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Shinsan. Now she wants it back.
 She s vulnerable, though. Through the children.
 Aren t we all. The wizard turned bitter.  They re hostages to fortune.
 Can she make the comeback?
 I wouldn t know. I don t know what s happening in Shinsan s politics. And I
don t want to know. I just want to ignore them, and have them ignore me.
 But they won t.
 No. They won t. Not forever.
They watched shooting stars for a while. Then Varthlokkur said,  It won t
matter if she does win, you know. Shinsan is Shinsan.
 You don t think she d change anything?
 She couldn t if she wanted. She wouldn t be allowed. You and I and Kavelin
have earned their special attention. Someday they ll come again.
 Look at that one! Almost like a comet for a second.
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 Uhm. Musingly, the wizard continued,  It should be a while coming. They ve
had some bad years, and they re staring trouble in the eye in Matayanga. They
haven t fully pacified the territories they occupied during the war. Right now
they re hoping like the one-legged whore the day the fleet came in.
Bragi chuckled and looked the wizard askance. That was not a Varthlokkur
figure of speech.  If they ll give me a decade, or even another year, I ll be
grateful. I ll take it and be happy because I don t think we can turn them
back again. I think having Mist in charge might set the day of reckoning back
a little, and soften the blow when it falls.
 It s your choice. Just don t forget O Shing.
 O Shing? O Shing was the prince who had overthrown Mist and driven her out
of the empire, only to be overthrown himself.
 He didn t want to come west. He fought it all the way. And that s why he s
no longer with us.
 I know. But the people who pushed him out are gone now too. Holy . . . !
Did you see the size of that one? All right. I ll take a few days to poke
around and to think about it. Then I ll get Gjerdrum and you and a couple
others together and we ll decide whether we should help her. And if we do, how
visible our help should be.
 It s your choice, as I say, but you re just asking for grief if you do it.
You have problems enough at home. Problems more deserving of your attention.
Also, watch who you include in your  we. I have no intention of getting
involved with the Dread Empire again. Unless they come after me first.
 Pardon me for jumping to conclusions. I thought it might be a way for you to
make contacts who could check out your Ethrian questions for you.
The wizard stiffened. He turned slowly, gazed at the King. After a moment, he
nodded and said,  Maybe it would, at that.
Three men had gathered in Mist s library. Two leaned over her silver divining
bowl. Her bowl did not contain the common water. She was wealthy. She could
afford the far more expensive and reliable quicksilver coveted by every seer.
Aral Dantice shifted restlessly, nervous as a youth on the brink of losing
his virginity. Mist watched him as closely as she did her bowl. She had made a
mistake, telling him how much the King suspected. He had the Michael
Trebilcock shakes. If this went the wrong way, he might crack . . . She did
not want to think about that. Heroic measures might be required.
Cham Mundwiller filled the air with clouds from his pipe. The third man
occupied a chair against one wall. His eyes were halfway closed. Neither his
stance nor expression betrayed any emotion. He was as patient as a snake.
His coloring and mien matched Mist s. His clothing was western. He seemed
uncomfortable with it. Though duskier than Dantice or Mundwiller, his face had
a pallid look. He was accustomed to wearing a mask.
Mist s breath caught, sounding a little gasp. The easterner s eyelids
twitched.  Aral! Mist said.  Come here.
Dantice stared down into the bowl, at four minute human shapes seated round a
table. For a long time now the four had been arguing, pounding the table,
pushing bits of documentary evidence at one another. Nothing seemed changed.
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 What? he asked.
 It s going our way. She grinned at herself. Her voice had picked up a high,
musical squeak of excitement.
 How can you tell when we can t hear what they re saying?
 Hush. Just hush and watch.
They watched the figures argue. Suddenly, Mist leapt away from the table. She
yelped happily and threw her arms around Dantice.  It s official. The King got
his way. We don t have to hide and sneak anymore. She kissed him.
He responded with a vigorous male salute. Mist stepped back. Head tilted,
unable to control a lopsided smile, she said,  That might be nice too, Aral.
He blushed. He stammered.
Mundwiller exhaled a blue cloud and smiled knowingly. Aral turned redder
still.
The third man saved him. He rose, stared into the bowl. His face remained
arctically cool. He nodded once, returned to his chair.  It s good.
Dantice shuddered. Mist smiled, mildly amused. Lord Ch ien Kao E always got
that reaction when first he spoke. His throat had been injured long ago. He
retained just a ghost of a voice, a dry husk that grated like salt in a raw
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