For a long beat Thrr-pifix-a stared at him, replaying that sentence over and over again in her mind. "You're not serious," she said at last. "You mean... steal my fsss organ?"
"Why not?" Dornt shrugged. "You tried to do the same thing just three fullarcs ago, didn't you?"
"Yes, but that was me," Thrr-pifix-a said. "My risk, for my gain. I can't ask you to commit such a crime for me."
"You don't have to ask," Dornt said. "We're volunteering."
"Besides, you prejudice yourself when you use the word steal," Korthe added. "In actual fact your fsss was stolen from you, back when you were ten. It doesn't belong to the Kee'rr clan or the Thrr family. It belongs to you."
Thrr-pifix-a felt her tail twitching nervously. The same argument—many of the same words, in fact—that she'd used in trying to persuade Thrr-gilag to her point of view a few fullarcs ago. But to hear it being argued in her own home by total strangers was more than a little disconcerting. "What about the risks?" she asked. "I'm sorry to keep coming back to this, but you're talking about committing a major crime here. And for no gain for yourselves."
"On the contrary," Korthe said. "We stand to gain a great deaclass="underline" an incredible measure of freedom for all Zhirrzh. The family and clan leaders know perfectly well what they're doing—why else would they have such heavy guard around the shrines? It's the common people who don't know or don't understand what's been done to them. Every time we of FoDfA take action like this, we're injecting another tiny bit of awareness into Zhirrzh culture. Eventually, we'll prevail... and then we all win."
Thrr-pifix-a nodded slowly. It still felt odd. All of it did. But they were here, and they were offering their help.
And it was for certain that she would never be able to do it on her own. "How would you go about it?" she asked. "How exactly, I mean."
"That's nothing you need to worry about," Dornt soothed her. "We'll handle all the details."
"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.