“True, but the Ildiran Empire is so much older. Do you have any more stories about them? Why is there so little information about the Klikiss race? They were once an important civilization, just like yours. Were the Klikiss gone before the Ildiran Empire was formed?”

Vao’sh looked puzzled, considering how best to answer her question. By his reluctance, Otema realized that the historian had not often considered the fundamental question.

“The Klikiss and their robots are part of a different tale,” Vao’sh finally said. “A history all their own. Perhaps they have no role in our story, or yours.” He backed away, his skin lobes flushing an unusual range of colors. “Or perhaps that part of the tale has not yet been written.”

86: NIRA

86NIRA

The view from the crystal balconies of the Prism Palace was spectacular. Prime Designate Jora’h took Nira up to an observation ledge beside the rushing gurgle of upward-flowing streams. He left his bodyguards inside so that he and the lovely Theron woman could have a few moments to themselves.

“This is one of my favorite places,” he said.

Nira took a few moments to catch her breath. “It’s … beautiful.” Jora’h reached out to touch her arm, then held her hand. She let his grip linger there.

Atop its commanding hill, the Prism Palace overlooked the far-flung skyline of Mijistra. Sinuous glasslike structures crept toward the horizon, like ripples on a pond. The tall Palace towers rose high, surrounded by spherical domes of the governmental ministries. The viewing ledge thrust out at an angle with the support stalks bent inward so that as Nira stood on the transparent shelf with no obvious support beneath her feet, she seemed to be floating off into space with Jora’h at her side.

Rising steps of land on the citadel hill led up to hemispherical platforms and domes that supported the Palace. Seven major streams, all of them cut into perfectly straight channels, converged to a single central point.

The Prime Designate said, “The original designers of the Prism Palace wanted to show that all things, even the laws of nature, flow toward the all-seeing and all-powerful Mage-Imperator.” Jora’h lowered his voice and smiled warmly at her. “Unfortunately, I defy that concept—for all of my thoughts flow toward you, Nira.”

Laughing with embarrassment, she squeezed his hand. At the archway behind them, the ferocious-looking bodyguards seemed completely unconcerned by their behavior. “Being so high … the sight takes my breath away. It reminds me of Theroc, when I would climb to the tops of the worldtrees.”

“Reynald described your world to me, and it sounds beautiful.” Jora’h’s smoky eyes glittered as he painted the pictures in his mind. “I will visit Theroc one day. Perhaps with you.”

“And along with an entire cadre of attenders and bodyguards and assistants,” she said with a smile. “It would be hard to have any peace around you, once we left Mijistra.”