“Daddy!” the twins chorused in disapproval.

“I wonder if Dylorn will be wed,” Kristabel said softly; there was a brief pang of regret-swiftly banished-at being parted from her children for so long.

“Without us there?” Analee sounded shocked.

“He wouldn’t dare.”

“You two did,” Edeard pointed out.

“That’s different.”

“We had you there.”

“Which makes it proper.”

Edeard sighed and grinned at the horizon. “Not long now. And Lady, we’re going to have the reunion party of all time.”

Makkathran appeared over the horizon just before noon on the thirty-eighth day after Manel had sighted the first eastern isle. The crew of the Lady’s Light knew it was near. Cargo ships had been a regular sighting for days, and early that morning they’d passed the outbound fishing fleet from Portheves, a village not ten miles from the city itself. Once they’d recovered from their shock, the fishermen had stood and cheered as the giant boats of the flotilla slid past.

By midmorning, they had a loose escort of a dozen traders heading toward the coastline. Good-hearted, curious longshouts from their new companions were thrown their way as they plowed through the crisp blue water. Then Makkathran emerged, its sturdy towers the first aspect to rise up over the horizon, their sharp pinnacles piercing the cloudless azure sky. A fervent rush of farsight swept out from the city to wash across the flotilla, accompanied by astonishment and a burst of exultant welcomes. Everyone was up on deck to see the city they’d left behind just over four years ago. Edeard thought the ships would just fly onward through the water even without any wind, so strong was the compulsion to make it home now. They must have been quite a sight to those in the city. Each magnificent ship had set out with three full sets of snow-white sails; now the Lady’s Light was rigged with a grubby patchwork of canvas stitched together from whatever sails remained after years of sun bleaching, storms, and frozen winters in which ice crystals hung heavy from every seam and rope. Both the Lady’s Star and the Lady’s Guidance had broad repairs of a softer tropical wood on their waterline where the coral of the Auguste Sea had breached them despite the crew’s best telekinetic efforts to snap the vicious submerged spines. Several ships had new masts to replace ones that were snapped off in various gales.

But we made it despite everything this world threw at us. Edeard grinned at Makkathran as the wondrously familiar outline of his home grew clearer. You can see that, you can see our triumph in the patches and the damage and the cargo of knowledge we’ve returned with. We’ve opened up the whole world for everyone.

Slowly, though, his grin began to fade as he took notice of the thoughts swirling among the vast districts. The city’s mental timbre had changed. For a while he was puzzled by the flashes of anger shivering beneath the surface clamor of excitement at the flotilla’s return. Then he gradually became aware of the minds grouped together outside the north gate, thousands of them. Among those bright knots of rage and resentment he could find no hint of excitement or jubilation at the flotilla’s arrival. They were completely at odds with the rest of the city.

“Uh oh,” he mumbled under his breath. His farsight reached out to see what in Honious was going on. The first thing he sensed was the militia, deployed around the gate and in long dugout formations along the road through the greensward into the encircling forest. By tradition, that area outside the city was always kept empty and uninhabited. Not anymore. Dozens of huge camps had sprung up on the meadowland, and from what he could determine, a lot of the ancient trees had been felled, presumably as fuel for the campfires.

“What is it?” Kristabel asked as he struggled to shield the dismay growing in his own mind.

“Some kind of siege, but that’s not quite it.” He grudgingly gifted her his farsight.

“Oh, Lady,” she grumbled. “Where did they come from?”

He shrugged, trying to find some kind of clue. But such a feat was beyond farsight, especially at such a distance. “We’ll find out soon enough. And then everyone will expect the Waterwalker to put it right.” He couldn’t help how martyred he sounded, not to mention self-pitying.

“Edeard.” She gently rubbed the top of his back between his shoulder blades. “Why do you always punish yourself like this?”

“Because I’m the one who always has to sort everything out. Oh, Ladycrapit, it just never stops. Every time I think I’ve got it right, someone comes along with a fresh way to foul things up.”

“Darling Edeard, you’re really far too hard on yourself.”

“No, I’m not,” he said bitterly. “It’s my responsibility. I’m responsible for this whole world. Me. No one else.”

“Don’t be silly, Edeard.” Kristabel’s voice and mind hardened. “Now, please don’t do this whole intolerable burden thing again; I had enough of it before. What’s important now is to get the twins ashore; they need to get to the mansion to give birth, poor things. Concentrate on that if you have to have something to moan about.”

“Intolerable burden thing?” he asked quietly; he could barely believe what she’d just said.

“Yes,” Kristabel said firmly, giving him an uncompromising look. “The Lady knows how impossible you’d become before we built the flotilla. That’s the main reason I agreed the estate would pay for it all. And this voyage worked, Edeard. For the Lady’s sake, you were back to normal. You were you again. Now this. We haven’t even got ashore yet, and already you’re moaning that everything’s going against you.”

Ladydamnit, you have no fucking idea! He glared at her furiously and stomped off down the deck.

“Daddy?” Jiska asked with a worried frown.

But he was in no mood to talk, not even to her.

Thousands were lining the quays and wharfs as the flotilla’s longboats made it through the great waterside opening in the city walls into the Port district. There were fifteen boats in the first batch, all of them rowed by a regulation team of ge-chimps sculpted with broad shoulders and muscular arms, so the oars fairly whizzed through the water. Edeard was on the second boat; Kristabel and Taralee had taken the twins and Marvane ahead on the first. Edeard had a fast directed longtalk to an elated Rolar, making sure a couple of family gondolas were waiting in the port to take them straight back to the ziggurat. The twins were in a great deal of discomfort, in Edeard’s belief a condition partly owing to their fixation on giving birth on land. Taralee had privately confirmed they weren’t due for another couple of days yet, though they were complaining as if their labor had begun already.

He kept company with Jiska and Natran and Manel and a half dozen officers and their wives and children; it was a merry group, all of whom were waving frantically at the cheering crowds. Except him; he simply couldn’t summon the enthusiasm and sat at the back of the longboat in a private sulk.

“By the Lady, we’d given up on you at least a couple of years back,” Macsen’s directed longtalk declared. “Did you walk around the world instead? It’s taken you forever.”

Finally, Edeard consented to a grin. There was his friend standing at the head of the very hastily assembled official welcoming committee of Grand Councillors, district representatives, officials, and family. A huge group of them squashed onto Wharf One, anxious that no one should move about too much lest those on the front rank topple into the sea. They’d dressed in their most colorful and expensive robes, though the strong sea breeze blew their hair and hems about in an undignified manor. Macsen and Dinlay were at the forefront, of course, waving wildly. Dinlay had one arm around a tall, powerfully built girl. Edeard didn’t care that he didn’t know her. It wasn’t Gealee, which was all that truly mattered. His gaze switched to Macsen, who was by himself. The master of Sampalok had put on a disturbing amount of weight over the intervening years.