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Lohengrin: Sharing Information?

"I imagine," said the Baronne, "he was one of the Auburni.

"But one thing, my child," she added, looking at Opal. "He did not know Ayesha. And when he told you he did, he was lying. That, in part, confirms my suspicions. The Auburni have always been glib.

"And now they know ... about us."

She was silent for a moment, considering, before looking at Seth. "When Lazarus attuned to Ayesha's plantaxy, something of her essence would have gone out of it. And what was left - was mingled with Lazarus' essence. As time goes on, and he uses it more and more, it will become more and more his. Even if he were to forswear it now - which would be in breach of her dying wish - it would be too late for even a crystal reader as skilled as ... as Opal here ... to see only Ayesha in the crystal.

"I'm sorry," she said gently. "But Ayesha understood. And she wanted Lazarus to survive.

"As for Simon ... I don't think he will get far."

Tobias fiddled with his drink nervously, making another, and this time, there was a sight more spirit than flavor to it. "Good... And while our little plant is away... You know he is lying about this Ayesha. What else do you know about him? How did he go from the camp of one enemy to another... Oh, hell, not even go: he became the trusted left hand of the Lady! Is that where we're headed now? To the camp of the Auburni?"

Seth made another scotch, this one straight, and tossed it off; the liquid burned all the way down. His voice was raw, too, as he spoke. "I wish... that either of them had been a bit more forthcoming. Despite calling our thief 'My Lord', you couldn't say from that exchange that one worked with or for the other."

He looked at Tobias. "But Ayesha...she actually did work alone, most of the time. I promised to tell you of her. We were together a long time, you see, through a lot of shadows."

His voice dropped off again, as if he were at a loss for words; then he spoke with the practiced air of a storyteller...

***********

When Seth awoke, he saw the girl's head hanging upside-down to his, leaning over the back of the chair, short blonde curls cascading past her face. He jumped, and her lips pulled back into a sunny smile.

"G'day. Awake yet?"

"What the-"

"You're even cuter than I thought. She said so, of course, but the way she went on about you-"

"Where is she?" Seth sat up, narrowly missing the girl's head, and swung his legs off the ottoman that had magically appeared under his feet in the night. He regretted it immediately; cold fire raced down his legs from his feet and legs being asleep.

"Sorry, she's gone. She told me to look after you." Again the grin, which Seth almost unconsciously copied. "I'm Ayesha."

He looked her up and down, and then did it again; it was worth it. She had short blonde curly hair, of course, and a very lithe form; she was dressed somewhat as a man, with breeches and boots, and a large bloused shirt that hung loosely on her.

"I'm Seth," he replied, stamping life into his feet.

"Of course you are. Hurry up, we've got a long day ahead."

"What do you mean? Where are we going?" Seth stood up; it hurt, but he would be able to walk.

"First, breakfast. Then, we'll get started on your plantaxy. Then, I think it will be weapons training."

Seth followed her out of the room, hobbling a little faster than he really wanted; Ayesha had a quick stride. "Look, I know she said that, but I can take care of myself. Really."

Ayesha suddenly spun; taken quite a bit off guard, Seth was only able to put up a token block with his arm, deflecting a strike at his eyes. His next two blocks were stronger and he grabbed her arm, expecting to twist it with his greater strength. Her leg sweep took him completely by suprise, and the next thing he knew he was on his back and the girl was sitting on his chest.

"Not bad, not bad," she said, standing up. "Maybe I won't have to do too much. But - whoops!" Seth's own leg sweep caught her perfectly, and he rolled on top of her.

"Really, like I said."

"She said that you said you barely knew how to swing that sword," Ayesha said. Her breath smelled like mint, and Seth controlled his panting; he was sure that his own breath was not up to par. But why was she breathing hard? "I need to teach you."

He rolled back off, stood carefully, and when it became apparent that Ayesha wouldn't return the trip, extended a hand.

"Fair enough." Once she was up (he noticed that her hands were rough and callused, like a man's), he brushed distastefully at his clothing.

