And I suppose I should add, Voice Kinlafia, that I have a very lively respect for his judgment."

"Your Majesty, I don't—"

Kinlafia broke off. The truth was, that he didn't have a clue what to say, and Zindel chuckled.

"I apologize, Voice Kinlafia. I'm sure this is all rather overwhelming after months out on the frontier.

Tajvana traffic all by itself is probably enough to leave you longing to run for cover. And as if that weren't enough, here you are, dragged into the Palace for a face-to-face interview with that bogeyman, the Emperor."

There was so much genuine warmth and amusement in Zindel's expression that Kinlafia found himself chuckling as he nodded.

"I would never call you a bogeyman, Your Majesty," he said ruefully. "A little scary, now ... that I might go for."

"I don't suppose I can blame you for that. On the other hand, at the moment what I most am is a father who hasn't seen his son in months. And you, Voice Kinlafia, are the man he picked to send his letters home with. That would be enough to make you welcome without any other recommendation from him.

But you're also the Voice who relayed Voice Nargra-Kolmayr's last message to us, and from what Janaki's had to say in his letter about you, you're the sort of representative we're going to need in our new parliament, too. That's quite a combination of recommendations."

"Your Majesty, that was Prince Janaki's idea. Running for Parliament, I mean. It hadn't even crossed my mind until he raised the possibility."

"Which isn't a bad recommendation for office all by itself." Zindel's smile turned far less humorous.

"Most people who start out wanting power for its own sake shouldn't be trusted with it in the first place.

Which, I suppose, must sound a bit strange—if not hypocritical—coming from someone in my position."

Kinlafia made no response to that last statement, and the amusement returned to the Emperor's smile.

"I see Janaki was correct about your natural ... diplomacy, Voice Kinlafia," he observed. "Don't worry.

I won't put your native tact to any more tests. For now, at least."

Zindel chan Calirath watched the tanned, brown-haired Voice with careful attentiveness ... and with more than just his eyes. He knew the fanciful rumors—legends, really—about the mysterious Talents which were somehow reserved as the exclusive property of the House of Calirath. Of course he did; everyone knew about those ridiculous tall tales. But what Zindel knew that most people didn't was that there was a solid core of truth behind them.

The Calirath bloodline extended far beyond the immediate imperial family. It could be no other way, after so many millennia, and the longstanding policy of the emperors of Ternathia to not simply permit but actively encourage periodic marriage outside the ranks of the aristocracy had only pushed that extension harder and farther. And yet there were the Talents which had been persistently associated with the imperial house for literally thousands of years but which scarcely ever manifested outside the immediate imperial family. And in addition to the Talents which everyone knew about, there were others, most of which were spoken of only in whispers, about which very few, indeed, knew a thing.

Zindel chan Calirath had always cherished his own doubts about the mythic, almost demigod stature of Erthain the Great as the sun source of all Talents. Yet he knew of no other explanation for the knowledge conserved within the Calirath archives. Ternathia had given the Talents to the entire human race ... but the imperial dynasty had not shared all it knew. Only the Caliraths, their most trusted Healers, and the high priests of the Triad knew how to activate the potential to Glimpse the future, for example. And only the Caliraths and those same trusted Healers knew how to awaken the other Talents bound up with the Winged Crown.

There'd been times Zindel felt more than a little uncomfortable with the notion that such knowledge had been kept secret for so long. The fact that no one was ever informed of it without first voluntarily agreeing to have that information placed forever under seal by a Mind Healer had also bothered him upon occasion. Yet, in the end, he'd always come back to the inescapable fact that the knowledge which reserved those Talents as the Crown's monoploy constituted one of the Empire's most important state secrets—one which had literally saved the Empire on at least two occasions. That was the sort of advantage no ruler could justify casting away.

The imperial family and its spokesmen had always been careful to smile at the "absurd notion" that such

"secret Talents" existed. But they'd always been careful never to expressly deny their existence, either, which meant most people had come to the conclusion that there was some substance to the rumors, but not a lot. Still, the ability of the Ternathian Emperor to judge the fidelity of ambassadors and councilors, to recognize those driven by personal ambition, to pick out those who might betray his trust, was legendary, and as Zindel gazed at Darcel Kinlafia, he knew Janaki's judgment had not been in error.

Of course, Janaki didn't tell him everything, the Emperor thought. And I'm not going to tell him, either.

