The second moon was setting over Chauvelin’s garden, throwing long shadows. Beyond the garden, fireworks flared in silent splendor over the Inland Water, great sprays of colored light that rivaled the moon. Damian Chrestil stood in a darkened embrasure, one of the archways that looked out onto the upper terrace, idly tugging the curtain aside to watch the departing guests, filing by ones and twos along the path that led to the street. His eye was caught by a familiar figure: Ransome, and the pilot was with him. That was a good sign—Ransome should stay preoccupied with the nets, with the Game, with Lioe to distract him—and he smiled briefly.
“So you see it’s going well.” Ji-Imbaoa slipped into the embrasure beside him, gestured to one of his household, who bowed and backed away.
Damian let the heavy curtain fall back into place, effectively cutting off any view from the garden. He was blind in the sudden darkness, heard ji-Imbaoa’s claws chime against a crystal glass, a faint, unnerving music. “So far,” he said.
“Chauvelin has accepted that it is important, and Ransome will do what he tells him,” the Visiting Speaker went on. “I should think that conditions would be ideal.”
Damian’s eyes were beginning to adjust to the dimness. He could see ji-Imbaoa outlined against the faint light from the hallway; he shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing the curtains, and a thin beam of moonlight cut across the space, drawing faint grey lights from the Visiting Speaker’s skin. “Conditions will be ideal,” Damian said, “once I have the codes.”
Ji-Imbaoa gestured unreadably, only the fact of the movement visible in shadow behind the moonlight. “It takes time to get those, time and a certain amount of privacy. I will have them for you tomorrow, I am certain of that.”
“Tomorrow,” ji-Imbaoa said again, and there was a note in his voice that warned Damian not to push further.
“All right,” he said, but couldn’t resist adding, “Tonight was such a good chance. I’m just sorry we missed it.”
Ji-Imbaoa made a hissing sound, but said nothing.
“Until tomorrow, then,” Damian said, cheerfully, and slipped out of the embrasure before the Visiting Speaker could think to stop him.
Part Four
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Day 1
Lioe woke slowly, blinking in the light that seeped in through the filtered windows. She lay still for a moment, remembering where she was, then cautiously pushed herself upright. The door to Ransome’s bedroom was still closed, but the light was on in the little kitchen, and she could hear the last gasps as an automatic coffee maker completed its cycle. She glanced sideways, checking the time, and made a face as the numbers flashed red against the stark white wall. Almost noon, and she was committed to a midafternoon meeting at Shadows, reviewing her scenario for a group of club session leaders.