"Don't worry. You look like you've rolled around on the ground in your clothes after sleeping in them."

"Great," Seth said.

"Wasn't that the look you were going for?"

"Hardly," he said, giving up on the attempt.

"Why don't you find some clothes that are a little more comfortable? We're going to be pretty active today." Ayesha led him towards a dining room where the buffet table fairly groaned under the weight of food.

"I had some, damn it. The Baroness made me 'presentable' for company on the train."

"You got to ride on a train?" Her face lit up. "I love trains. Anything with a steam engine."

"A steam what?"

"You did fall off the turnip truck, didn't you?" At Seth's blank look, she patted his arm. "Don't worry, we'll get you up to speed. Literally. We need to find a fast shadow, then we can get to work. Just do everything my way and we'll get along fine."

"Whatever. What is 'fast shadow'?"

"You'll see. Oh, quit worrying about your clothes. After today, you'll never have to worry about clothes again."

"We'll be nude?"

Ayesha burst into laughter for almost a full minute. She wiped tears from her eyes and said, "Come on, let's eat." Still chuckling, she led him to bowing servants and passed him a plate.

*************

Seth blinked against the bright light of morning, and realized that only a few minutes had passed; Ayesha's hands were still kneading his shoulders, and he still held the gem at eye level. Power was there now, he could feel it, and he knew it to be his.

"You're back," Ayesha said.

"In- incredible," he finally said.

"Welcome to a bigger world," she said, and smiled that infectious smile.

He grinned back. "All that power... where does it come from? What are these things?"

"I don't know."

"What was it like when you did it?" "It was like I was in fire, immolated, and I opened my mouth to scream and realized that it was my fire, that I could control it." She shrugged. "It's hard to describe. How about you?"

"I became wind," he said. "That's about the best I could say it." He cocked his head. "It'll make me stronger."

"That's what it did for me. Not too long ago, either."

Seth's jaw dropped. "You're new at this, too?"

"Relatively," she said. "Suprised?"

"You seem so knowledgeable," he said. "What can you do?"

"I can create fire, and shape it," Ayesha replied. "I haven't really worked on it yet, not as much as I wanted. Perdi said that you'd had some practice before you even got your plantaxy. What can _you_ do?"

Seth smiled and took her hand. "Let me show you." Concentrating on the crystal, letting his power flow through it, feeling the incredible surge in return, Seth worked with temperature and pressure. He let the winds form, swirl around them, until the strength was what he wanted. He focused, concentrated, and they rose a few inches off the paved ground; Ayesha gasped and clung to him. Seth, his mind embroiled with wind, didn't notice. Before, he could only use the winds as a cushion against falling; but here, now, he could truly fly. He looked up to the blue of the sky, and the wind took them there.

They flew for a long time on the winds; he learned as they went, learned to use the natural updrafts to relax, learned how to push up and forward at the same time. They flew with the birds, the winds whipping at their clothes and hair, and Ayesha laughed as the land moved beneath them. There were no tricks this first time; even hovering was difficult. Seth explored, pushed his limits, learned the speed past which it became difficult to breathe. Eventually, he began to notice the long bar of warmth that was Ayesha's body against his, and he realized that they had been in the air and the cold for long enough. They touched down, and she still leaned against him. There was a space of time where words failed them, and they stood there in an long embrace, her brown eyes staring into his violet ones.

"Your eyes are full of the sky," she finally said.

"Yours are full of the sun," he replied.

*********************

She started a fire with merely a gesture, and they ate food that she had thoughtfully packed. Later, under the purpling sky, Seth unpacked the harp and played. It was a thing of wood and ivory, and the notes were sweet and ethereal. He played many songs of Herune, from royal ballads to farmers' threshing songs, and occasionally Ayesha would sing with him; but mostly she danced. Her body told a language as vibrant as the music, and many times Seth had to concentrate to keep playing. Beautiful, he thought. But eventually his playing grew halted as he began to make mistakes, and Ayesha sat exhausted with him. They only had one tent, and there was no question that they would huddle for warmth as the fire burned low; but she made no moves for him, and he ignored his own instincts as well. There was no knowing if she had someone else, or even if she was interested, and he had no desire to be immolated in flame. While the fire popped and insects chirped, she told him of half a hundred places and worlds, of different religions, societies, and peoples.

"It's a war out there," she said at one point. "There are those who are just as egotistical and greedy and powerful as our ancestors. Everyone has their own agenda, their own plan. There are those of us, those with some integrity and honor, who fight against the corruption of the others."

"Who's to say that we're right and they're wrong?" Seth mumbled jokingly.

Ayesha frowned. "What feels right?" she said with uncharacteristic seriousness.

"Hey, I was just kidding. I, of course, am above reproach and should be trusted in all things."

She smiled that same freckled grin. "That's part of why I like you. You have that honesty."

Seth raised his eyebrows. "Are you serious? I thought I was pretty sophisticated."

"Compared to what?"

"Hmmph...good point."

********************

"She took me to one of her old masters- someone who taught me the manriki-gusari. It was a mistake; the man had been turned, and tried to get me to join him. I guess the Auburnii were behind it. I had to kill him, at the end. Ayesha...wasn't happy about it. We had a falling out for a while. Years. She forgave me, though, eventually."

*****************

She spent several weeks with him, as he nursed her back to health. They were together again, yes, but things had changed slightly; they spent as much time apart in Shadow as together. She recovered, and they met every once in a while, at the Schloss or at a number of other meeting places in Shadow. The meetings were short, never more than a week or two. One day she suprised him with a strange carriage, one whose steam engine was powered with her own flame; they spent many hours driving it. Gradually, wisdom and sophistication replaced the wide-eyed innocence of their eyes. They both began to know the ins and outs of shadow travel, and during that time, Seth began to realize that he needed her. Each meeting sweeter, each absence less bearable.

One such time, at the Schloss, Ayesha announced that she would leave the next morning. He plied her with wine, and talked to her through the night, but could not change her mind.

"There are so many things that I need to do," she said.

He almost missed her the next morning, but thankfully the steam engine of her carriage woke him. He rushed out as she climbed into the cab.

"Wait!" he said, hobbling; he had forgotten his boots in his rush.

"Seth," she said, smiling, "I have to go."

"Ayesha, I..."

"What?"

He couldn't say it. "Be careful," he choked out instead. "Come back."

"I always do."

On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her. Not the friendly thing that they had grown used to doing, but a prolonged kiss; she put her hand on his chest at first, as if thinking of pushing him away, but snaked up into his hair instead.

"Come back," he said as they broke the kiss.

"I will," she said, and smiled that infectious grin. He watched as the carriage chugged away, then turned and made his way back into the manor.

***********

Only when they were alone together in the drawing room (the servants having been dismissed with another imperious gesture), did the Baronne raise the veil - and her reason for wearing it became apparent. Her eyes were reddened with weeping, as was her nose.

"Seth," she said, and her voice shook a little. "Seth, there is no easy way to tell you this. Ayesha is dead."

It couldn't be. He still had the letter in his pocket. It had kisses on it. She was going to come back, and they were going to have a heart-to-heart talk, and... He was going to tell her that he loved her. Seth realized that he was leaning rather heavily on an end table. He stood up straighter, and didn't realize that he had thrown the thing across the room until he saw it crash against the wall.

Then he sat. He couldn't see the Baroness any more; she was blurred in his tears. "I loved her," he said. "I fell in love with her. I never told her."

There was a long pause, then the soft rustle of taffeta. As he sat in the chair, he felt the touch of an elderly hand, wrinkled and liverspotted beneath the fine leather glove, but resting brief on his shoulder, a sympathy that went too deep for words.

He looked up. "Tell me what happened. Where is she?"

