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CHAPTER ELEVEN

When they left the next morning, Grunwold took Slicewind’s helm long enough to pilot them out of sight of the KonSef estate. Then he turned the wheel over to Peg, went down to his cabin, and collapsed into his bunk without bothering to undress. He even snored through Xerak pulling off his boots.

“Grunwold didn’t sleep at all last night,” Xerak reported when he came up on deck. “After the meeting with Sefit, he went and sat with his father. Some of his cousins came up, and they had a sort of muted family reunion.”

“I don’t think Grunwold slept much on the way here from the Library either,” Teg said. “Every time I came on deck for a smoke, he’d be up here, either at the wheel or polishing something.”

“He had a lot to worry about,” Xerak said. “It wasn’t exactly fun, but talking with his dad went better than I’d hoped. Now that we have the full story, things should go a lot easier from here on out.”

“Did Konnel tell the rest of his household about his past?” Peg asked. “Those cousins you mentioned?”

“Not yet,” Xerak said. “He promised Grunwold and Sefit-toh that he would tell those who might be shocked if the news came out, but he wants to get treated first.”

“Reasonable,” Peg admitted. “My kids always knew I had been a bit wild when I was younger, so learning the details wasn’t too much of a shock, but the only Konnel his family and retainers knows is the hard-working, prosperous landholder. Learning he’d earned his seed money as a more-or-less glorified thief would be a lot to dump on them right before leaving on a trip.”


When they arrived at Rivers Meet, Vereez piloted them to a different docking facility, one her parents apparently didn’t own, since she had to pay for the berth.

“I’m not as confident as Xerak that things will go smoothly. This way, if my parents decide to be difficult, we can retreat to the ship. I’m also going to stock up our supplies before they have a chance to cut my line of credit.”

“Why are you so worried, Vereez?” Xerak asked. “Because your folks are so very hung up on being respectable?”

Vereez only shook her head, and refused to say more but Teg, recalling parents who shipped their pregnant daughter off to go through her pregnancy in isolation, only to never see the baby, thought Vereez had reason to worry about how her parents might react. Teg had also been thinking how young Ohent, as seen in the Font, had looked vaguely familiar to Vereez. Could Kaj be Ohent’s son? If Ohent had come asking for money, maybe an advance on her trust fund, that would explain the uneasy dynamic Vereez had sensed, even through her obsession with the handsome visitor.

Because, Ohent could put a lot of pressure on Zarrq and Inehem. She alone of all of their little band of thieves doesn’t have a social position she’d worry about losing.

Impatient as she had been to get to confront her parents, Vereez kept her vow to stock Slicewind with both necessities and luxuries. Then, like a general marshalling her armies for review, she inspected all of their attire, tweaking sashes into place, straightening collars, insisting that Xerak clean and shine his already pristine spear staff.

Then she led them down to where a fancy, semi-open carriage was waiting for them. It was of the sort that seated them facing each other, three on a side. The carriage was drawn by four creatures something like frilled lizards, although longer legged and much friskier. Their scales were a glorious sunset orange.

“The House of Fortune,” Vereez said to the driver, who possessed the head of what Teg thought was a tapir, although she wasn’t completely certain. “The residence. Take the riverside promenade, please.”

“That’s the longer route, Customer-kir,” he said, not able to resist a twitch of his mobile nose in what was probably greed.

“So I am aware,” Vereez said haughtily. “Drive on.”

The driver snapped a long whip in the air over the draft lizards’ backs and they moved out, their steps matched and their gait so sinuous that the carriage glided along the street.

Aware that the driver would definitely be eavesdropping, everyone was silent during the journey. For the humans, this was no particular burden, and Teg, at least, was glad her mask would conceal her reaction to so many new and exciting sights. During their last visit, they had gotten a brief look at Rivers Meet, but that had focused on shopping districts and public forums. Now they were seeing a larger view of the culture: houses as well as businesses, parks where sports teams played. Once they drove past a school or daycare, where children as adorable as those in a Disney cartoon frolicked on a playground not too unlike those Teg had played on herself.

The three inquisitors watched the passing scene less intently, although Grunwold had recovered enough from the stresses of the last several days to nudge Xerak when a particularly sensuous girl with the head of an ermine strutted by, clinging to the arm of a buff youth with the head of a falcon. Xerak looked unimpressed. Teg wondered if their young wizard was finally beginning to worry about his own eventual confrontation with his parents, or at least with his mother.

Intellectually, Teg had known that Vereez’s family was rich but, when the carriage turned off the riverside promenade, taking what she thought was another street, and she realized that this was actually a private driveway, and the massive mansion in front of her was Vereez’s home, she reassessed her estimate up by several grades.

I’d been thinking multimillionaires, as in maybe tens of millions and most of that tied up in investments. This is hundreds of millions, with money to squander.

