This was one of Arienrhod’s secrets, hidden from the room beyond behind what appeared to be an imported mural. Arienrhod had had observation points all through the palace, so that she could watch anyone she chose, whenever she wanted to. That had been one of her tricks, to hide like this, living a lie, betraying herself and whatever unsuspecting person she observed.
But— She turned back again, unable to help herself. She needed to see him, she needed this time… . She could not keep her public mask of calm indifference perfectly in place, unless she first took this secret moment alone to gaze at him. He had come early to this meeting, not waiting for any of his own people; arriving even before any of hers should have been here. He had come early; she was sure that he had done it for one reason, and that it was not Fate Ravenglass he had been looking for… .
Three other people entered the room—all members of her Council. Fate and BZ turned away, and she could no longer see his face. She pressed her hand against the window, wondering how long it would be before she no longer felt this piercing urgency, this desperate need for even the sight of him. She had never expected to feel this way; not after so many years. But when she had seen him again—and realized that she had seen his face every day through the long years of their separation, in the face of her son … his son…
She bit her lips. Had that been the reason he had been in her thoughts so often, for so long? Or had it really been the memory of the one night they had spent together? Perhaps it was only because she could never resolve them that her feelings for him obsessed her so, now that he had come back. For the sake of her marriage, her children, her world’s future… herself, she must not weaken; must never meet with him unless they were not alone, until she was certain that she could control her emotions completely….
She turned away from the window, the spell broken as more people, offworlders now, arrived for the meeting in the room beyond. She started back toward the hidden doorway; stopped suddenly, as her husband blocked her path. “Sparks—”
His gaze flicked past her, to what lay beyond the windows; lingered there, for an endless moment, before it came back to her face. She felt her face redden under his stare; unable to speak, to answer the accusation in his eyes, because there was no possible excuse she could make for what she had been doing here, when the truth was so obvious.
“Why bother with this?” he said, in disgust. “Have him for a lover, if after twenty years you still find him so irresistible.”
“I don’t want him—”
“Then what do you want? You don’t seem to want me.” His hand struck his chest, hard. “For twenty years I’ve been trying to win you back, your love, your respect; running after you, begging you for every touch, every bit of proof that you still cared. And all the time you just kept getting further and further away from me… .”He shook his head. “All that time, you were still in love with a memory. I always suspected it. But I could live with it, as long as that was all he was—” His hand jerked at the window. “I can’t live with this. Seeing him. Seeing how you look at him … Seeing the truth: Even Ariele and Tammis aren’t mine. They’re his!”
He turned away from her, and she felt her face convulse with pain. “That’s not true. They’ve always been your children! I’ve always been your wife. I love you—”
He turned back, his eyes burning. “Do you think I’m blind? Stupid? They’re not my children! And you’re not my wife—not in any way that means anything.” His anger turned to ashes. “I can’t take it. Do whatever you want … just don’t lie to me about it anymore.” He turned and left her without a backward glance.
She stood alone, unable to move, as if she had been turned to stone, until she could no longer hear his footsteps.
She moved again at last, taking in a long, tremulous breath. She looked away from the empty corridor toward the hidden window; saw the faces beyond it looking toward her as if they could see her. She realized that the sound of arguing voices had carried into the meeting hall. But they were already turning away again, their expressions uncertain. She wondered how much they had actually heard.
She clenched her fists until her hands spasmed; released them again, her fingers white and cold, as she made her way back out of the hidden space. She entered the large chamber beyond, where a dozen people waited for her now, waiting to begin a meeting that would shape the future of her world. She saw BZ’s eyes on her; resisted meeting them. She wondered how she would get through this next hour, this next day; where she would find the strength she needed to be the Queen, and not a woman. In her mind she pictured the mask of the Summer Queen that Fate Ravenglass had placed on her head one fateful day, half a lifetime ago. She built an image of its serenity and calm, superimposing them on her own features as she walked toward the expectant representatives of the old and new.
TIAMAT: Carbuncle
“Oh, Tor, this is off the scale! I can’t believe it—” Ariele Dawntreader draped her sinuous, slender form across the transparent table surface, looking down into the depths below her. She clattered as she moved, wearing a bodystocking covered with tiny, glittering silver plates. “Is this exactly what your club was like before the Change—?” Around her, the voices of her friends made a song of delight. It was opening night at Starhiker’s, the first offworlder-style gaming club to open, or reopen, in the Maze.
Tor had bought up the remnants of club technology wherever she could find it, used or abused, buried in storage around the city; had everything refitted and all their burned-out entrails repaired with suddenly available microprocessor replacement parts. With the Queen’s blessing, she had gotten in ahead of all the offworlder entrepreneurs who had been clamoring at the palace gates, and down in Blue Alley, petitioning the onworld and offworld governments for permission to start filling half-empty buildings of the Maze with stores and places of entertainment. The new Chief Justice had kept a chokehold on the influx of offworlders and their technotoys, the changes that her own people awaited with what seemed to be equal parts eagerness and dread. So far, tradespeople and technicians were given heavy preference over those in less functional occupations.
Ariele felt only the eagerness and awe, not understanding why anyone, including her mother, could feel any other way about the dazzling possibilities of their changing city. She had lived all her life with a hunger for these wonders, never realizing until they actually began to appear what it was she had been hungry for.
“Glad you like it, sweeting.” Tor reached across the table top, patted her cheek fondly with a jewel-gloved hand. “Enjoy yourself, it’s on the house tonight for you and your friends. But this is only a pale imitation of what my old place was like. The difference is that it’s my place, this time…. Wait till the technology really begins to flow—this place will turn your eyeballs inside out. The Maze … gods, I never thought I’d live to see it come alive again!” She shook her head, her gray-shot hair scintillating, netted in silver.
Ariele looked at her, feeling another kind of wonder; feeling as if she had never really seen Tor Starhiker before, although she had known her forever… that she was seeing Tor now in her element, where she had always belonged. She hoped she would have that kind of light in her own eyes when, after some inconceivable length of time, she was as old as Tor was now.
“Ye gods, Ariele—” Tor straightened suddenly, peering back at her as she passed a round of drinks and gaming pieces into the waiting hands of her friends. “What happened to your hair—?”