Dairine, hostile-eyed, watched Nita coming as the man walked around the side of the “star” toward them. Nita paused and waited for him to approach.
His walk was easy and graceful, but his expression suggested that the outer calm concealed a tremendous tension. Nita found herself being examined by very immediate green eyes, shadowed under heavy brows. The Wellakhit’s face was a sharp one, high-cheekboned, eyes slanted, so that it was easy to get the impression of some cool and thoughtful predator looking at you. As he got closer, Nita picked up on something else: a sense of sheer power that transmitted itself right across the empty air. She concentrated on hanging on to her composure as he came, for she’d never felt anything quite like this before from a being who worked with wizardry and was also mortal. Most immortals spend a lot of effort covering up their power, she thought, so we ephemerals won’t get too freaked. And mortal wizards don’t flaunt their power: it’s rude.
But this wizard possibly had reasons for handling his aura differently. On Wellakh, where there were relatively few wizards, Nelaid ke Seriv was very senior indeed: if not actually the Planetary—for some worlds had none—then the next thing to it on Wellakh, a person of crucial importance to the planet’s well-being and a power to be reckoned with. Which is probably why it annoys him so much that some of his people keep trying to assassinate him. And why he walks around with his aura hanging out, so anybody in range gets reminded what they’re in for if they cross him.
As he came, Nita’s eyes went back to that flaming hair of his. It wasn’t just almost the same shade as Dairine’s: it was exactly the same shade. That is beyond strange! And at the back of Nita’s mind, the thought stirred that, in a wizard’s world, there were no coincidences. When something looked like a connection, it was smart for you to pay attention—
Later. When she judged that Nelaid was close enough, Nita executed the half bow that she’d found worked well with most bipedal humanoid species. “Senior,” Nita said, having considered which of ten or twenty terms of address would be most correct, “in the Powers’ names, and on Their behalf, greetings from another jurisdiction.”
“Young cousin,” he said, a response correct if not precisely comradely, “in Their names, and on Their business as always, welcome.”
“What are you doing here?” Dairine said.
Nita didn’t even spare Dairine a glance. Protocol dictated otherwise: you always greeted and briefed the most senior wizard first. This also left Nita with a perfect way to outflank Dairine’s temper. “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt whatever’s going on, but we have a family situation that in my judgment overrides what my manual indicates is an elective exercise on my sister’s part. With your permission—”
Nelaid nodded, a gracious gesture of agreement, and turned away as if to examine the star-simulation. Nita went over to Dairine. Under her breath she said, “You look like a Jedi knight who lost the bathrobe’s belt.”
Dairine rolled her eyes. “I live for your fashion bulletins.”
“Your continued life is just what we’re talking about. Your home life, at least. Dad wants you back there right now.”
“You came all the way here to tell me that? Well, you can just go right back, thanks.”
The dismissive, cutting tone made Nita flush hot. As she opened her mouth, “Your pardon,” Nelaid said, “but a matter has arisen that requires my intervention. If I may be excused—”
Surprised by the very status-neutral language, Nita caught the oddest look from Nelaid, a slight narrowing of the eyes. Then he vanished without so much as a breath of wind, the effortless displacement of a wizard who had long since perfected the art of teleporting in or out without anyone being the wiser. Especially whoever’s trying to murder him this afternoon…
Nita turned back to Dairine. “What exactly are you doing?”
“Practicing. Or I was until you butted in.” Dairine turned away.
“Practicing what?”
Shrugging out of her overrobe, Dairine glared at Nita. “Messing with the energy management of a live star,” she said. “What are you, obtuse?”
She’s trying to get me mad, Nita thought, and that’ll be her excuse to blow me off. “Cruel question for someone you know hates geometry,” Nita said.
Her sister’s mouth quirked as she folded up the robe. Nita kept her own face still. “Dair, you ditched school.”
“Like everybody else wasn’t ditching it today,” Dairine muttered, turning away. “Like it’s such a big deal. Some schools are more important than others.”
“Won’t argue,” Nita said. “But you and Dad had an agreement. If you’d let him know what you were going to do first, you might have been in less trouble than you are now. Now you’ve got a mess to clean up. The least you can do,” Nita said as Dairine opened her mouth to say something angry, “is let me help you get out of it so you can get on with business.”
Dairine paused. “What?”
Nita laughed, thinking, This is the way to go, keep her off balance! “You think I enjoy watching you get in trouble? There’s nothing in it for me. And it screws up my schedule. Let’s keep this brief so we can both get back to what we were doing, okay?”
Dairine stared, caught between bemusement and suspicion. “Are you all right?” she said. “Have you flunked something?”
“No! This isn’t about anything but me helping you cover your butt, because it looks like you could use some help with that right now.”
Dairine scowled, but now at least the scowl suggested that they might be on the same side of the argument. “All right, how?”
“We’re going to bug your manual,” Nita said.
Dairine’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no you are not!” she said. “Nobody but me messes with Spot!”
“Of course somebody does!” Nita said. “All the time. Wizardry messes with Spot every second of the day.”
Dairine gave her a strange look.
“All Dad wants is to know where you are, and that you’re okay,” Nita said. “There are two ways that can happen. He can make me run after you constantly and report in on everything you do. I mean everything. If he doesn’t like something you’re up to, I’ll have to haul you out of it… which is probably going to make us kill each other by the end of the summer. You’ll be sick and tired of me butting in on you every five minutes, yeah?”
“Yeah—”
“And I’ll want you dead because having to keep tabs on you will ruin my schedule and drive me berserk. Since killing each other would get the Powers That Be cranky with us, let’s try something else. Remember the translation spinoff we arranged with Tom last month, so Dad would have access to the manual info about Filif and Sker’ret and Roshaun when they came to visit?”
Dairine nodded, but couldn’t cover the wince of pain on hearing Roshaun’s name. Nita pretended she hadn’t noticed. “We’ll do the same deal,” Nita said, “but instead we’ll hook the output from your daily manual precís into it. Dad can read it on the computer, or even his cell phone.”
“He won’t understand half of it,” Dairine said, scowling.
“Not my problem,” Nita said. “You get to explain stuff to him when you get home every day. He’ll calm down even more when you’re telling him about what you’re doing.”
“It’s gonna be a nuisance,” Dairine said.
“Not as much a nuisance as being grounded.”
Dairine grinned. “Like he could.”
“He couldn’t. But Tom could.” The amusement fell out of Dairine’s expression. “You know he and Dad talk every few days! One word from Dad to Tom, and unless you’re officially on errantry, your butt’s going to be stuck on Earth till the two of them agree otherwise.” Dairine opened her mouth. “And the Powers That Be wouldn’t countermand Tom unless there was something big going on! Till we hit the local legal age, They’re mostly on Dad’s side.”