Suddenly Teg was afraid in a way she hadn’t been even when they’d been attacked by spike wolves and piranha toads. That—even when she’d been knocked off the ledge—hadn’t seemed quite real. This, though, she understood: the power of wealth and what it could buy.

Surreptitiously, she touched the bracelet on her wrist, reminding herself that she didn’t need to get to some Lantern Waste or ride the Hogwarts Express in order to escape.

I’m like Dorothy with the ruby slippers, and if it gets to be too much, well, there’s no place like home.

“Cozy little place,” Peg said. For once, she had not pulled out her knitting, although Teg was willing to bet that she had some yarn or string hidden in one of the formal robe’s voluminous folds.

Vereez laughed and waved to one of the gardeners, who bowed and waved back. “Actually, when I was growing up, it was cozy in a strange way. My parents have offices here. Unlike many of my friends who saw their parents only for a few hours in the evening, if then, I ate breakfast or lunch with one of them most days. Dinners they often used for business entertainments, but if they could, they included me.”

Grunwold nodded. “I remember when we’d visit you. It was tremendous fun running up and down the hallways, climbing in the dumbwaiters, sneaking down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen to get treats.”

Xerak said dreamily, “I remember the libraries . . .  So organized and yet so full of surprises. And those deep window seats, just perfect to curl up in and read away a rainy afternoon.”

The carriage had drawn to a halt and the driver, obviously having realized that Vereez wasn’t a mere visitor, was infinitely more respectful as he helped them out, accepting his payment as if Vereez was doing him a favor.

Maybe she is. Maybe her parents own the taxi service and she doesn’t need to pay if she doesn’t want.

Vereez had directed the carriage to leave them not at the main door, but at a side entrance.

“For the family,” Vereez explained. “The other is for business and big parties.”

“Nice to be family,” Peg said, adjusting her mask.

Family door or not, Vereez didn’t need to pull out her key and let herself in. The carriage had hardly begun to pull away when the door was opened by a tall, lean man with some sort of rodent’s head—a ferret, maybe. Teg wasn’t sure. Based on the numerous samples of daily wear she’d seen during their drive, she was fairly certain that his attire was some sort of livery.

“Vereez-kir,” he said, making an efficient bow and motioning for a couple of young men to gather up the various bits of baggage, “welcome home. Your apartments are, of course, ready for you, but may I know how many guests we are to have?”

“Five,” she said, motioning for them to enter. “Is the Hetnet Suite available? If so, I would like it for these three ladies.”

“It is,” the butler said. “If you don’t mind waiting a short while, I will make sure the linens are fresh.”

“That would be fine. They can come to my suite while we wait.”

“Yes, Vereez-kir. I recognize Grunwold-lial and Xerafu Akeru-va. We can accommodate them in the Sword Suite, or in private rooms, if they would prefer.”

“Hi, Leyenui,” Grunwold said, dipping his head in greeting. “I don’t mind sharing a suite with Xerak. And I remember loving the Sword Suite, even if we did get in trouble for trying to take down that set of ornamental swords.”

He laughed. Leyenui didn’t have the highly mobile ears that Teg had come to rely on as emotion indicators, but something about how completely immobile he kept his whiskers and ears made her think that the butler did not have as pleasant memories of that particular escapade.

“Very good. Those rooms are ready for immediate use. Your parents had visitors who left only yesterday.”

“Are my parents at home?” Vereez did a very good job of hiding any anxiety she felt.

“Unhappily, they are out, lunching with clients. However, they are expected back shortly. Would you like me to let them know you are here?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Throughout, Vereez was very much the lady of the house, not rude or distant, but very clearly someone who could request whatever she wanted and expect it to be done. The difference between her current demeanor and the raffish character who took her turns at Slicewind’s wheel, or argued with Grunwold or Xerak, gave Teg a great deal of insight into the girl who had fallen for Kaj.

She was used to having what she wanted. I wonder if, on some level, that made her believe that wanting was, in and of itself, sufficient excuse for doing whatever she felt like. I’ve grown very fond of our three young inquisitors but, on some level, they’re all just a little spoiled—or maybe “spoiled” isn’t the right word. Privileged?

After, Leyenui gave orders as to the disposition of the luggage, then went off—not hurrying, but very efficiently—to spread the alert that the “young mistress” had returned unexpectedly, bringing five guests. Vereez did not take them immediately to her suite.

“He said it is ready,” she said softly, her voice holding an amused chuckle, “and I am certain it is. However, I know that either he or the housekeeper will want to make certain. I’ll take you for a turn in the garden to give them time.”

She began with a path around an ornamental pond. “Those,” she said, pointing to some insects rather like a cross between butterflies and dragonflies that flitted over the pond, “are hetnet. The suite you’re staying in is decorated with them as a motif, so if you don’t like them, let me know and I’ll shift your room.”

“They’re beautiful,” Meg said. “Their wings are shaped more like those of a dragonfly, but with the intricate patterns of a butterfly. That one on the pink flower reminds me of a monarch, but in ice blues and white.”

Peg bent to look closely at another. “My grandson Salvador has been collecting butterflies. I remember we always have to be careful not to brush the powder from the wings.”

Vereez laughed, sounding truly delighted. “The same is true with these!”

“Then let’s call them ‘powderwings,’” Peg said, “to remind us to be careful.”

As they walked along the carefully kept paths between flowering shrubs and knotwork herbal plantings, the three inquisitors reminisced about the games they’d played in a childhood that was, really, not so long ago. Many of these games had taken place down along the riverfront, where there was not only a boathouse, but an elaborate treehouse.

When they were far enough that they could look back at the mansion, Vereez pointed. “See there, where the large balcony is? That’s the Powderwing Suite. It has three separate bedrooms, but only a single bathroom. You won’t mind sharing?”

“Have we before now?” Peg asked. “I don’t recall our having trouble aboard Slicewind.”

“Good. I wanted you to have a suite where you could go without your masks. The balcony is deep enough that it’s hard for anyone to see into the rooms, unless you stand right up to the windows.”

“Considerate of you,” Meg said. “These masks are comfortable enough, but after a while, peering through eyeholes does become trying.”

“The servants always knock,” Vereez continued, “but I am going to tell Leyenui that you are to be left to wait upon yourselves. If you keep the door locked, you should be fine. It’s not that I haven’t come to appreciate your appearance, even find it lovely, but the smaller stir we create . . . ”

“I agree,” Meg said, as the other two nodded. At Grunwold’s family estate, they’d stayed in the office tower, so that their strange appearance wouldn’t need to be explained. Concealment was becoming standard operating procedure.

No heroic entry as the long-awaited “daughters of Eve” here, Teg thought ruefully. Definitely not Narnia.

Not long after they had walked back to the mansion and had a chance to freshen up, Vereez’s parents returned. Inehem and Zarrq were recognizable as more mature versions of the people from the vision in the Font of Sight. Zarrq was, if anything, more powerfully built than he had been in the days when he effortlessly carried his wife through various perils. Inehem’s figure was more voluptuous, her fur slightly more silvery than it had been.

I wonder if her coat has lightened with the years or if she uses cosmetics.

Inehem and Zarrq embraced their daughter, greeted Grunwold and Xerak as family friends, and looked at the three masked visitors with apparent curiosity.

Vereez had decided to take advantage of their undoubted interest regarding what she had learned at Hettua Shrine to get right to the point.

“These are Meg, Peg, and Teg,” Vereez said. “They’re part of our story.”

She launched into the tale, beginning with how Grunwold had joined herself and Xerak, then moving on to what had happened at Hettua Shrine. When she reached the point where they had taken advantage of Hawtoor’s napping to begin the summons on their own, Inehem and Zarrq exchanged quick glances. Teg wondered what they were thinking.

Is it “She’s so like we were?” or “How could she? Didn’t we raise her better?” I’ve known quite a few people who enjoyed being wild in their youths, but who believe that their own children should behave quite differently.

As had Grunwold, Vereez saved having the three humans unmask for the appropriate part of their story. Konnel had been fascinated, but Teg had the sense that Vereez’s parents were uneasy. Vereez apparently caught this, too, stumbling over a few sentences before resuming the easy flow of her narrative.

When she reached the part about going to the Library of the Sapphire Wind, there was no doubt that Inehem and Zarrq were not pleased. Whereas Konnel had been relieved to have his secret out at last, there was no doubt that they were unhappy—and worse, that they were angry.

Uh, oh, Teg thought. I don’t think they’re going to help us. I hope that “not helping” is all they intend to do.

Although clearly uneasy, Vereez had the poise to continue her tale as if she wasn’t aware of her parents building fury. She concluded by producing a copy of the letter Konnel had signed. “He says you should know where to find Ohent and, through her, the piece of the artifact you—well, Fardowsi-toh—took away when you all left the Library. Konnel-toh agrees that we should return it to the Library.”

Zarrq held out an elegantly manicured hand. Like the polar bear whose head he possessed, his skin was black—not the dark brown that is usually called “black” in humans, but a jettier hue.

“If I might see that?” He took the letter, read it, nodded, and handed it to his wife.

Then Inehem made a few quick gestures. The signature glowed a pale green. “Authentic.”

Inehem returned the letter to Vereez. “So, why should we assist you in this?”

Vereez looked startled. “Because the shrine sent us to the Library of the Sapphire Wind, and the Library’s genius loci gave us this task. We need the artifact if we are to get the answers we desire.”

“There is another part missing,” Inehem commented coolly. “You could search for that first. My understanding is that with two parts this Sapphire Wind could pinpoint the third. Perhaps you should assert yourselves more, rather than expecting us to make things easy for you.”

