Eidolon (3 page)

"Indeed Shadow, I would be grateful to, to
the Scout," she murmured.

The Scout stepped forward, her eyes as warm
as if she were approaching an old friend, and with no hint of
flinching away from the sight of Ceola's abused face.

"Please, let us be Tonith and Ceola, as I
see you are already on good terms with the Captain." She glanced
over her shoulder to Shadow. "Where may we be private?"

"Wherever Ceola wishes," he answered.

"Well, that's generous, own it!" Tonith said
merrily, slinging her kit over a shoulder and offering both hands
to Ceola. "Down from the heights with you, now!"

Ceola put her hands in the other woman's and
slipped off of the cold-box. She gasped as her feet hit the floor,
and found a friendly shoulder bracing her.

"A little ragged, is it, Ceola? We'll soon
have everything put right. But first you must tell me where you
would prefer to be private."

She thought with longing of her own room,
but the stairs--she did not wish to walk up the stairs
presently.

"There is the office . . ." she managed,
using her chin to point the way. "Just there."

"Perfect," Tonith proclaimed, and slid a
firm arm around her waist to help her walk the few steps that were
needful.

*

"I am going now," Ceola told Jas Per. "Do
you have everything needful?"

The big man--taller even than Shadow and
with a breadth of shoulder that surely meant there had been a
Terran at Festival--gave her a dour nod. "Everything in order,
mistress. Didn't you just go over it all yourself?"

She considered him, suspecting humor or
insubordination, but he was industriously racking the glasses, his
eyes downcast, his broad hands delicate and sure.

Well, and if he were
accustomed to the company of Scouts, then it could just as easily
be insubordination
and
humor, Ceola thought--and what matter, really? Jas Per worked
hard, and though he took most of heavy lifting to himself, he was
no mere port tough, dependent only on his fists. No, Ceola had
rapidly come to suspect that Jas Per was as deep as he was broad.
He exchanged effortlessly between currencies, scarcely glancing at
the 'change board over the bar, and he had at least three languages
ready to his tongue-- Liaden, Trade and Terran. Though he was not
so comprehensive a source of news as Shadow, or even Tonith, yet he
seemed to know the goings-ons of Port and city--all without
stirring outside The Friendly Glass.

Where he went after the bar closed, she did
not know, and he did not say. Shadow had brought him to her, on the
day after the till was taken, saying that the big man would "help
out." She began to protest--there was no extra money to pay
wages!--and had been silenced by a raised eyebrow and the quiet
information that she need not concern herself with Jas Per's wages
at the moment.

That had been five days ago. So short a
time; yet time for everything to change. The Scouts had speedily
found the men who had taken her till. They had made quite an
enterprise of the neighborhood, those two, having stolen also from
the grab-a-bite at the top of the street, and the trinket shop at
the bottom. Her money, alas, had not been found, though it could
have been worse. They had taken a full day's profits from the
grab-a-bite, and left the owner with a broken head, too.

Of Min, however, or of the dapper Captain
Elby, there was no news at all.

"Very well,"Ceola said, giving Jas Per a
crisp nod of the head. "I will be back in the second hour."

She said the same thing every day when she
left him. He must be very tired of hearing it, but to leave the
bar, their legacy from their mother, their wealth and their
lifeline, in the hands of non-kin--it was not easy for her. And
what if Min returned to find a stranger behind the counter?

Yet, if she tarried much longer, she would
be late for her assignation with Shadow, and their time
together--already much too short!--would be made even shorter by
her foolishness.

Ceola gave Jas Per one last nod,
deliberately turned her back and once again left her life in his
care.

Shadow came forward, smiling, his hands
extended.

"Am I late?"she asked, slipping her hands
into his, and smiling up into his face.

"Precisely on time," he assured her. "How
does Jasper go on?"

"I believe he has mastered the entire trade
and will soon release me to my own affairs. He greets the regulars
by name, and has their usual waiting before they even find a
stool."

