"None, I think, my lord."

"I see her as an ally: does that sound strange to you? The Metamorph queen and the Coronal, joined in league against those who wage biological warfare against us. Folly, eh, Tunigorn? Come, speak openly: you think it's folly."

Tunigorn shrugged. "On that score I can say very little, Valentine. I know only that I believe Deliamber is right: the Danipiur wants no meeting with you, and will not allow herself to be found. And I think that to spend further time in quest of her now—"

"Would be foolish. Yes. Folly indeed, while there's so much for me to do elsewhere."

Valentine fell silent. Absentmindedly he took a couple of the juggling implements from Zalzan Kavol and began to toss them from hand to hand. Plagues, famines, false Coronals, he thought. Madness. Chaos.

Biological warfare. The anger of the Divine made manifest. And the Coronal trekking endlessly through the Metamorph jungle on a fool's mission? No. No.

To Deliamber he said, "Do you have any idea where we are now?"

"As best I can calculate, some nineteen hundred miles southwest of Piliplok, my lord."

"How long, then, do you think it would take us to get there?"

Tunigorn said, "I wouldn't go to Piliplok at all just now, Valentine."

Frowning, Valentine said, "Why so?"

"The danger."

"Danger? For a Coronal? I was there just a month or two ago, Tunigorn, and I saw no danger!"

"Things have changed. Piliplok has proclaimed itself a free republic, so the word reaches us. The citizens of Piliplok, still having ample food supplies in storage, were fearful of having those supplies requisitioned for use in Khyntor and Ni-moya; and so Piliplok has seceded from the commonwealth."

Valentine stared as though into an infinite abyss. "Seceded? A free republic? These words have no meaning!"

"Nevertheless, they seem to have meaning for the citizens of Piliplok. We have no idea what sort of reception they would give you these days. I think it might be wise to go elsewhere until the situation becomes clearer," Tunigorn said.

Angrily Valentine responded, "How can I permit myself to fear entering one of my own cities? Piliplok would return to its allegiance the moment I arrived!"

Carabella said, "Can you be certain of that? Here is Piliplok, puffed up with pride and selfishness: and here comes the Coronal, arriving in a worn-out floater, wearing mildewed rags. And will they hail you, do you think? They have committed treason, and they know it. They might compound that treason rather than risk yielding themselves mildly up to your authority. Best not to enter Piliplok except at the head of an army, I say!"

"And I," Tunigorn added.

Valentine looked in dismay toward Deliamber, toward Sleet, toward Ermanar. They met his gaze silently, solemnly, sadly, bleakly.

"Then am I overthrown again?" Valentine asked, of no one in particular. "A ragged wanderer once more, am I? I dare not enter Piliplok? I dare not? And false Coronals in Khyntor and Ni-moya: they have armies, I suppose, and I have none, so I dare not go there either. What shall I do, become a juggler a second time?" He laughed. "No, I think not. Coronal is what I am: Coronal is what I shall remain. I thought I was done with this business of making repairs to my place in the world, but evidently not. Get me out of this jungle, Deliamber. Find me my way to the coast, to some port city that still gives me homage. And then we'll go forth in search of allies, and set things to rights all over again, eh?"