Vereez replied with matching chill. “We have asserted ourselves. Winning that first part was far from easy. We’re not asking for you to do anything but give us an address. We’ll go to Ohent and ask her to give us the piece. It would help if you would give us her location and a letter similar to the one Konnel gave us, that’s all. I’d think you’d be eager to assist us.”

“Why? Just because Konnel is consumed with guilt, should we feel the same? Perhaps he wouldn’t have felt that way if he wasn’t ill—and ill by his own careless action.”

“What?” Grunwold didn’t so much speak as the word exploded from him.

“Didn’t Konnel tell you that part? How he came to catch the illness that is killing him?”

“He didn’t. I didn’t ask. It didn’t seem important,” Grunwold managed.

“But it is. Did he lead you to believe that after the debacle at the Library we retired from our work as extraction agents?”

“No.”

“Well, at least Konnel was honest about that. We continued to take on extractions for some time. However, the team was not what it had been. Ohent and Konnel, in particular, had lost their nerve. We were on a delicate job for an alchemist who had hired us to retrieve some materials from a facility that had been badly damaged in a failed experiment. I’ve often wondered if Konnel was unsettled by some similarities in the setting to the Library after that job went wrong. For whatever reason, he was careless.”

Intent silence invited Inehem to continue. She did in the dreamy tones of a “once upon a time.”

“We’d been given a list of things our client wanted, with the understanding that anything else we took was a bonus. An attractive jade jar caught Konnel’s eye.” Inehem shaped something about the size of a soda can in the air with her hands, then went on. “He grabbed it without making certain that the seal was intact. It wasn’t. He managed to dodge most of the contents when they spilled out, but some splashed on one of his upper pants legs. He didn’t worry much at the time, but later he realized that some had soaked through to his skin. That location was where the first numb patches occurred.

“I helped him with research after, and there was some indication that more than an infection was involved. There might well have been a curse. And curses, as you know, have a nasty tendency to pass on through family lines. Nonetheless, Konnel went ahead and married, then started a family. Really, I have no problem understanding why he feels guilty and desires to expiate that guilt.”

Zarrq added in his deep, rumbly voice. “We, however, feel no such guilt.”

“Not even that all those people might have been killed?” Xerak asked in astonishment.

“No,” Zarrq said. “They chose to create a hazardous environment, as well as maintaining an attractive nuisance. If we could get through their security, then what happened is as much their fault as ours.”

Peg stirred restlessly but, where the hippie chick might have argued, the older woman understood that these people were very different from Sefit and Konnel.

Vereez asked, clearly choosing each word carefully, “So you will not give us Ohent’s location?”

Zarrq and Inehem exchanged glances, then Inehem said, “I think not.”

“Will you give us a letter to show her if we locate her on our own?”

“We will not,” Zarrq said.

“What,” Vereez said, “if we decide to leak what we have learned about your past ventures? I’m certain that your business associates would hesitate to work with proven thieves.”

“Proven? How would you prove it?”

“I could give the same account I’ve given, then bring Nefnet-va forward to confirm it.”

“And if we denied?” Zarrq asked. “It has been over two decades. Even if you had spells done to confirm this Nefnet’s identity, we could balance with rumors that those were faked.”

“And dear child,” said Inehem with fake sweetness. “Have you thought that any rumors you spread would hurt Konnel and Fardowsi far more than they would us? Financiers have a certain reputation for ruthlessness. I suppose the risk of exposure doesn’t matter much to Konnel. He has a semi-independent kingdom there, but Fardowsi’s business would suffer. People would always wonder just how she acquired her ‘antiquities.’”

Zarrq laughed. “In a few words, she’d go from being a respected antiquarian to a former thief and probable fence.”

Something in his inflection made Teg wonder just how law-abiding Xerak’s mother really was. From the expressions on her associates’ faces, she wasn’t the only one wondering.

“In fact, Vereez, dear,” Inehem said, “your father and I really think you should give up on this search of yours. We hoped that going to the shrine would be enough, and get this out of your system. However, since Sapphire Wind has chosen to manipulate what should be a neutral element to its purposes, we must protest. You will stop here.”

“But my . . .  sister!”

“You have no sister,” Zarrq said firmly. His tone made clear that if she persisted, he would say precisely for whom she searched. Something predatory in how he held his sleek, white-furred head added, Do you really want your friends to know about your shameful behavior?

Vereez’s ears, to that point sharp-pointed and aggressive, melted into puppyish dismay.

“I . . . ”

“Your friends are welcome to spend the night,” Inehem said, her tones honey-sweet with victory. “And then tomorrow you will bid them farewell and wish them luck in finding Xerak’s master. We will discuss your future when we’re just family at home together.”

