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Twenty-Five

Juliassa Hanorissia came in to lunch from a long morning on a hill, painting, and hung her sun hat on a rack. At first she didn't pick up on her parents' moods.

"Hello, father," she said cheerily. "Hello, mother."

The naamir didn't reply, didn't look at her. The amirr grunted and spooned in another bite of melon.

Umh! Something to do with Tirros, the namirrna decided. She looked the table over, crystal a transparent yellow, with yellow napkins on a snow-white cloth, harmonizing aesthetically with the golden-fleshed melon, ripe greenberries, milk and breadfruit. She reached, not bothering the serving girl to serve her, not bothering her parents with questions. They'd tell her if they wanted to.

She'd mostly finished eating when her father spoke.

"I want you to go back to your aunt in the morning," he said quietly. "For a week or two."

She looked up at him. "Is something the matter?"

"Your brother is in serious trouble. It has to do with the foreigners—and other things. There will be unpleasantness."

This piqued her curiosity. "I can stand unpleasantness."

The amirr shook his head. "And you will no longer see Ambassador Brokols. That is best for both of you. He is a source of serious troubles for Hrumma, and albeit inadvertently, for the family."

She opened her mouth to speak, but her father's gesture and warning look stilled her. "I will brook no argument on this," he said.

Green eyes flashing, Juliassa Hanorissia got stiffly from the table and left the room.

* * *

Leonessto Hanorissio knew the news was bad. Travvos Disotto was a hard man, but just now his face expressed regret. "We arrested Billbis," the inspector said. "And questioned him. He confessed to practicing as an untrained adept. The mirj has employed him on a number of occasions for purposes immoral and sometimes criminal. He confessed to five burglaries in company with the mirj, and to being an accomplice in the kidnapping and murder of the ambassador's assistant."

He paused, avoiding the amirr's eyes. "It was Tirros who actually killed the man. He didn't know what else to do with him, so he stabbed him. Through the eye into the brain, to avoid a large flow of blood. Billbis has offered to show us where they dumped the body—into the sea with a rock tied to his neck and another to his ankles. On Brindossi Cove."

The inspector paused, looked up now at the amirr's gray face, and continued. "He knows of no place except the Vencurrio's where the mirj might hide. We've checked there, but they haven't seen him. I have men watching the approaches, but I don't expect he'll show up."

An evening-warbler sang in the early dusk outside the window, sounding like a trill pipe but purer, more perfect. It was the amirr's eyes that had fallen now, and Disotto turned his mind away. He felt for this man and preferred not to see his pain.

"Have you told the ambassador?" the amirr asked.

"No, milord. I intend to when I leave here."

"Do not. I'll tell him myself. In the morning, when he comes to the Fortress. Or failing that, I'll send a messenger to fetch him. But not tonight." Now their eyes met.

"As you wish, Your Eminence."

The inspector excused himself then and departed. Leonessto Hanorissio stood alone with his thoughts, which perhaps surprisingly turned to his daughter. He'd been unjustly severe to her. But still, it was better for her to be away from here now. And it was better if she stayed away from the foreigner, Allbarin's presentiment notwithstanding.

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Framed