At last they entered a kingdom of the dwarves, the Dwarves in Silver Mountain. By their leave, men dwelt within its edges, living much as they did just westward, but paying land fees. For dwarves were not greatly interested in the surface, and at any rate considered these no more than foothills to the greater mountains just eastward.

In a north-south valley was the new Cloister of the Sisters, a sizeable area protected by spells and a stockade. Inside were buildings of new lumber, and areas of tents. Crews of men, no doubt hired from some king, were busy at construction. In the south end, gardens had already been set out, and new grass grew emerald between paths. In the center, Varia could see what could only be the Dynast's "palace," a large canvas pavilion. Stacks of white marble blocks stood nearby, promising a real palace like the one destroyed at Ferny Cove. She wondered where the wealth had come from to have all this built so quickly. Or indeed how the King in Silver Mountain had come to approve their settling there, for in general, dwarves avoided commitments with outsiders, except for business.

Despite her uncertain but surely not favorable status, Varia was excited to see it. Clearly many more of the Sisterhood had escaped Ferny Cove than Idri had indicated, no doubt dispersed and traveling under cover of spells cast by the more talented. Taking with them more wealth, probably in jewels, than Varia had supposed.

And in this kingdom, the community would have the protection of the dwarves, whom even the ylver relied on and were careful of. For it was dwarves who dug the ores and smelted much of the metal used by men and ylver between the oceans; dwarves who crafted the better tools and weapons. Dwarves were quick to take offense, and very slow to forgive. Further, to seriously offend any dwarvish kingdom was to offend all of them, despite their differences, rivalries, and occasional feuds. And tradition told that when they made war, they were relentless and grim, while no one knew how many thousands could come pouring from the bowels of the mountains.

This, she told herself, was a good place for the Sisterhood to recover and grow, and build its strength.

A page, a pre-adolescent Sister, showed them to separate quarters. Varia was taken to a low, temporary barracks, where she would share a room with clone mates. There were feather beds, and a large copper tub. Water, the page told her, was piped from a hot spring.

Her clone mates were at their duties, and though she was eager to see them, it felt good to be alone. She soaked and soaped, scrubbed her skin with a brush and toweled herself dry, then donned a clean robe and luxuriated on her feather bed.

And examined her situation. There seemed essentially no chance of getting back to Farside and Curtis-not in the near future. But life could be good here; she could adjust. There'd be lots of work, and time would bring opportunities.

That evening she ate in a women's dining hall with perhaps a hundred Sisters. Three of her clone were there; she recognized them like she recognized her face in the mirror, and shared an embrace and happy tears with Liiset. After supper, the two of them walked around the extensive grounds-a large village, essentially. They talked, Varia saying little about the Macurdies and nothing at all about her capture. As if Idri had simply requested her to come; as if she'd returned willingly. While Liiset ignored Ferny Cove, speaking of construction projects and planting, new developments in ceramics, and promising new magicks for manipulating physical traits during embryogenesis.

Finally a cold evening breeze from the mountains sent them indoors. It had been an affectionate reunion. Liiset was more serious than in years past, hadn't shown her whimsical humor, but that was hardly surprising after the events at Ferny Cove.

Meanwhile it seemed to Varia that she was home now, in the sense of childhood home, even if it wasn't the same location she'd left more than twenty years before. A ruder, relocated version of home.

For the first time since she'd been kidnapped, she lay down relaxed. And as she waited for sleep, it struck her that Sarkia would still be interested in Curtis; she'd gone to a lot of trouble to get children from the Macurdy line. Surely she'll let me go back for him, Varia thought. Or more likely have me taken back.

She didn't doubt he'd come if she asked him. She'd put a condition on the asking though: She'd share him with the others, but Sarkia would have to let the two of them live together as man and wife.

The prospect brought warmth. It would work, she had no doubt. She could make it go right.

7: Tigers!

She slept through breakfast and most of the morning, wakening slowly, aware finally that she'd slept the clock around. Up! she told herself. Up and face the day! Then burrowed deeper into the security and comfort of the thick feather mattress.

But when she peeked again, the clock (which bore the name Westclox on its face and had been made in Norcross, Georgia, in another universe) said 11:32, and she discovered she was hungry. So dragging herself from bed, she washed and dressed, and by noon had joined a growing crowd of attractive women, ages twelve to perhaps ninety, in the dining room. She was among the earlier arrivals, and there was room beside her, but somehow Liiset, when she came in, took a seat at the other end of the room. Without acknowledging her wave or meeting her eyes.

A guardsman intercepted her as she left. (Recognizing identities among look-alikes was a talent that turned on early in the Sisterhood, with both girls and boys, even among those like Idri who did not see auras.) His face told her nothing, and his aura scarcely more, for this errand meant little to him, but she followed with an empty feeling. To the Dynast's office.

When she entered, she knew at once that here was trouble, the trouble she'd avoided thinking about. Two persons awaited her. One was Idri, with a look of hard-eyed satisfaction. The other was the Dynast, older than any other Sister, ever, by at least a century. A Sister of awesomely long life and memory. She'd been Dynast when Curtis's great-great-grandfather had run away. Yet she could pass easily for twenty-five, if you ignored her eyes and aura.

"Welcome home, Sister Varia," Sarkia said amiably. "I see you're pregnant."

It didn't show physically yet, but any Sister who could see auras could tell.

"You realize why you're here, of course."

Varia nodded. This would be her hearing for refusing an order, and perhaps for desertion. "Yes, Sister Sarkia."

"Very well." The Dynast recited the charges in an almost kindly tone. "Do you deny either of them, in kind or in spirit?"

"No, Sister Sarkia."

"Can you cite extenuating circumstances?"

"Only that the events at Ferny Cove were described to me as much more drastic than they actually were. It seemed to me that the Sisterhood had been destroyed."

The Dynast's eyes and aura showed no agitation. "But obviously it was not," she said. "You lacked faith, no doubt because of your long separation from us. Well. We must get you back into the spirit of service and discipline. Yours is our most fertile clone, and you and Will Macurdy much our most fertile pairing. You should have brought his nephew through, as ordered." She paused, seeming to consider. "I'm assigning you to duties in the creche; this will go well with your pregnancy. Meanwhile you'll maintain your physical health by participating in the morning drills."

She stopped there and sat wordless for a minute, her eyes holding Varia like a bug on a pin. "Then, after a suitable post-partum recovery, you will be assigned to a Tiger barracks for re-impregnation."