Grunwold and Xerak had been listening with barely disguised astonishment. Now Xerak spoke soothingly.

“Vereez, maybe you should listen to your parents. Maybe they do have your best interests at heart. Remember how they warned us not to play in the boathouse when the river was flooding? Sometimes parents do know what’s best.”

He then turned to Inehem and Zarrq. “Give us a chance to talk to Vereez. I’m sure we can help her to understand why you think continuing is unwise. As for me, since we’ve had a change in plans, if you don’t mind, I’ll go and visit my parents later this evening. I fear my mother may share your views, but I should at least ask her for a letter. If we can’t get any help from her, then maybe we need to go back to the Library and consult with Sapphire Wind as to other leads.”

“Of course, Xerafu Akeru-va,” Inehem said. “We know how important your search for Uten Kekui is to you. I am sorry that we cannot help, but Vereez’s delusion cannot be further encouraged.”

“May I go to my suite now?” Vereez asked, her voice shaking and her eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Yes. In fact, I think,” Zarrq said, “and I am sure your mother agrees, that it would be best if you remained there until you have calmed down. Your friends can visit with you there.”

In your detention cell, Teg filled in.

“Fine!” Vereez’s ears pricked again for a defiant moment. “I hadn’t ever realized how ruthless you both are. Thank you for this lesson. I won’t forget it.”

With that, her ears collapsed, she leapt to her feet, and she stormed from the room. Grunwold and Xerak waited until the humans had put their masks back on. Then, without a word to their hosts, they also left, Peg hurrying after, doubtless to keep them from doing anything foolish.

Meg paused in the doorway. “Thank you for your hospitality. I have children of my own—older than Vereez, true—but I remember how difficult they can be at her age.”

Teg nodded, figuring that Inehem and Zarrq could interpret the gesture as they wished.

“Let’s go see Vereez,” Xerak said once they were all in the hallway. “I can wait to visit my parents until she’s been calmed down.”

Vereez had left her door ajar. When they let themselves in, she was half-collapsed in one of the cushioned chairs that furnished the suite’s “living room.” Raising her head from her hands, she waited until Teg had closed the door and the humans had unmasked.

“They’re serious,” she said. “I can’t believe they care so little about exposure but, for whatever reason, they’re willing to risk it to keep me here.”

“Perhaps,” Meg said, taking a seat on the chair opposite Vereez, “they are more concerned about what will happen if Sapphire Wind ‘unarchives’ the remainder of the Library’s population. We saw Nefnet’s reaction. Do you believe for a moment that among the hundreds of people who have lost over two decades of their lives, that none will want revenge?”

Peg moved to the chair next to Meg’s and took out her knitting. Teg perched on the arm of Meg’s chair, while Grunwold paced restlessly around the room. Xerak settled for working out his frustrations by alternately thumping the butt of his staff and dragging it through the carpet’s thick pile.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Vereez admitted, “but right now I can’t say that I blame them. By ‘them’ I mean the Library’s people, not my parents.”

“Don’t be so hard on your parents,” Peg advised. “Frightened people do stupid things, and although they seem very cool and sophisticated now, I’m not sure your mother is all that far from the panicked young wizard who threw that lightning globe. They may ease up if you give them time.”

“I don’t . . . ” Vereez was beginning, when Xerak interrupted with a violent gesture of his spear staff.

“Okay. I’ve put up a quick ward against eavesdropping. If Inehem is trying to spy, she’s going to get a variation on Peg counseling patience, but I can only maintain the illusion for a few minutes at most. “Vereez, do you want out of here or are you giving up for now?”

“Out.”

“Fine. Can you guys get her out of here and to the river? I can have a boat waiting. From there she and I can sail to meet you at wherever you care to take Slicewind.”

Grunwold looked worried. “Out of here? The House of Fortune has passive security like a bank’s. It won’t be set to keep us in, but you can bet Vereez won’t be able to take a step out of this suite without setting off all sorts of alarms.”

Peg was grinning. “I have a plan. It won’t even involve getting Vereez to the river.” Peg looked at Vereez. “Do you think your parents will care if most of us leave early for Slicewind?”

“No, I don’t. I suspect they’d be glad to have you gone.” She looked sulky. “They’ll probably figure I’ll be easier to manipulate if most of my friends have dumped me.”

“Excellent!”

Xerak signaled that his protection against eavesdropping would be going down any moment.

Peg rose from her chair and went to sit next to Vereez. “Now, dear, let me show you how to knit. There’s nothing like knitting to calm the nerves.”


Peg’s plan, explained in notes and doodles she scribbled while ostensibly teaching Vereez to knit, was just insane enough that it might work.

Implementing the plan began that evening, after dinner, when Grunwold and Vereez got into a ferocious “argument,” with Vereez advocating telling everyone in the world about what “flea-bitten shiftless thieves” their parents had been, and Grunwold shouting that his father was dying and he wasn’t going to have him remembered for the few things he’d done wrong, rather than for everything he’d done right.