The Baronne looked down at him for a moment, and then the hand lifted from his shoulder as she moved away to the long window that overlooked the formal garden with its elaborate topiary. It was doubtful how much she could see through the mist of autumn rain that lent a grey dreariness to the vista but then it was likely that the Baronne was not seeking to admire the view.

"It was a Shadow called Uluru. Ayesha used it several times ... a useful linking Shadow. However, the one she had been sent to collect had ... already attracted attention. We believe. They were in her truck ... they had nearly made it to the great rock where she had set a songline ... But they were attacked. Or so we believe. We found her body, under a clumsy cairn. Close by ... there was the corpse of a vilvird - a creature you get in that Shadow. A vast bird with claws and a vile beak of teeth - leather, not feathers. Three times the size of Aysha herself. This one ... had been picked clean by other vilvirds. But all its body was broken - as though someone had taken it up in a giant hand and crushed it.

"Ayesha ... had terrible wounds. Perhaps the vilvird ... perhaps a weapon. With prompt medical treatment - perhaps she might have lived. But ...."

She was silent for a long moment.

"Her body is being brought here," she said.

****************

"After that ... there are Shadows where you might start to look for other Plantaxy bearers. But Seth - you must be so, so very careful. I will give you the names of some of the locations we have made as safe as we could. There - that is where you should start."

Less than a week later, Seth was staring at a closed casket.

The Baronness was right; there were grievous wounds, but had he gotten there in time, given the proper medical treatment, she probably would have made it.

They were in the mausoleum now, and Ayesha's body was interred. Seth stood next to the wall, his hand upon the raised stone block inside which her coffin had been placed. It was dark, in stark contrast to the bright blue sky outside, and the blackness was broken only by a few sputtering candles.

Seth shivered. Despite the sunny weather, it was cold in the building. It needed to rain, he thought. It needed to be wet and stormy, weather to reflect how I feel. The funeral had been short, he and the Baronness and the staff of the Schloss in attendance. Words had been said, words that honored Ayesha, words forgotten when thinking of the cold form that lay in the coffin before him. In his other hand was a bouquet of roses, and Seth placed these on top of the block. For a long moment, he placed his hand on the black wood of the coffin.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered. "I'm so sorry...there were things that I needed to say, and I never did. If only I had. If only..." He paused to wipe his eyes.

"Maybe you wouldn't have cared, I know. I never really did know how you felt. I just guessed. I never expected for you to become so important to me. I missed my chance, maybe the chance of a lifetime. If only there were some way to bring you back." Seth shook his head. "Sure, I could walk to somewhere and you'd be there, your copy. But it wouldn't be the same.

"I love you. I always will, even if it turns out that you didn't feel the same way; I guess I'll never know. I'll miss you, Ayesha. I wish... I wish things could have been a lot different." Seth turned and ascended the short steps to the outside; two of the footmen would be in to seal the block, and Seth didn't want to be around when the coffin was covered. It was all he could do to remember Ayesha as she once was, and put the memory of her dead body out of his head. One thing he would always remember, though...inside the coffin, under the funerary dress, around her pretty neck, was a necklace upon which a coin depended. A lucky coin. His.

************

"Seth, we will need to talk later... in private," intoned Lazarus. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hooked his heels on the front edge of the wooden chair in which he sat.

His voice changed in tone a bit, grew even softer. "Perdi... there when..." Lazarus faltered, "there at the..." he tried yet again for the word. "When Ayesha died, she mentioned Perdi," he finally managed to say, his chin now resting on his knees and his eyes closed. His dark, un-tamed, hair hung over his pale face... hiding his expression.

"Who is Perdi?"

Seth, who had chosen at that moment to turn back to the bar, gave an eloquent shrug. "I've heard her say that, too. Maybe she's got another dog roaming out there in Shadow somewhere. There were a lot of things that I never had a chance to find out." He filled his glass with exaggerated care, as if he were trying not to show that his hands were shaking.

Opal watched at Seth at the bar for a long moment, her pale face showing a troubled concern. She swallowed.

