“Well, go on, then.”

“The ambassador, you know, wanders freely around the city every day. We were keeping him under house arrest, but at Nialli Apuilana’s request it was lifted. And now he is corrupting the children, lady.”

She stared at him. “Corrupting?”

“Spreading hjjk beliefs among them. He teaches them such concepts as Nest-truth, Queen-love, Nest-bond, Egg-plan. You know those terms?”

“I’ve heard them, yes. Everyone has. I don’t really know what they mean.”

“If you’d like to know, you could ask any child in the city. Especially the very young ones. Kundalimon preaches to them daily. Daily he fills their heads with this evil nonsense.”

Taniane took a deep breath. “Are you sure of this?”

“He is very closely watched, lady.”

“And the children — do they listen to him?”

“Lady, they listen and believe! Their whole attitude toward the hjjks is changing. They don’t think of them the way the rest of us do, any longer. They don’t see them as repulsive. They don’t see them as evil. Talk to one of the children, lady, almost any child at all. You’ll find out. Kundalimon’s got them believing that the hjjks are deep and wise. Godlike, almost. Or at least creatures of some special high nature. He tells them how ancient the hjjks are, how important they were during the Great World days. You know how fascinated all children are by fables and tales of the Great World. And here he is, letting them know that people of one of the six Great World races still exist in our own time, and live in some fantastic underground castle far away, and want nothing more than to spread their loving wisdom among us—”

“Yes,” Taniane said crisply. “I see the danger. But what does he mean to do? Lead all of our little ones out of the city like a piper playing a merry tune, and dance them across the hills and valleys to the Nest?”

“He might have that in mind, for all I know.”

“And you say that Nialli Apuilana’s involved in this? How?”

Husathirn Mueri leaned forward until his face was thrust practically into hers.

“Lady, she and the ambassador Kundalimon are lovers.”

“Lovers?”

“You know that she goes to his room every day, lady. To bring him his food, to teach him our language.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Lady, sometimes she spends the entire night with him. My guards have heard sounds coming from the room that — forgive me, lady, forgive me! — can only be the sounds of coupling.”

“Well, what of it?” Taniane flicked her hand through the air in an irritated gesture. “Coupling’s a healthy thing. She’s never been much interested in it. It’s high time she developed a liking for it, and then some.”

Husathirn Mueri’s expression turned stark, as though Taniane had begun lopping off his fingers one by one.

“Lady—” he began feebly.

“Nialli’s a grown woman. She can couple with anybody she pleases. Even the hjjk ambassador.”

“Lady, they are twining also.”

“What?” Taniane cried, caught by surprise. Twining was an altogether different matter. The thought of their souls fusing, of Kundalimon pouring feverish hjjk-fantasies into her daughter’s mind, unstable as it was already from her experiences in captivity, stunned her. For a moment she felt herself swaying, as though her legs would give out beneath her and send her toppling to the pink marble floor. She fought to regain control of herself. “How could you possibly know that?” she asked.

“I have no proof, lady,” said Husathirn Mueri huskily. “You understand that I have compunctions about spying on them. But the amount of time they spend together — the degree of intimacy — the fact that they have a common history of captivity among the hjjks — and also that they are unquestionably lovers already, and are of twining age—”

“You’re only guessing, then.”

“But guessing accurately, I think.”

“Yes. Yes, I see what you mean.”

Taniane glanced out the window. The rain was slackening again after the sudden severe downpour, and the sky was growing bright.

“Do you have instructions for me, lady?”

“Yes. Yes.” Her throat was dry, her head was throbbing. Time to be on her way, time to appear at the Beng temple and perform the rite that would send Nakhaba off to the Creator’s abode. The image of Nialli and Kundalimon twining blazed in her mind. She tried to push it away, and it would not go. Tautly she said, “Keep an eye on her, the way you’ve been doing. If you can find out what’s actually going on between her and Kundalimon, I want to know about it. But make sure she doesn’t suspect she’s being watched.”

“Of course. And how should we handle the other part, the teaching of hjjk doctrines to small children?”

The chieftain turned to face him. “That has to be brought to a stop right away. We can’t have him subverting the young. You understand what I’m saying? Brought to a stop.”

“Yes, lady. I understand. I understand completely.”

The drizzly dawn of the day of the Festival of Dawinno found Hresh at the House of Knowledge, making notes on his visit to the caviandis. Later in the day he would have to show himself at the Festival, take his seat beside Taniane in the place of honor, watch the city’s young athletes go through their paces. To skip the games would be scandalous, and impious besides. The Festival had been his own invention, after all, many years ago, in homage to the clever and unpredictable god who was his special patron, and the city’s. But he still had a few hours for getting some work done.

He heard sounds outside his half-open door. A light tapping, a gentle coughing.

“Father?”

“Nialli? Is it time to go to the games already?”

“It’s still early. I wanted to talk to you before everything gets started.” A pause. “I’m not alone.”

Hresh squinted into the darkness. “Who’s with you?”

“Kundalimon. We want to talk to you together.”

“Ah.” He pressed the palms of his hands against each other. “All right, come in, both of you.”

They were damp from the rain, but the moisture, instead of soaking into their fur, seemed to cling in shining globules to the tips of it. And they were shining too. There was a radiance about them, a glow of rare joy. They stood before him holding hands like innocent children, brimming with evident happiness, overflowing with it.

Hresh felt an uneasy mixture of pleasure and anxious anticipation at the sight of them. He understood only too well that glow of inner fire that emanated from them both.

They giggled and glanced at each other, but neither spoke.

“Well?” Hresh said. “What have you two been up to?”

Nialli Apuilana turned away, sputtering smothered laughter into her shoulder. But Kundalimon stared levelly at him, smiling in that strange off-center way of his.

The boy no longer seemed like a wild creature. He had gained weight, and he looked far less unworldly, far less the eerie visitor from some unknown planet, more like any other young man of the city. There was new strength and assurance in him.

After a moment Nialli Apuilana said, “This isn’t easy, father. I don’t know where to begin.”

“All right. Let me guess. I won’t need the Barak Dayir for this. You and Kundalimon are lovers, eh?”

“Yes.” Barely a whisper.

He felt no surprise at all. There had been something inevitable about it from the first, that these two should have come together.

She said, “And twining-partners too, father.”

That too? He hadn’t expected that, the deeper bond also. But he took it calmly enough. No wonder they were glowing!

“Twining-partners. Ah. Very good. Twining goes so far beyond coupling, you know. Surely you know that by now. Twining is the real communion.”

“So we’ve found out, yes,” Nialli Apuilana said. She moistened her lips. “Father—”

“Go on. Tell me the rest of it.”

“Don’t you know it already?”