The pair were passionate enough that Teg felt certain that anyone snooping—magically or otherwise—would be convinced. The exchange ended with Grunwold insisting he wouldn’t sleep under the same roof as Vereez. Meg and Peg had gone with him back to Slicewind, while Teg remained behind to comfort Vereez. Xerak left at the same time to go see his parents.

A tearful Vereez had asked Teg to sleep in her suite, and Teg had complied. After the household had settled for the night would be time for Part Two.

At what Peg liked to call the “pee-hour of the early morning,” Teg rose from her bed and, without turning on any lights, headed into the opulent bathroom that was part of Vereez’s suite. Her heart was thudding and she really did need to pee. As she was doing so, Vereez padded in after her.

“Oh,” she said in a sleepy voice. “Sorry. I’ll just wait while you finish.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Teg said, hoping she sounded natural.

She reached up and pulled the chain that would open the gravity fed flush, then moved to the sink and turned on the water. After quickly washing her hands, she reached for her talisman bracelet and rubbed the strands, muttering the activation charm.

This was the dicey part. Well, the first dicey part. What if the spell didn’t work? What if all the magic they’d encountered when fighting the various protectors in the Library had deactivated it? Hadn’t Hawtoor said the bracelets would work best in a low-magic area or something like that? More reasons why her talisman bracelet wasn’t going to work were flooding Teg’s mind when the door appeared, just as it should. Teg twisted the knob, then she and Vereez (who reached behind her to turn off the water), stepped through.

They appeared in Teg’s bedroom, startling Thought and Memory, who were sitting side by side, looking out the bedroom window. They took one look at Vereez, hissed, then melted under the bed. Teg felt a pang of guilt, but she was also feeling the pressure of time.

A quick glance at the window showed that it was night here, a clock confirmed the hour was about two in the morning. That was a relief, because Teg had been worried that (despite Meg’s careful calculations as to the best time for them to make the crossing) Felicity the cat sitter might be visiting. Also, it meant that they wouldn’t need to wait for the streets to be quiet, and they could head over to Meg’s. Teg pulled the shade down and then flipped on a light.

“We have a little leeway before we need to check in, since time passes more slowly here, but we have a lot to do.” Teg hurried over to one of her dressers, and pulled out a hooded sweatshirt. “Try this on. It’s one of the oversized ones I keep to wear over my bulkier field gear. Hopefully, the hood will be large enough to hide your nose.”

Vereez had automatically caught the sweatshirt in one hand, but she was staring around the room, her brown eyes wide. She bent to take a closer look at Thought and Memory, who were now peeking out, eyes wide in astonishment. Thought hissed, and Memory pulled back under the bed. Teg hunkered down so she could pat Thought.

“Don’t be an idiot, cat,” she said affectionately. “Surely you’ve seen a girl with a fox’s head before.”

Vereez was still looking avidly around Teg’s bedroom, her gaze travelling over all the things Teg took for granted: the electric light, the glowing readout of the digital clock, the tightly woven artificial fiber carpet, the photographs, back to the cats.

“Vereez, can you understand me?” Teg asked. One of their concerns had been that the translation spell wouldn’t carry over. They’d been prepared to communicate via charades if they must.

“This really is another world,” Vereez replied, her voice hushed. “I believed, but I had no idea how different it would be.”

“You’ll get a closer look at part of it. We’re going to need to walk over to Meg’s, because I can’t have my car vanishing from the garage.” Teg got down on her stomach and reached under the bed to pat Memory, who rubbed against her hand. Then reassured that her cats had forgiven her, she rolled over and got back to her feet. “Let’s see if that hood is enough to hide your snout.”

It wasn’t but, in combination with a wraparound scarf, someone would need to look closely to see anything but Vereez’s large brown eyes.

Downstairs, Teg got coats for both of them out of the front closet, making sure that Vereez’s was long enough to hide her tail. Vereez was already wearing trousers and boots from her own wardrobe that would pass well enough. The final touch was a walking stick left from when Teg had sprained her ankle a few field seasons back. She handed this to Vereez.

“Walk with this. If anyone comes to talk with us, bend over it, like you’re old and infirm.”

A short time later, trailed right up to the door by now actively inquisitive cats, Teg and Vereez stepped out into the cold winter night.

Not for the first time since Peg had outlined her plan, Teg was glad it was February, so bundling up would be more reasonable than not. Peg had wanted to be the one to take Vereez through, but she had been forced to admit that it was possible one of her numerous family members would have decided to house-sit for her in her absence. Meg hadn’t thought that anything in her wardrobe would make a good disguise for Vereez, while Teg’s wardrobe was widely varied both in style and sizes.

