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to me." He again fixed Sandon with that lingering gaze, then nodded and walked away. That last look had invoked a sense of unease, deep in Sandon's belly. He watched the priest's thin figure disappearing across the other side of the camp. Finally, he turned back, ready to load the last of the sacks. Fran looked at him and grinned. Together they lifted the sack and tossed it into the back of the wagon, then dusted off their hands.

Sandon nodded slowly, and just as slowly he said, "Thank you." He didn't speak the last words he added to the thought, I think.

"Fran," he said, as they headed back to assist with other preparations. "You said something about the way the Principal has been acting. What did you mean?"

Fran looked troubled. "I'm not sure I can say. It's, just�well, I don't think he's been himself. I wouldn't like to say any more than that."

The young man refused to be drawn any further on the topic, but it only served to make Sandon's sense of unease more solid.

Seventeen

Long after the encounter with the lone Kallathik, Tarlain stood within the passageway entrance considering his options. His first urge had been to turn and walk rapidly away from the central chamber, head back to his simple burrow and sit until the beating of his heart stilled. That had been the first urge, and then he thought about why he was there, why he was buried away in the heart of the hills in the darkness and gloom, amongst a species not his own. Not that he particularly felt a part of his own race, or any particular race at the moment, but he reminded himself that he was here for a reason. Steeling himself, he stood tall, tried to adopt the air that was proper for a Men Darnak, stepped back into the chamber and cleared his throat. Two of the Kallathik heads turned to face him. The others stood where they were, unmoving.

"I am Tarlain Men Darnak," he said, as clearly and as slowly as possible. "I am from the Guild of Welfare. I am here to help you."

He heard the words repeated, then the signing of amusement, but he was not going to be deterred. He tried again, speaking in a loud clear voice. And suddenly there was a Kallathik right in front of him. He gasped, took two steps backward and the Kallathik was with him again. He swallowed, looking up into the vast alien face.

"But how did you...?" He had barely seen the Kallathik move. He had seen the rapid motion when the Atavists had been in the chamber before, but even that had not prepared him for the creature's sudden presence right on top of him. He took another hesitant step back. No. This couldn't be happening. He had watched the Kallathik for weeks. He had observed them from a distance for seasons before that.

"We know who you are, Tarlain Men Darnak. You are with the Guilds. You are the Principal's offspring. You are part of the Principate."

Again, Tarlain was rocked. They knew exactly who he was, what his station and function in life were, and they had understood exactly what he was saying. He tried rapidly to regain his composure, but it was hard with an enormous Kallathik looming above him and several more clustered in the chamber's middle. Suddenly, he felt very much alone and very, very out of place.

"I...I...," he started, then paused, took a deep breath and started again. "Yes, I am Tarlain Men Darnak. I am attached to the Guild of Welfare, but I am no longer part of the Principate."

There was a long silence. He cleared his throat nervously, waiting. Finally, the Kallathik spoke in its sibilant, clacking voice. "What are you doing here?" it asked.

"I came to help you," he said again, his voice sounding unconvincing even to his own ears. "Really�" He didn't know whether the last was to convince them or to convince himself.

"Why would the Guilds wish to help us? Why would the Principal's offspring wish to help us?" said the Kallathik. The amusement sign echoed all around the chamber, and Tarlain felt himself flush. He looked around the Kallathik's bulk, scanning the sides of the vast meeting cave, looking at the cleanly hewn ceiling, then back at the creature standing above him.

"I don't know why," he said. "I do. We do. The conditions in the mines..." His voice trailed off, its echoes fading back to him mockingly from the walls all around him.

He tried again. "In the Guild of Welfare, we care about the well being of all our inhabitants, all the parts of our society..." Once again, the amusement sign echoed from the hollow walls and his voice trailed away to nothing. He had been so sure, so convinced of what he meant to do.

The Kallathik lapsed into silence once more. There was a long, long pause. Tarlain suddenly had the impression that there was more than silence going on. Finally the one in front of him spoke. "We are patient," it said simply. "If you want to help, you should come with me now and you should understand. We have been ready for a long time."

Despite his confusion, Tarlain nodded, and then when that provoked nothing, finally spoke. "All right. I will come with you."

The Kallathik turned, and assuming it was what the creature meant him to do, Tarlain followed across the vast chamber and into a passageway across the other side. As he crossed, vague rustlings came from the other Kallathik. For some reason that he didn't quite understand, he was still amusing them.

The Kallathik led him down a long corridor. Several other passages crossed its length, and though he tried surreptitiously to feel for his own marks at each junction, his fingers met smooth metal. How could he have missed this entire section? He pressed his lips together and followed, further, deeper into the darkness of the complex. The vent holes became fewer the further they went, and soon Tarlain was forced to keep one hand outstretched, fingertips tracing the metallic walls to make sure of his way. He could sense the vast bulk of the creature leading, but its shape was little more than blackness upon further blackness. Suddenly, the Kallathik stopped, and Tarlain nearly ran right into its tail. It spoke.