Shadow frowned slightly. "That may land him
in trouble, should someone chose to vary of an evening."

"Perhaps it might, but the
chances are very slender that he would be caught by surprise. Just
last evening, he did
not
pour Hantem's ale out for her when she walked in
the door. He waited until she had seated herself at the bar and
called for wine, then poured with a generous hand. I asked him
later how he knew she would not want the usual, and he said, 'it
was in her walk.'" She looked up at her tall escort as they
strolled toward their private room.

"Now tell me truly, sir! Is he a Scout?"

"Jasper, a Scout? No, I fear not--though he
is a very skillful muscle-reader."

"Seriously, Shadow, he cannot continue to
work for--at the Glass, without wages, and I am in no wise to pay
him."

"Has there been no word yet from your
sister?" he asked

Ceola looked down at the burnished floor.
"I--no. Have you--have your searchers found nothing?"

"Alas, we have not, but you mustn't despair.
She may, after all, have gone off-world with her friend for a small
vacation."

It would, Ceola thought, be much like Min,
though she might have left word! Or perhaps not, considering what
else she had forgotten to tell her only kin.

"Tonith was by early today." she said
slowly. "You recall that she was kind enough to undertake a trace
of those transfers for me." She looked up, forcing herself to meet
bright green eyes. Shadow inclined his head, silently inviting her
to continue.

Ceola swallowed, for this--this was a wound,
a blow to honor that could not lightly be shared.

"The security company rep was correct--we
have not made our payment for the last three relumma. The money was
transferred, right enough, but it went to--another account. A . . .
private account." She cleared her throat. "In Min's name."

"Ah," he said softly.

Ah,
indeed
. Her sister had stolen from her--had
placed the one thing that stood between them and the Low Port in
jeopardy. Ceola did not know what to make of it, but it hurt,
bitterly.

"Will you hold line?"
Shadow asked her, and then-- "
Can
you hold line?"

"I will hold as long as I can, of course--I
must! The Glass is in Min's name, as eldest. Though how I will
manage without Jas Per I hardly know."

"There is no reason to manage without him
for some time yet," Shadow said, stepping back and allowing her to
proceed him into their room. "Nor will you fret over his wages.
There is a matter of Balance between he and I."

Inside the room, she turned to look up at
him. "But--"

"Hush,"he murmured, holding up a hand as the
door closed behind him. "No distractions from the outside world
enter this room, correct?"

That had been the mode from the beginning,
though how he supposed her able to think at all, once they--

She smiled up at him. "Correct,"she
said.

*

Some while later, she
pushed open the door to the Glass and strode inside, luxuriating in
a loose, effortless stride. As always after her time with Shadow,
she felt sparklingly
aware
, as if she had slept deeply,
instead of exercising profusely.

There was a good early crowd--that was the
first thing she noted as she moved toward the counter. The second
thing she noticed was Jas Per, tall and unusually subdued at the
center of the bar, as if standing sentinel. He caught her eye and
moved his head slightly to the right, even as he turned to answer a
call from one of the regulars.

Frowning, Ceola followed the direction of
his nod. A woman was draped on the endmost stool, sleek black hair
curling over one shoulder, her chin resting on one hand, while with
the other she toyed petulantly with a half-empty glass of the
red.

Ceola's stomach sank, which
must be wrong. Surely, she thought, forcing herself to continue
walking brisk and business-like toward the bar,
surely
she should rejoice to again
meet absent kin?

Well, and if her stomach was a fool, at
least her head knew what was owed to family.

"Min," she said, softly, upon arriving at
her sister's side. "Sister, welcome home; I had been worried, with
you gone so long, and no word."

Angry brown eyes met hers, and a shapely arm
flung out, pointing.

"
What
is that?" she snapped, heedless
of customers within hearing distance of clan business.

Ceola blinked. "Jas Per,"she said softly.
"He has been helping me keep the bar. I depend upon him a great
deal," she added, only then realizing that it was so; "and can
scarcely think how I'd go on without him."

"Oh, indeed!" