Araminta noticed that Darraklan didn’t have any gaiafield emission relating to the Cleric whatsoever. But then, in his own repellent ass-kissing way, Rincenso was also striving hard for favored status. She could use that; he’d want to score points by exposing any of his colleagues who doubted or schemed against her.

“Show him in,” she said.

The Cleric came into the dining room as the corona of Querencia’s sun erupted with flares all across the ceiling. The bright rippling light shining off his robes and highlighting his eager smile had an almost aquatic property. He bowed politely. “Dreamer.”

Araminta gazed at him as she sipped her chocolate. It was delicious. Thank Ozzie, being a galaxy killer should have some perks, surely. “Did you find them for me?”

“Yes, Dreamer. The women were at the mansion on Viotia. He was actually already here; our security services have been holding him.”

“Why?”

Rincenso’s smile became stretched. “It was thought he might be shielding you from our Welcome Team.”

“Ah. He wasn’t. I eluded them by myself.” A pause for emphasis. “It wasn’t that difficult.”

“Not for you, Dreamer.”

He was so smooth, he almost spoiled the taste of the chocolate for her. “Is he here now?”

“Yes.”

“Bring him in.”

Rincenso hesitated. “Dreamer, he was interrogated very thoroughly.”

“Thoroughly? You mean …” She didn’t like to dwell on that too much. I make a truly rotten despot.

“He was given a memory read, yes.”

“Honious! Bring him in.”

The man led through the dining room doors, who needed to be supported by a burly security guard in a constable’s uniform, had the body of Likan, but the spirit was definitely withered. Any lingering anger she felt toward him was immediately banished. She got up and pulled out the chair next to her. The security guard helped him into it. There was no evidence of any physical damage, but his limbs were shaking badly, and he hunched up as if he were cowering from some omnipresent tormentor.

“I’m sorry,” Araminta said. “I didn’t know.”

“You,” he said with a bitter snarl. “There was always something about you.”

“You were quite the personality yourself.”

“That’s not what you told me when we parted.” He glared around the big room. “That’s on record now. You know I’m telling the truth.”

“They will give all the copies back to you. I wish it to be so,” she said with simple authority. Rincenso nodded discreetly. “You can destroy them if you’d like.”

“Ha. And what use will that be when the boundary comes reaching out of the stars to obliterate all of us?”

“A question I’m sure you asked yourself when you facilitated Viotia’s compliance with Conservator Ethan’s scheme. That whole monstrous invasion was dedicated to one purpose: to find me. What did you think the Second Dreamer was going to do once I ascended to the Orchard Palace?”

He forced his head to shake despite the jerkiness of his muscles.

“Like all nonbelievers, you considered us to be foolish and deluded,” she continued. “You put your own greed before anything.”

“I do not let greed drive me. I have strategy. I have logic and planning.”

“Likan … I’m not interested. Whatever there was between us is long gone. You’re here today to correct an injustice.”

“I fuck your apology all the way to hell. I hope the warrior Raiel blows your Pilgrimage fleet to shit. The rest of us will have the greatest party history has ever known to celebrate your death.”

“I’m not apologizing for your interrogation; you brought that upon yourself.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m going to plead with the Raiel to turn you over to the Prime. And we all know what they do to humans, don’t we?”

She could feel billions urging him on, hoping his desire succeeded. “I’m prepared to let you go free,” she said.

“What?”

“Free to go back to Viotia, perhaps? Our wormhole will be closing today or tomorrow now that all my followers have returned home. Free for the Viotia authorities to question you about your part in the government’s corrupt submission to Cleric Phelim and the invasion-oh, Phelim’s coming back to Ellezelin and joining the Pilgrimage fleet. Who will that leave to face trial, do you think? And I will look favorably on any request to turn over your read memories to them for examination. What evidence of treason will that turn up?”

His whole body juddered. “You said …”

“I said I’d like to release you. But there is an injustice to right first, one that only you can do.”

“Bitch!”

“Phelim took your harem into custody. They’re already here. I’ve got the best genetic team on Ellezelin ready to treat them. The problem is, we didn’t read your memories from that long ago.”

Likan glared at her fearfully.

“Which three, Likan? Once I know, you’ll be released; you have my word as the Dreamer on that. A starship will take you wherever you wish to go. We can even reprofile you first if you’d like.”

“What’s the point?” he wailed, close to tears.

“The point is success. Do you think that ultimately I will succeed? Or will you and your way of life? I know which choice Nigel Sheldon would make. Do you?”

His head dropped. When he brought it up again, the shakes and tics were overridden by a ferocious snarl. The old Likan was glowering out at her. “Oh, yes, Madam Dreamer. I’ll take your deal; I will comply. But remember, it will leave me free to hunt you down when you fail, because a miserable fuck-up like you couldn’t pull off something this grand in a million years, not a chance.”

“We’ll see,” she growled back.

“Marakata, Krisana, and Tammary,” Likan said.

“Thank you.”

“They’ll kill you, your new friends, even if I don’t get there first. Once you’ve given them what they want, they’ll kill you. This is too big for you. You were small-time when I picked you up and screwed you, and you’re still small-time now.”

“Win-win for you, then,” she said coolly. At the back of her mind the Skylord was showing an interest in why she was becoming so agitated. “Get rid of him,” she told the security guard.

Likan was hauled roughly to his feet. There was a starship waiting for him at Greater Makkathran’s spaceport. She’d organized it all last night, using her u-shadow to send messages to Phelim and Rincenso and Ethan in private, editing it all out of what she released into the gaiafield. Phelim had few troops left on Viotia, but he was desperate to redeem himself, so he expended every effort. She knew poor little Clemance and the others would have been terrified as the remnants of the Welcome Team snatched them: bundled into a capsule when the rest of the planet was rejoicing the lifting of tyranny, not knowing where they were being taken or why, then being forced through the wormhole to Ellezelin itself. If the Dreamer Araminta was now regarded as the devil, this planet was surely her realm.

But in a couple of hours they’d be reunited with Likan-those who wanted to be. The starship would fly them to an Inner world of his choice. She’d supplied untraceable funds, she’d supplied new identities. There was nothing more she could do.

The three he’d violated would spend a couple of months in a womb-tank here in Greater Makkathran having their psychoneural profiling reversed. When they came out, they could make their own choices again. That’s if there’s a galaxy left to come back out into. It didn’t matter; she’d done the right thing.

She looked over at Darraklan. “Is Ethan ready?”

“Yes, Dreamer.”

“Right, then.” She got to her feet, starting to resent Inigo’s stupid proscription that no capsules should be allowed to fly above Makkathran2. It meant such long walks or gondola rides (which she actually quite liked) or riding on horseback, and no way was she going to do that; her one time on a pony when she was seven hadn’t ended well.