"Here, on the floor, there is a lantern."

Tarlain knelt and felt with outstretched hands. He located the lantern, fiddled with it in the darkness, and after several attempts, managed to spark it to life. The yellowish glow guttered, then firmed and spread throughout the passage. The Kallathik stood nearby, watching him. The lantern light reflected from its dark, hard plates and sparked within its eyes. Tarlain's gaze was immediately drawn to the huge totem beside the waiting Kallathik. It was a standard, precisely carved example of the Kallathik art, but there was something deeper, darker about the burnished wood. He frowned up at it.

"This is one of our own places," said his guide, dragging his attention back. Tarlain wasn't sure what the creature meant.

The Kallathik turned and wrapped its twinned arms around the totem's body. With one effortless movement, it lifted the statue and moved it to one side. Tarlain gasped. The heavy, hard wood must weigh as much as a groundcar � more. The Kallathik moved forward again, leading him past the totem and into a new passageway. Remembering to close his mouth, Tarlain followed.

This tunnel led to another chamber, but its entranceway was small, and the Kallathik bulk obscured the space from view until the creature had pushed its way fully into the long chamber. The air was musty, but somehow dryer than it had been before. Tarlain held the lantern aloft, and caught his breath. On every wall, spread across the floor, lying in bundles, lay what he could only presume were spears. They were long, straight, pointed on each end. Hardened and tempered, made from the wood that the Kallathik held so dear. There had to be thousands of them. Tarlain swallowed once, twice in succession, trying to regain some of the moisture that suddenly seemed to be missing from his mouth.

Jarid looked out with satisfaction from the Guild Room's windows. Yarik's streets were nearly empty now. The occasional wagon or cart, teetering with heavy burdens, made difficult progress between the vast squat buildings and across the city squares. The quake of two days ago had opened a vast fissure across the main roadway outside and tumbled one of the walls of the building opposite. Jarid grinned as a wagon driver tried to negotiate the boards crossing the break in the road, while his companion flapped around giving instructions. What a life. He snorted and turned away from their painstaking advance. He had better things to consider. Markis was on his way. Everything was in place. He had managed to delay his father's departure to the country estate just long enough with this detail or that detail that needed his attention. The old man had not suspected a thing. With Markis out of the picture, it had been easy to argue a lack of organization. And now ... now�

He strolled the length of the table, tapping his hand on the chair backs, one by one, then moved to the head of the table and looked along its length, imagining in his mind's eye the faces gathered around. And there, right at the top, would be his place. He gave a quirk of his lips and closed his eyes.

"Jarid, there you are."

Jarid opened his eyes, struggling to suppress a grimace. Stupid. He had to be far more careful. Slowly, he turned to face his father.

Thankfully, Aron Ka Vail seemed not to have noticed. "I'm glad I found you here. I need you with me. Karryl Ky Menin is coming. It's lucky that you dissuaded me from leaving yet. Most fortunate. Apparently, Ky Menin has some serious matters to discuss."

"What does he want?"

His father crossed to his usual chair at the head of the table and sat, slumping a little as he did so. Jarid held his look in check. His chair. It was his chair. The timing couldn't be worse. Not here. Not today. Aron Ka Vail stared down at his hands before looking up.

He spoke slowly. "As far as I can tell, there is trouble between Ky Menin and Yosset Clier. We can't afford it right now. I suppose now, with everything in disarray, with Men Darnak off wandering the countryside, Clier believes Ky Menin is vulnerable. He could be making a play for more influence in the Principate. Perhaps he means to topple Ky Menin entirely. The Prophet knows, Technology is a pain at most times, but Ky Menin is a shrewd operator. I hardly think he's going to be an easy target."

"But that's ridiculous," said Jarid moving to rest his hands on a chair in front of him. "What is Clier thinking? We need to maintain unity at the moment. Besides, Clier is one of ours. Primary Production should be standing together."

"Exactly. I would think that's why Ky Menin is coming here."

"But I don't see Clier doing this of his own volition."

"Agreed," said his father. "And who do you think might be behind it?"

"Why the wife, of course. The Men Darnak woman. She's always held a firm grip on Clier's, uh, assets."

Aron nodded. "Quite right. Yosset should know better. I suppose he thinks that with the Men Darnak boy newly installed, he has more room to maneuver, but the problem is ... wait, unless ... unless Karin believes she can control the Guild of Technologists through her brother. That would give her access both to Primary Production and to Technology. That would really

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