Not yet, at least. I don't have any clearer Glimpse of why it's so important to Andrin to have this man in Tajvana than Janaki does. But Janaki's right about that, too.

"I'm afraid my schedule for the day is on the full side, Voice Kinlafia. It always is, actually. However, I've read Janaki's letter, and my initial impression of you strongly suggests that he's right about both your character and your electability. And the importance of the service you could render not simply to this new world government we're seeking to establish but to Sharona as a whole. I also realize that having the Crown Prince of Ternathia—and the Emperor, as well—suggest that to you has to be overwhelming."

""thinspace"'Overwhelming' is a grossly inadequate choice of words, Your Majesty," Kinlafia said with a grimace, and Zindel chuckled appreciatively. The fact that Kinlafia was able to make even that mild a joke in his very first private audience said truly amazing things about the Voice's resilience. Things, Zindel suspected, which Kinlafia himself had never even suspected.

"I hope we can get past that," the Emperor said now. "I'll be honest with you. For all of the power and indisputable prestige which clings to the Winged Crown and the Calirath Dynasty, we can never have too many allies in the political process. I hope you'll become one of those allies. Not out of any sort of blind loyalty to my House—the fact that you aren't Ternathian yourself will probably help there—but because we both have the best interests of Sharona at heart and recognize the need for those who share that commitment to work together."

"Your Majesty," Kinlafia said slowly, "I appreciate what you've just said. And I appreciate everything the Prince said when he urged me to seek office. More than that, I hope we will find ourselves in agreement if I should manage to win election to Parliament. But if I do win election, my decisions as a member of Parliament will have to be my decisions. I hope you realize I mean absolutely no disrespect when I say this, but if I should find myself in disagreement with you, I would have no choice but to say so openly."

"An ally who isn't willing to tell you when he thinks you're wrong isn't an ally worth having, Voice Kinlafia," Zindel said, and it was hard to conceal his satisfaction. It took a huge amount of intestinal fortitude—not to mention a spring-steel spine—to stand up to the Emperor of Ternathia in a face-to-face audience. People who could do that were far too valuable to let slip away.

"I'm glad you think so, Your Majesty." Kinlafia's tone and expression were still somewhat guarded, and Zindel shrugged.

"I'm sure if you do disagree with me, and if I think you're wrong to disagree, we'll have the occasional ... energetic debate, let's say. I've been told by my physicians and Healers that occasional bouts of elevated pulse rate and respiration are good for my circulatory system, though, so I don't think it will be a problem. Not," Zindel smiled charmingly, "from my perspective, at any rate."

"I hope you won't take this wrongly, Your Majesty," the Voice said wryly, "but you're really quite a bit like your son. Or possibly the other way around, I suppose."

"I've been told—especially by his mother—that it runs in the family." Zindel chuckled, and Kinlafia smiled. Then the Emperor allowed his expression to turn more sober.

"Seriously, Voice Kinlafia, I believe Janaki was correct about the political asset you represent. And I also share his judgment that it would be in the best interests of Sharona and of the House of Calirath for me to assist you in launching your political career. Mind you, it could be fatal for me to give you too much assistance. I have no intention of offering you any sort of quid pro quo, any sort of 'understanding'

or obligation to become 'my man' in Parliament. First, because I don't believe you would accept my aid if I attached that sort of string to it. Second, because people who allow themselves to be bought by promises of power from one man are generally susceptible to being bought by bigger promises from someone else later on. And third, because people who share your beliefs and support your policies because they think they're the correct policies are far more effective as allies than people whose uncritical allegiance, as everyone knows, has been effectively bought and paid for.

"If, however, I campaign too energetically for your election, there would be those who simply refused to believe I wasn't buying your eventual support. I trust you understand that?"

"Of course I do, Your Majesty."

"Good. Having said all of that, though, I think we can contrive to get you off to a rousing start. And in the process, you can probably give the public's morale a fairly substantial poke."

"Your Majesty?"

"As I'm sure you're aware, the next week is going to be exhaustingly full of festivities to celebrate the formal ratification of the Act of Unification, culminating with the Coronation Ball and Coronation the week after that. In fact, you've gotten home in the nick of time. The actual signing ceremony is scheduled for this evening, in the Great Throne Room. It's going to be one of those unbearably formal affairs, with full regalia and the kind of shoes that have you limping inside five minutes. Fortunately, given how recently you've arrived and the fact that no one could possibly expect you to have proper formal attire, you can probably dodge that particular bullet."