbeui shook his head. "Not his style. Now, I'd expect it from Alachia, except she'd be here now crowing about it. And I don't think her network is as sophisticated as Ehran's. What surprises me is that we haven't heard from Aithne yet."

"Dumb luck," I said. "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing," he replied. "For right now. Whoever has him will show their hand eventually, and if he got out of here himself, then I doubt we'll hear any- thing. He'll be too damn scared. After all, he's had a look at what happens to people who get on the wrong side of your faithful companion."

"Don't call him that," I snapped. "I haven't seen him in millennia. I took care of him long ago. You know that. I'm tired of paying for that mistake. It won't just be me facing him this time. I'll have the support of the others."

Caimbeui shrugged. "Perhaps," he said. "There's no telling what they'll do."

I ran a hand across my scalp. "They've got to see what's happening. After you tell them about Maui, they'll understand. But what has me worried is how anyone got past those wards."

Caimbeui didn't say anything.

The rest of the day dragged on interminably. After the way the morning went, I kept expecting more unwelcome visitors. But they never arrived.

The maids came and tidied the rooms, and I won- dered which one of them was Ehran's spy. Or maybe all of them were.

I jumped at every noise, and Caimbeul's annoying habits became more and more glaring. Pencil- tapping. Humming. Leg-jiggling. He twitched and fidgeted and moved around like a six-year-old need- ing to pee.