Lazarus didn't move, he kept his face hidden. "Baronne? Can you shed some light on the Perdi that Ayesha spoke of?"

Then, as an afterthough, he added: "And, what about Old Virtue here" he indicated the mutt, "what exactly is he? Who does he belong to?"

"Perdi is another of our group," said the Baronne. "A Watcher, you might say, like Flaubon and I." Her wintry face suddenly relaxed into a smile. "And Virtue ... in his own way, he is a Watcher too. No powerful enough to train you - but able to provide some advice, some guidance, and some shielding."

The smile faded. "Ayesha made him. She had learned ... that skill. Shortly before she died.

"There are other skills however - one of which I will teach you before we have to leave this place. The songlines."

Morgan stood where he had started this round, leaning against a wall. His lips were flat with barely concealed impatience, but he watched. Then, as the discussion began, that impatience eased, and he listened. As Tobias spoke, his eyes flickered to Lynx. "Have a care. Just because one plant has left does not mean we are not in the presence of another. Although I will admit I prefer to know where they are. For now, though, let us leave them aside, and focus on this thief. If we are to survive, we must have our crystals, which means seeking him out and getting them back. To do that successfully, all the information we can gather about him will be useful. Do any know him at all? Know of him?"

Lynx, who had stood back when they entered, now raised her head and glared at Morgan.

"You are hateful!" she said in a low voice that throbbed with anger. "I have given up everything to help you - I gave her - " A long finger pointed accusingly at Opal, "my very own plantaxy to keep her safe in the Tomb ... and I betrayed my friends - the only friends I have ever had - like Oliver - to help you escape. And now you are accusing me of not even being human - of being a plant! I have risked my life and everything I have for you people ... and now you insult me!"

She turned away.

"If you're all so powerful ... send me away," she said. "Send me somewhere where the Lady will never find me. I wish I'd never seen you - any of you."

Morgan merely smiled coldly at her outburst. "I am hateful, yes. Full of hate for the one who betrayed me, when all I sought was to aid her. You are her, to all my senses, though you do not act like her. This is all that has kept you alive so far. When - and only when - I am convinced that you are no part of the one I knew, that her betrayal is not yours, then I will apologise for any distrust. But the convincing will be difficult, and should I ever be convinced that you are the one I knew, you die that very moment. Even if that means the others here choose to slay me in turn. I do not countenance betrayal."

Tobias's eyes flashed as he looked from the crying Lynx to Morgan.

"The only thing hurt was your own stupidity, Morgan." His voice became higher, and he adopted a feminine simper. "'Oh dear me, it seems I've lost my little Plantaxy! Could you be a big bad bully for me and go get the people who took it? You will?! You're a dear...'

"She may have to convince you to trust her, but Lynx, dear, he'd have a hard time convincing me to let him operate motor vehicles."

Morgan's eyes turned towards Tobias, glittering coldly. "There was much more to the story than that, sir. A great deal more. I will admit to being young - from what I have gathered, younger by decades than anyone else here. I do not, however, surrender my reason to the simperings of women, whatever the cause of their simperings. I found the girl in the company of a man who had been slain by the Hunter's captain. The man lived long enough to affirm the situation I saw, and ask my aid in protecting the girl, and retrieving what was stolen. I had no reason to doubt. Undoubtedly, those who have lived longer, seen more, might have done so. So be it. I, too, would now think otherwise, I feel certain. This does not change the fact that the girl did betray my trust. And proved sufficient an actress that I had no inkling of her true purpose throughout our travels. One so accomplished could, no doubt, take on another role with equal success. So I will not trust this one until I have proof positive that she is not the one who betrayed me, no matter how many tears she sheds. When that proof appears, then I will offer my apologies for the harsh words I offered an innocent, but I will not apologise for believing that she could be the same person."

"Well, then. I guess I must be the Lady then," Opal said softly into the room. "After all, you couldn't tell me from her in the courtyard. So I suggest you finish what you attempted there and kill me now." Her green eyes were fixed on Morgan as she sat there seemingly relaxed. "After all... I may really be the Lady," she purred, her voice changing timber to match that of the woman that had mocked them in chains...

