"No, that's not what I meant," Thrr-pifix-a said, flicking her tongue in a negative. "I meant would you have to hurt anyone to do it. Because I wouldn't be able to accept that. The chief protector at our shrine, Thrr-tulkoj, is a personal friend of my son's—"
"Now, what did Dornt just say?" Korthe said, his tone mildly reproving. "Didn't he say you didn't need to worry about such things?"
"I'll worry about whatever I choose to worry about, thank you," Thrr-pifix-a snapped. "And unless you can promise me right now that there'll be no danger to the shrine's protectors, you can just pack up and leave."
"Please," Korthe said, holding up a hand. "Thrr-pifix-a; please. We understand your concerns, but you protest far more than necessary. Of course we'll guarantee that no one will be hurt. Our whole philosophy of respect for the rights and dignity of individual Zhirrzh would be meaningless if we didn't."
"If you're assured of nothing else this postmidarc, be assured of that," Dornt added earnestly. "When we bring your fsss to you, it will not be at any cost to anyone else."
"I'll hold you to that," Thrr-pifix-a warned.
"Of course," Korthe said. "Then it's decided."
And suddenly Thrr-pifix-a realized that it was. Somehow, without her making a real conscious decision, it was indeed decided. "All right," she said, hearing the defiance of uncertainty in her voice. "Yes. It's decided. When?"
"Next latearc," Korthe said, gesturing to Dornt and standing up. "We can let ourselves out."
"Wait a beat," Thrr-pifix-a frowned as Dornt also stood. "Next latearc? As in just over a fullarc from right now?"
"I see no advantage in waiting," Korthe said. "Do you?"
"Well... no. No, I suppose not," Thrr-pifix-a conceded reluctantly. "It just seems so sudden."
"Suddenness is a great ally," Dornt said. "Especially against the sluggishness of a layered leadership structure."
"But I was just caught trying to take it myself," Thrr-pifix-a pointed out. "Won't they be expecting me to try again?"
"They might be expecting you," Dornt said, smiling faintly. "They certainly won't be expecting us."
Thrr-pifix-a swallowed. "And no one will be hurt?"
"There will be no need for violence of any sort," Dornt said quietly. "Trust us on that. We have many methods, and many contacts."
"It'll be all right, Thrr-pifix-a," Korthe added. "Really it will. Please try not to worry. We'll be back before you know it."
His face turned serious. "And then your future will be in your hands, and in your hands alone. As it should be."
They left... and for a long time after the door closed behind them, Thrr-pifix-a just sat there in her small conversation room. Wondering if her decision, so quickly and strangely made, had been the right one.
16
Thrr-gilag took a deep breath, savoring the sharp-salty air as he gazed past the sea rock and tried to guess which of those incoming lines of white-capped wave fronts would be the next spectacular splash. And tried not to think of what might be happening, without him, back there in the Klnn family hall.
"Composing poetry?" a familiar voice called from behind him.
Thrr-gilag turned. Dressed in full formal Klnn family attire, Klnn-dawan-a's brother Klnn-torun was making his careful and precise way across the last few strides of rock-strewn beach that separated them. "What makes you think I'd be composing poetry?" Thrr-gilag called back over the roar of the waves.
"I thought you were the sort of person who might do that sort of thing," Klnn-torun said. "Especially standing here looking out at the ocean."
"Typical Klnn smugness," Thrr-gilag said. "What makes you think the hills and streams of the Thrr family territory can't compare with this puny ocean of yours?"
Klnn-torun frowned slightly. "Can they?"
Thrr-gilag smiled, flicking his tongue in a negative. "Not a chance."
"Ah." Klnn-torun's face cleared. "I didn't think so. You had me worried, though."
Thrr-gilag looked back at the sea rock, just in time to catch a minor wave splash at its edge. "How about you?" he asked. "You ever write poetry about the ocean?"
"Not really," Klnn-torun said. "I tried a few times, back when I was younger. But I could never come up with anything that sounded any good. I guess my mind just doesn't work that way."
Thrr-gilag shrugged. "To tell you the truth, neither does mine."
"Oh, come on." Klnn-torun frowned. "What about those three poems you wrote for Klnn-dawan-a right after you two met?"
Thrr-gilag eyed him suspiciously. "She didn't let you see those, did she?"
"Oh, no, she just read me some of the highlights," Klnn-torun assured him. "Really, I thought they were very good. Smooth and quite poetic."
"I'm glad I fooled you," Thrr-gilag said, snorting gently. "Truth is, I sweated blood over those things and still never really got them the way I wanted. I'm just glad they caught her attention before I had to write too many more of them. I'm still half-convinced she started seeing me out of sheer pity."
"Hardly," Klnn-torun said with a faint smile. "No, she was most impressed by them. And by you, too, of course."
"Not half as impressed as I was of her," Thrr-gilag murmured, looking over his shoulder. The Klnn family meeting hall towered back there behind him, its rock-faced walls blending almost seamlessly with the bluff on which it had been built. Klnn-dawan-a was up there right now, standing before the family and clan leaders. Trying to win them over the way she had won over her brother and parents.
And trying to do so all alone. They hadn't allowed Thrr-gilag in; nor had they allowed Klnn-torun or her parents or any of her closest friends to stand with her. There was nothing any of them could do but sit in the waiting gallery or wander around outside, wondering what was happening in the chambers and waiting for the family leaders to summon them back in. The whole stupid, outdated single-trial procedure—
"I heard about your father's being raised to Eldership half a cyclic ago," Klnn-torun said. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend his welcoming ceremony. We were right in the middle of a sudden influx of shahbba beetles, and we needed everyone we had to drive them off."
"That's all right," Thrr-gilag said, feeling a fresh twist of old guilt. "As it happens, I didn't make it, either. I was out on an archaeology dig when it happened, and with our extremely limited transportation arrangements I just wasn't able to get back."
"Yes, Klnn-dawan-a once missed an uncle's ceremony the same way," Klnn-torun said. "How's Thrr't-rokik adapting to life as an Elder?"
"Reasonably well, I think," Thrr-gilag said. He nodded toward the ocean. "Though his biggest goal these fullarcs seems to be to try to get a shrine set up near the Amt'bri River so that he can hear running water. Imagine what he'd want if he saw this."
"I don't have to imagine," Klnn-torun said grimly. "The Dhaa'rr leaders are already up to their tongues in demands to allow cutting pyramids along the seashore."
"Really," Thrr-gilag said, looking around. Aside from the Klnn family hall, there were only a handful of other buildings visible. "I guess I'm surprised it isn't a solid wall of shrines already."
"Actually, you'd never get shrines themselves put up here," Klnn-torun told him. "Salt air has always been considered too dangerous to fsss organs for anyone to risk putting an actual shrine near the shore."
"Ah," Thrr-gilag said, nodding his understanding. "But that's not such a problem when all you're dealing with is cuttings."
"Right," Klnn-torun said. "And the more this cutting idea has caught on, the louder the demands have become."
Thrr-gilag looked back at the ocean. "Well, at least here on Dharanv you have a whole planet's worth of territory to spread out over. Those of us whose clan centers are still crammed together on Oaccanv don't have that same advantage."