And having grown up poor, I do tend to hold on to things. I just hope I don’t become one of those hoarders. Of course, it’s not as if my undearly departed relatives left me a boatload of family heirlooms.

Teg reached for the phone and punched in Meg’s number. When the machine picked up, she left the prearranged message. “Hi, this is Tessa. We’re leaving now. It’s 2:15.”

Since they couldn’t precisely coordinate times, this was to give Meg something to check when she came through. Now she’d know they had made their escape. Leaving the door open between worlds hadn’t seemed like a good idea, so Meg would check periodically.

Now to hope her bracelet works, that they got Slicewind moved, that Vereez’s parents still think we’re both sound asleep in her suite. That Xerak . . .

Checking to make sure that she hadn’t left anything out of place that would alarm Felicity when she came by, Teg unlocked the door and led her much-bundled companion out into the street.

Teg’s house was in an urban neighborhood, within walking distance of the shopping center that included Pagearean Books. Meg lived on the far side of the same shopping center, in an apartment building that catered to seniors. It wasn’t quite a retirement community, but it did offer a few additional services. She’d carried her keys with her Over Where, and now they rattled in the pocket of Teg’s winter coat.

Vereez was fascinated by everything from the concrete sidewalks (“Is there a ritual reason they’re divided into such regular rectangles?”) to the streetlights (“Why are they so high up? Are you afraid someone is going to steal the light source?”).

During the hours after the others had left, Teg had coached Vereez about some of what to expect under the guise of telling her stories to distract her from her supposed fury at Grunwold. Therefore, the first car that went by made the fox woman jump, but didn’t frighten her. That was reserved for a motorcycle. As it roared toward them, Vereez dropped her walking stick and reached for the swords she wasn’t wearing.

“Easy!” Teg said, retrieving the stick and handing it to her. “That’s just a sort of two-wheeled car.”

Vereez looked shamefacedly at Teg. “Sorry. But that huge white eye, and the horrible sound, and the smell! How can you stand to live here? There are so many acrid smells!”

“The stink’s even worse in the summer,” Teg assured her. “But, remember, humans don’t have as sharp a sense of smell as you do. When we were driving through Rivers Meet, I noticed how clean the streets were, even though you use draft animals. I wonder if that’s because your people can’t ‘overlook’ mess.”

“Maybe . . . ” Vereez was definitely not convinced, but too fascinated by her surroundings to enter into one of their more usual debates.

When they reached the shopping center, Teg left Vereez outside while she darted into an all-night convenience store to buy a few cartons of cigarettes. On impulse, she bought some chocolate bars and a few other treats she thought the inquisitors would enjoy sampling.

Teg emerged to find Vereez gone. She was about to panic when she saw the bundled figure leaning on her cane in front of a fast food restaurant a few doors away. The eatery was closed for the night, but the window’s decorations showed clearly in the streetlights.

“I thought you said you don’t have our sort of people here!” Vereez said accusingly.

Teg looked where Vereez was pointing, puzzled. The restaurant’s window had been painted with a depiction of the shop’s mascot: a dashing tiger-headed man balancing a tray of burgers, tacos, drinks, and fries.

“That’s just fancy, imagination, whimsy,” Teg protested.

“But there, too!” Vereez said accusingly, pointing toward a sporting goods store in which a poster showed anthropomorphic representations of the Taima University’s mascot facing off against that of its archrival. Teg had to admit the wolf-head man could have been a cartoon representation of the riverboat captain who’d taken them downriver, while his owl-headed opponent could have been a particularly buff cousin of Hawtoor’s.

“Really,” Teg persisted, taking Vereez’s arm and steering her along, “it’s just fancy. As we told you, one of the things we’ve found very strange about your world is that you people have characteristics that match creatures in our world, but your own animals and plants—at least as far as we’ve been able to tell—are similar but different.”

“So those aren’t real?” Vereez insisted, pausing to look in the window of Pagearean Books, in which a display featuring books by Sandra Boynton and Richard Scarry showed a wide array of anthropomorphic animals.

“Not a one,” Teg insisted. “Please. We’ve got to get moving. Not only might Meg be waiting, but the shopping center’s security guard may come over to make sure we’re not potential vandals.”

“Do you think it’s because you all look so alike that you need to invent other sorts of people?” Vereez asked, allowing herself to be steered along. “It’s as if you feel the lack, even though you don’t know our type of people really exist.”

“Interesting theory,” Teg conceded. “Anthropologists—like me—usually explain the prevalence of animal totems, which are found in some form in just about every human culture, as a desire to take on the perceived qualities of the animal. Sports team mascots are almost always creatures who are swift and dangerous—not necessarily carnivores, although often they are, this despite the fact that the last thing that would be acceptable in most sports would be to physically maim or eat the other team.”

“So what are a fox’s perceived qualities?” Vereez asked.