Morgan looked at her coolly. "Ah, but there I have my proof. I saw the Lady show up, I saw her make your pretense false. I have no such proof with regard to this one. It matters not. You seem to want to trust her, and it is obvious I'll not sway you, so do what you will. Should she betray us, then before we die, I'll at least have the option of saying I told you. Should you be right, I will - as I have said three times, but no more - apologise for my harsh words. If reason were to prevail here, my doubts would not be looked upon as mean-spirited, but as simple caution."

"You're wrong," Opal said simply. "You only saw two women dressed at the Lady. But I know... there are many women who can seem to be the Lady. But how do you know when you've actually met her? The Lady would someday have green eyes if I'd became her chosen. Yes... how can you tell the real Lady?"

Morgan smiled coldly and shook his head. "I will not bandy words. Let us continue with whatever planning is actually intended here, so we can be gone quickly."

"Well then," Opal picked up her martini from the table in front of her. "I say there is no more reason to distrust Simon and Lynx than anyone else in this room. So spare us you deprecations of their characters so we may actually do this planning."

Opal turned to the Baronne, her expression softening. "I am sorry if I've given you away to the Auburnii. I did the best I could, and.. I am a woman of my word. I told the gentleman what he asked for in exchange for the plantaxy. Given everything else that had happened, it did not seem an unreasonable request."

"Don't worry, my dear," said the Baronne. "It is not what I would have wished but ... who knows how any of us would respond in suh a situation?"

She looked across at Lynx who still stood hard by the wall, crying quietly.

"As for you, my girl, if it is your wish to be hidden in Shadow, that can happen. But it may be that you will be able to serve a more useful function, and avenge those we have lost. All of us. You may not travel with Morgan if neither of you wish it. After you leave this place, I believe it will be best if you travel in smaller groups. To risk all of you again would not be prudent."

She looked at Morgan. "But nor should you travel alone - any of you. And our Watchers have been depleted by what has happened. Oland, Ayesha and Tissan are all lost. Other have been corrupted - one killed by Seth. And my travelling days are done."

Flaubon, at this, looked up at Opal. His face was still pale and beaded with sweat from the exertions of reading the crystal shard, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

"Miladi? You said you had brought back the black sand of that place ... the between place.

"Do you still have it?"

Opal jumped slightly as if startled, then nodded. "Yes..." She reached into a side pocket in her gown and pulled out a small dirty grey tied bundle. She handed the small improvised bag to Flaubon. "If it was black... who could tell in that light?"

"Indeed," said Flaubon thoughtfully. He stood up and walked up to the Baronne. "May I?" he asked, indicating a small occasional table that stood beside her. She made a gesture of assent, and he began to tip the improvised bag carefully, speaking as he did so.

"No-one else, to my knowledge, hase been able to bring anything back from that place. To most of us it seems insubstantial ... ghostly. Yet for you it had a clarity that ... oh fardles!"

For now the sand was falling from the small bag onto the table. Only it wasn't black - and it wasn't sand.

It was about thirty small plantaxy crystals ... smaller by far than their own - but larger than the one the Baronne wore in her ring.

Opal gasped as she saw the sparkling crystals. She jumped up from her chair, dropping the martini glass to the floor, and moved quickly to Flaubon's side. ".... Seed crystals?" she asked astonishedly. "Or did they start to combine together...." She reached out to gently touch one with a finger...

Lazarus let out a long slow whistle. "Wow..."

He straightened his legs, standing on his wooden chair and looking down at the crystals. "Now, that's the most interesting thing I've seen in some time. Think of the possibilities..."

Lazarus hopped down from the chair and moved to Opal's side. He didn't touch the crystals, but bent close to look at them. While there, he turned his head and whispered something into Opal's ear.

Opal listened, whispered something back, giving Lazarus a somewhat defiant look. Then she returned her attention to the crystals in front of them.

