"A great deal, actually,” said Margit. “Such as how you came to be here at all."

Venera nodded slowly. She had been thinking about that, and the conclusions she had come to had motivated her to run as much as the facts about Moss. “I arrived here through an odd chain of events,” she said. “At the time I wasn't prepared to wonder why there were armed troops sneaking over the lawns of Spyre during the nighttime. I was mostly concerned with evading them. But they pursued me here. Why here? At the time, I didn't know enough to even ask the question."

Margit raised an eyebrow and sat back.

"It's my father, you see,” said Venera in a confessional tone. “He's flagrantly paranoid, and he wanted his daughters to be as well. He raised me to disbelieve coincidence. So if I was herded here, what could the reason be? The troops who were following me weren't from Liris. In fact, I assumed they weren't after me at all, but were chasing down another trespasser whom I had met. It wasn't until today that I realized that those other soldiers had been from Sacrus."

Margit laughed. “That truly is paranoid. You would implicate my nation in every one of your misfortunes?"

"No, just this one.” She sat forward. “Since we're talking, though, I'd like to ask you a couple of questions.” Smiling her maddening smile, Margit nodded. “The first question is whether you maintain constant contact with your nation. I've been told you don't, but I don't believe that."

Margit shrugged. “It would be easy. So what if I did? Can't a daughter talk to her parents?"

"The second question,” said Venera, “is whether Sacrus itself travels regularly into the principalities.” Seeing Margit's suddenly guarded expression, Venera nodded. “You do, don't you?"

"So what?"

"Someone guessed where I had come from,” marveled Venera. “More than likely the Gehellens have circulated descriptions of myself and my husband throughout the principalities. They seek us, and it's an open secret why."

Margit grinned in obvious delight. “Oh, you are smart! I was right to bring you into Liris in the way I did."

Venera cocked her head. “What other way was there?"

"Oh, I think you can guess."

"Under duress. Tortured,” said Venera. “Why do you think I tried to flee just now? It suddenly made no sense to me that I was walking around freely. And your offer to let me travel outside Spyre… made even less sense."

"You became alarmed. That's understandable. I was told to learn everything you know about the Key to Candesce,” said Margit. “You figured that out, of course."

Venera looked innocent. “Sorry, the what?"

Margit stood up and paced over to a side table. “Drink?” Venera shook her head.

"Something happened a short time ago,” said the botanist. She stood with her back to Venera, and in those seconds Venera looked around quickly for anything that might give her an advantage. There were no handy hat-pins, letter openers, or pistols lying on the pillowed furniture. She did spot a battered wooden cabinet that looked markedly out of place compared to the rest of the pieces, but had no time to get to it before Margit turned again, drink in hand.

"Something happened,” Margit repeated, “a fight in the capital of Gehellen, rumors of a stolen treasure, and then an event that our scientists are starting to refer to as the outage."

Venera tensed. She hadn't expected Margit to know this part of the story.

"Candesce does many things besides light our skies,” said the botanist. “We watch the sun of suns closely; we have to, our very lives depend on it. So when one of Candesce's many systems shuts down, even for a moment, we know about it. Even though such an event has not occurred in living memory."

She sat down again. “Only someone with a key could enter Candesce and manipulate it. And the last key was lost centuries ago. You can imagine the uproar that the outage has caused, here and abroad. The principalities are mobilizing, and agents of the Virga Home Guard have been seen nosing around, even here."

Home guard? Venera had never heard of them. But she wanted to kick herself for failing to realize that the gambit she and her husband had played would alert all the powers in the world. Hit another trip wire, she mused.

"It was only a matter of days before we had your name and description and that of your husband and others in your party,” said Margit. “We pay our spies well. So when a woman fitting that description miraculously appeared in the skies of Greater Spyre, we acted."

"Clearly, I've been a fool,” said Venera bitterly. “Then it was Sacrus troops who drove me here?"

"I actually don't know for sure,” Margit admitted. “Our men were out that night, I know that much. But there may have been others as well. In any case, once I communicated that I had you, I was told to hand you and the key over. I couldn't very well refuse my masters the key—but you, I declined to part with."

Venera felt a pulse of anxious anger as she realized what Margit was saying. “Then the key is—"

"Locked away in the Gray Infirmary, where Sacrus keeps all their new acquisitions,” said Margit with some smugness. She drained her wineglass and tilted it at Venera. “But you're here. I took Liris in order to have a base from which to grow my own power. You provide potential leverage. Why should I give you up?"

"And the offer to let me travel…?"

"I increase my leverage and buy some insurance by getting you out of Spyre and to a safe place that only I know about,” said Margit. “But you should really be happy that I haven't tortured you for what you know. I'd prefer to have you on my side. You must admit, I've treated you well."

Cautiously, Venera nodded. “It was too risky to keep the key to Candesce for yourself. But a lesser piece of leverage…"

"…Who knows something vital about it that I can trade… that's useful to me at the moment.” Margit smiled, catlike.

It still didn't quite add up. “Why did you let me go up to Lesser Spyre?” Venera asked. “Why risk exposing me at the fair?"

"That was to prove that I had you,” said Margit with a shrug. “While I was negotiating what to give up. Sacrus was at the fair. I told them to watch for you, but with the guards and defenses that surround the fair, they couldn't snatch you from me. It was the safest place in Spyre to display you."

Someone unused to being used as a political pawn might have been surprised at these revelations. For Venera, discovering that she had been played was almost reassuring. It placed her in a familiar role.

She knew exactly what Sacrus was going to do now. Venera had fantasized about it herself: you took the key and entered Candesce, and then shut down the sun of suns. As the darkness and cold began to seep into the principalities, you made your demands of the millions whose lives depended on Candesce. You could ask for anything—power, money, hostages, or slaves. Your leverage would be total.

It would help to have enough experienced men to crew a navy, though, because one of your first demands would be that the principalities deliver up their own ships. “Sacrus doesn't have any ships, do they?” she asked. “Surely not enough to run the blockade that the principalities would put in place."

Margit shrugged. “Oh, we have several. Sacrus is a big nation. But in terms of weapons…” She laughed, and it wasn't a pleasant laugh. “I doubt we would have to worry much about any fleet of the principalities."

Her confidence was suddenly unnerving. Margit sauntered over to the battered wooden cabinet and opened the top. “Since you're here,” she said, “let's talk about the key to Candesce."

"Let's not.” Venera stood up. “My knowledge is my only bargaining chip, after all. I'm not going to squander that."

This time Margit didn't answer. She pulled a bell-rope that hung next to the cabinet.