Teg considered. “Cleverness verging on sneakiness, I guess. The Japanese kitsune is often depicted as looking much like you—a beautiful woman with the head and tail of a fox. I believe she can turn either into a fox or a human, but when she’s a human, she has to be careful to remember to hide her tail.”

“Tails,” Vereez said seriously, “can be a problem. Still, I wouldn’t want to do without mine.”

When they reached Meg’s apartment building, Teg had Vereez wait on the sidewalk while she tried the key Meg had given her for the front door. It worked fine, and they breezed through the foyer, to the bank of elevators. Another advantage of this late hour was that the front desk wasn’t manned after midnight, and the building’s ground-floor convenience store was also closed.

Luck seemed to be with them. An elevator car was waiting. They were inside and Teg was pushing the button for Meg’s floor when someone called out, “Hold the elevator, please!”

Teg considered refusing, but she knew that these doors didn’t close quickly and had a very acute sensor so they would spring open if any of the building’s slower-moving residents caught a cane or trailing bit of clothing while getting aboard. Instead, she motioned for Vereez to turn slightly away, then she hit the Open Door button.

A man came running up. Despite the cold, he wasn’t wearing a hat. Teg guessed he was somewhere between her and Peg in age, maybe a recent retiree who’d downsized to an apartment. He wasn’t bad looking, with a touch of iron to hair that was otherwise still dark, and weathered skin still bright from the cold.

“Thanks!” he said.

“What floor?”

Please don’t let it be seven. Please don’t let it be seven.

“Six, please.”

As Teg punched both buttons she thought thanks to the gods who protected fools. The elevator doors seemed to take forever to close.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” the man said.

“Oh, I don’t live here. I’m visiting a friend.”

Even as she said the words, Teg realized how lame they sounded. Who visited someone in a retirement community so late?

Fortunately, the man assumed that Vereez was the friend in question. Bent over as she was, wrapped in scarves, the young woman was doing a fair imitation of someone far older.

“It’s a nice place to live,” the man said. “I moved in right after Christmas.”

The bell pinged and the elevator stopped. The man got out with a cheerful, “See you around!” Teg managed to keep from sagging against the wall until the door was completely shut. Vereez began to giggle just as the elevator door slid open on Meg’s floor.

“Hush! Here’s where we get off. Take my arm and keep doing your bent-over old-woman act. It’d be just our luck to have the local insomniac out pacing the corridors.”

Vereez complied, but Teg could still feel her shaking with suppressed giggles as they traversed several halls to reach Meg’s apartment. When they were inside and the door locked behind them, Teg switched on the light. Either Meg wasn’t here yet or they’d missed her first pass.

Vereez looked around eagerly as they stepped into a large area that doubled as a dining room and entry hall. The coat closet Meg had chosen as her portal was to one side, so they’d do best to wait here.

“Is this Meg’s family?” Vereez indicated a neatly arranged group of photos on one wall.

Teg nodded. “Her late husband, Charles. Her son, also Charles, and her daughter, Judy. Below, that group picture, is Charles, his wife—Sandy, I think—and their two children. Judy was married once, briefly. I gather it didn’t work out.”

“They don’t live near?”

“No. Charles and his family are in New York City. He does something with stocks. Judy is in Los Angeles, California. I think she works with a movie agent or something.”

Those short sentences necessitated a lot of explanation and pulling out a map of the United States. Before Teg was well into what a movie was, and what an agent did—a subject about which she only knew something because of a novel they’d read in book club—Meg had opened the closet door and was leaning through.

“Excellent! You made it! I was worried when I made my first check, but I thought I was probably early.”

Behind Meg, Slicewind in full sail could be glimpsed. Grunwold was at the wheel, Xerak and Peg hovering nervously nearby. Vereez and Teg hurried through and Meg closed the door. Teg noticed that she didn’t look back.

The sun was high overhead, a visible reminder of how much faster time passed here. As Teg and Vereez stripped off their winter clothing, Teg gave a quick summary of how things had gone. Vereez kept interrupting to tell Xerak and Grunwold about the oddities of the human’s world. The young men were definitely interested, but they were distracted, too.

“Did you have trouble getting away?” Teg asked. “Any complications?”

“No, the plan went smooth as silk,” Peg said, with understandable pleasure, since it had largely been her creation. “As far as we know, Vereez’s parents haven’t yet twigged to her departure.”

“But what do we do now?” Vereez asked. The adrenaline was clearly fading, giving way to edginess. “We’re no further along in finding Ohent than we were—further, maybe, because my parents may try to prevent us.”

Xerak’s whisker’s twitched in a feline smile. “Yes and no. I did exactly what I told Zarrq and Inehem I was going to do, and visited my parents. I had a somewhat different reception from either you or Grunwold.”

“Oh?”

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Xerak said, seating himself on the deck and leaning against one of the lockers, “and let me tell you a tale.”


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Framed