Lazarus reached out to run a single finger over the crystals, and in the silence his stomach growled.

Lazarus coughed and a slight flush came to his face, "Sorry about that." He snickered a little, "I guess I'm a little hungry."

He straightened and looked around the room, after spotting Virtue he snapped his finger to summon the mutt to him. Reluctantly, the white dog padded over to his feet.

"Hungry, boy?" Lazarus asked. Virtue wagged his tail in agreement.

Morgan's eyes went wide as he saw the crystals spill out of the bag. Not, as the othes, from the power they represented. Too young still in his understanding of that power, he did not have - could not have - the visceral reaction the others did. Nonetheless, react he did. "Some sand. Were some of us to help, could you bring back a boulder next time?"

Tobias gasped as the crystals scattered out onto the table, and he hazarded a step forward.

"Will they... will they grow? Into full Plantaxy? If so... that means we could all have one again... That does up our chances for survival..."

The glanced up at the Baronne, almost abashed. "I agree with the splitting up... Too many of us here is simply too convenient: vengeful one-stop shopping. I just... I'm not certain how we should split up, or where we'll go. Are there safe houses out there, like this one? Places we can get to, to touch base with you, or this... grouping?"

"Growing into plantaxy ... " Flaubon looked at the Baronne. She turned her head away, covering her mother with her hand.

"I think," said Flaubon, "crystalline development on that scale would be a slow progression. It might take fifty years to 'grow' your Plantaxy to such as size - if they will grow at all."

"There are no safe houses," said the Baronne. "Even Lohengrin will only be a temporary place of safety. But destinations ... we can discuss.

"These Plantaxy ... should be enough to enable you to shift Shadow. I would not attempt to hell-ride with one."

"But we will create safe resting places where we will meet from time to time. And I will teach you to access the songlines which will, in emergencies, give us a means of communication ...and escape."

She looked at Opal and smiled. "As you found."

"Yes," said Flaubon. He looked a little troubled. "Opal ... you used plantaxy to get to the Forgotten Place? Twice? Are you sure you didn't use my songline? At all?"

Opal looked up from the crystals, almost surprised at the question. "The third time, yes. The first time I was sync'ed with my plantaxy, trying to assist Lazarus from a distance with his. The second..." she nodded to the ring in his hand, "I mentally pushed into Lynx' Plantaxy." She nodded to Lynx. "You all felt me do it when you watched the crystal. I wasn't thinking of the tune at all. In fact..." Opal blushed slightly, looking away back to the crystals, "I didn't even remember the tune until I was hallucinating."

"That's impossible," began Flaubon.

The Baronne rose stiffly to her feet.

"We accomplish the impossible, Flaubon. Remember that. Besides - all this can be discussed over dinner."

She directed her wintery smile at Lazarus. "You, young man, look hungry. You may escort me." She looked round the room at those assembled and seemed to give a faint sigh. "We will not insist on precedence I think."

Lazarus smiled and offered the lady his arm. "Come on, Virtue," he called to the dog, "I promised you a treat."

With his free hand, Lazarus pushed his hair out of his face. He was so hungry, it hurt. Just the thought of food made his stomach growl again.

"Seth, dear boy, would you ask Simon to join us? And my young nephew, Robert? The wolf, I think, should remain outside ... he and Virtue might prove an unhappy juxtaposition ... "

Morgan's head almost whipped around towards her. "Wolf? Would his name be Mogadis? I traveled with one by that name before I ran into Tobias and Jenever. I was glad that he had not been with us at our capture, but I worried for him."

Seth nodded, put down his drink, and exited the library in the general direction of the rooms. "Simon? Robert?" he called...

As Seth exited the Library, Opal swiftly collected the scattered plantaxy on the table and tied them back up into the small scrape of fabric she'd previously carried them in. "If no one has an objection..." she scanned the room, "I'd prefer not to leave them lying around." She put the packet back into her gown pocket, then followed the Baronne and Lazarus out to the dining hall.

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