Damn your eyes, Aral, Mist thought. Why did you have to tell him that?

“I see.” Kao E turned her way. His reptilian eyes narrowed. “Princess?”

“You have some idea whom such a man might be?”

“I believe so.”

“Does a weak link matter at this point?”

“Trebilcock obtained leverage. A lever is a tool any hand may wield.”

She nodded. “Too true. Speak to him. Find out what the leverage was, and the extent of the compromise. Use your own judgment afterward.”

“As you wish, Princess.”

Dantice got a cold, pale look. He stared at the bookshelves, shuddered.

Cham Mundwiller sucked on his pipe and said nothing. His face remained a mask of stone.

Mist glared at Aral and tried to force a thought into his mind. This isn’t a game, Aral. We’re playing for an empire.

“Where is this Trebilcock?” Kao E asked. “His testimony might be enlightening.”

“Nobody knows,” Aral replied. “He disappeared a while back. Somebody attacked General Liakopulos one night. Hurt him bad. Next day Michael was gone. Nobody knows if there’s a connection.”

That was the night the King visited me, Mist reflected. The night that Haas creature dragged him away, acting like he thought I was the villain of the day. “I’ve looked for him,” she said. “I like to keep track of him. He’s a dangerous man. I can’t find a trace.” She frowned at Aral, who could not conceal his distress. She wondered how he had become professionally successful with so little aptitude for conspiracy.

Aral asked, “Do you think he’s dead? That maybe he found something and it was too much for him to handle?”

Not a good conspirator at all. He let his concern for his friend distract him completely.

“I wouldn’t know, Aral. Lord Ch’ien, don’t interfere with Trebilcock. The King and Varthlokkur are much too fond of him.”

Kao E rose, nodded. “As you will. I’d best return. I do have my duties. And I have to relay the news to our friends.”

“By all means,” Mist said, concealing her delight at his going.

Kao E strode toward one corner of the room. He vanished as he was about to collide with the bookshelves. A column of air coruscated momentarily.

“That’s one spooky critter,” Aral said. “I don’t like him at all.”

“Don’t let him put you off,” Mist replied. “He’s stuck with me a long time. He’s one of the few Tervola I trust.”

“You know your own people.” And, “What he is to you and what he is to me aren’t necessarily the same thing. He probably thinks of me as a useful trained dog.”

Mist turned quickly, hoping he missed her surprise. That was exactly the way Lord Ch’ien would view a western collaborator. “Master Mundwiller. You haven’t said a word since you got here.”

Mundwiller looked down at the silver bowl. The scene therein continued, mouse-sized players arguing in silence. He harrumphed. “I’ll say good-bye, then. I’m not needed here.” His eyes twinkled.