"Do you think so?" asked Dondak-Sajamir.

The question left Valentine baffled. Was it the idea of a threat to the realm that he was challenging, or merely the notion that he bore equal responsibility for blocking Valentine?

Valentine said, after a moment, "What do you suggest I do?"

"Return to your home," said the major-domo, "and live a fruitful and happy life, and leave the problems of government to those of us whose fate it is to wrestle with them."

HE HAD NO BETTER satisfaction from Gitamorn Suul. The other major-domo was less supercilious than the Su-Suheris, but hardly more cooperative.

She was a woman ten or twelve years older than Valentine, tall and dark-haired, with a businesslike, competent air about her. She did not appear at all insane. On her desk, in an office notably more cheerful and attractive, though no larger, than Dondak-Sajamir’s, was a file containing Valentine’s application. She tapped it several times and said, "You can’t see them, you know."

"May I ask why not?"

"Because no one sees them."

"No one?"

"No one from outside. It is no longer done."

"Is that because of the friction between you and Dondak-Sajamir?"

Gitamorn Suul’s lips quirked testily. "That idiot! But no — even if he were performing his duties properly, it still wouldn’t be possible for you to reach the ministers. They don’t want to be bothered. They have heavy responsibilities. The Pontifex is old, you know. He gives little time to matters of government, and therefore the burdens on those about him have increased. Do you understand?"

"I must see them," said Valentine.

"I can’t help that. Not even for the most urgent reason can they be disturbed."

"Suppose," Valentine said slowly, "the Coronal had been overthrown, and a false ruler held possession of the Castle?"

She pushed up her mask and looked at him in astonishment. "Is that what you want to tell them? Here. Application dismissed." Rising, she made brisk shooing gestures at him. "We have madmen enough in the Labyrinth already, without new ones coming down out of—"

"Wait," said Valentine.

He let the trance-state possess him, and summoned the power of the circlet. Desperately he reached toward her soul with his, touched it, enfolded it. It had not been part of his plan to reveal much to these minor officials, but there seemed no alternative but to take her into his confidence. He sustained the contact until he felt himself growing dizzy and weak; then he broke it off and returned hurriedly to full wakefulness. She was staring at him, dazed; her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were wild, her breasts heaved in agitation. It was a moment before she could speak.

Finally she said, "What kind of trick is that?"

"No trick. I am the Lady’s son, and she herself taught me the art of sendings."

"Lord Valentine is a dark-haired man."

"So he was. Not any longer."

"You ask me to believe—"

"Please," he said. He threw all the intensity of his spirit into the word. "Please. Believe me. Everything depends on my telling the Pontifex what has happened."

But her suspicions ran deep. From Gitamorn Suul came no kneelings, no homages, no starburst gesticulations, only a kind of sullen bewilderment, as if she might be inclined to think his bizarre story was true, but wished he had inflicted it on some other functionary.

She said, "The Su-Suheris would veto anything I proposed."

"Even if I showed him what I’ve shown you?"

She shrugged. "His obstinacy is legendary. Not even to save the life of the Pontifex would he approve one of my recommendations.’’

"But this is madness!"

"Exactly so. You’ve talked to him?"

"Yes," Valentine said. "He seemed unfriendly and puffed up with pride. But not mad."

"Deal with him a little longer," Gitamorn Suul advised, "before you form your final judgment of him."

"What if we were to forge his approval, so that I could go in without his knowing?"

She looked shocked. "You want me to commit a crime?" Valentine struggled to maintain his even temper. "A crime has already been committed, and not a trifling one," he said in a low, steady voice. "I am Coronal of Majipoor, deposed through treachery. Your help is vital to my restoration. Doesn’t that override all these petty regulations? Can’t you see that I have the power to pardon you for breaking those regulations?" He leaned toward her. "Time is wasting. Castle Mount houses a usurper. I run back and forth between subordinates of the Pontifex, when I should be leading an army of liberation across Alhanroel. Give me your approval, and let me be on my way, and there’ll be rewards for you when everything’s again as it should be on Majipoor."

Her eyes were cold and suddenly bleak. "Your story makes great demands on my powers of belief. What if it is all false? What if you are in the pay of Dondak-Sajamir?"

Valentine groaned. "I beg you—"

"No. It’s entirely likely. This is a trap, perhaps. You, your fantastic story, some sort of hypnosis, all designed to destroy me, to leave the Su-Suheris unchallenged here, to give him the supreme power he has so long desired—"

"I swear by the Lady my mother I have not lied to you."

"A true criminal would swear by anybody’s mother, but what is that?"

Valentine hesitated, then boldly reached forth and took Gitamorn Suul’s hands in his. Intently he stared into her eyes. What he was about to do was disagreeable to him, but so was all that these petty bureaucrats had been doing to him. The time had come for a little shamelessness, or he would be forever entangled down here.

He said, peering close, "Even if I were in Dondak-Sajamir’s pay, I could never betray a woman as beautiful as you."

She looked scornful. But color flared again in her cheeks.

He went on, "Trust me. Believe in me. I am Lord Valentine, and you will be one of the heroes of my return. I know the thing you want most in the world, and it will be yours when I have regained the Castle."

"You know it?"

"Yes," he whispered, gently stroking the hands that now lay limply in his. "To have sole authority over the inner Labyrinth, is that not it? To be the only major-domo?"

She nodded as though in a dream.

"It will be done," he said. "Ally yourself with me, and Dondak-Sajamir will be stripped of his rank, for making himself an obstacle to me. Will you do that? Will you help me reach the chief ministers, Gitamorn Suul?"

"It will be — difficult—"

"But it can be done! Anything can be done! And when I am Coronal again, the Su-Suheris loses his post! I promise you that."

"Swear it!"

"I swear it," Valentine said passionately, feeling foul and depraved. "I swear it on my mother’s name. I swear it by all that’s holy. Is it agreed?"

"Agreed," she said in a small faltering voice. "But how is it to be done? You need both signatures on the pass, and if mine is on it, he’ll refuse to add his."

Valentine said, "Write me out a pass and sign it. I’ll go back to him and talk him into countersigning it."

"He will never do it."

"Let me work on him. I can be persuasive. Once I have his signature, I can enter the inner Labyrinth and achieve what I must achieve. When I emerge, it will be with the full authority of the Coronal — and I will have Dondak-Sajamir removed from office, that I promise you."

"But how will you get his signature? He’s refused all countersignatures for months!"

"Leave that to me," said Valentine.

She drew from her desk a dark green cube of some sleek glistening material and placed it briefly in a machine that cast an incandescent yellow glow over it. When she removed it, the surface of the cube was infused with a new brightness. "Here. This is your pass. But I warn you that without his countersignature it is worthless."