Calandra groaned again. “We’ll be besieged!” She gnawed her lip.
“No, no, I don’t think so.” Paithan felt somewhat remorseful at being the cause of such agony. He reached out and patted his sister’s clenched hand. “We may be lucky this time, Callie. Human priests live in monasteries and take strict vows of poverty and such like. They couldn’t accept the money. And they have life pretty good in Thillia, not to mention the fact that they have a strongly organized hierarchy. They’re all answerable to some soft of father superior, and one couldn’t just pack up and head out for the wilds.”
“But the chance to convert an elf-”
“Pooh! They’re not like our priests. They haven’t time to convert anybody. They’re mainly concerned with playing politics and trying to bring back the Lost Lords.”
“You’re certain?” Calandra had regained some color in the pale cheeks.
“Well, not certain,” Paithan admitted. “But I’ve been around humans a lot and I know them. They don’t like coming into our lands, for one thing. They don’t like us, for another. I don’t think we have to worry about this priest turning up.”
“But why?” Calandra demanded. “Why would Papa do such a thing?”
“Because of the human belief that life came from the stars, which are really and truly cities, and that someday, when our world here below is in chaos, the Lost Lords will return and lead us back.”
“That’s nonsense!” Calandra said crisply. “All know life came from Peytin Sartan, Matriarch of Heaven, who created this world for her mortal children. The stars are her immortal children, watching over us.” She looked shocked, the full implication dawning on her. “You don’t mean to say that Father actually believes this? Why that…that’s heresy!”
“I think he’s beginning to,” said Paithan, more somberly. “It makes sense for him, Callie, when you think about it. He was experimenting with using rockets to transport goods before Mother died. Then, she leaves and our priests tell him that Mother’s gone to heaven to be one of the immortal children. His mind slips one little cog and he lights on the idea of using rockets to go find Mother. Now he misses the next cog and decides that maybe she’s not immortal but is living up there, safe and well, in some sort of city.”
“Blessed Orn!” Calandra groaned again. She sat silent for several moments, staring at the abacus, her fingers twitching one of the beads back and forth, back and forth. “I’ll go talk to him,” she said at last.
Paithan carefully kept his face under control. “Yes, that might be a good idea, Callie. You go talk to him.”
Calandra rose to her feet, her skirts rustling stiffly about her. She paused, and looked down at her brother. “We were going to discuss this next shipment-”
“That can wait until tomorrow. This is much more important.”
“Humpf. You needn’t pretend to look so concerned. I know what you’re up to, Paithan. You’ll be off on some scatter-brained outing with your fine friends instead of staying home, minding your business as you ought. But you’re right, though you probably don’t have brains enough to know it. This is more important.” A muffled explosion came from below, a crash of falling plates, and a scream from the kitchen. Calandra sighed. “I’ll go talk with him, though I’m bound to say I doubt if it’ll do much good. If I could just get him to keep his mouth shut!”
She slammed down the ledger. Lips compressed, back straight as a bridgepole tree, she marched in the direction of the door at the far end of the dining area. Her hips were straight as her back; no alluring swaying of skirt for Calandra Quindiniar.
Paithan shook his head. “Poor Guvnor,” he said with a moment’s feeling of true pity. Then, flipping the palm frond fan in the air, he went to his room to get dressed.
CHAPTER 2
EQUILAN, TREETOP LEVEL
DESCENDING THE STAIRS, CALANDRA PASSED THROUGH THE KITCHEN, LOCATED on the first floor of the house. The heat increased noticeably as she moved from the airy upper regions into the more closed and steamy lower part. The scullery maid-eyes red rimmed and a mark on her face from the cook’s broad hand-was sullenly sweeping up broken crockery. The maid was an ugly human, as Calandra had said, and the red eyes and swollen lip did nothing to enhance her appearance.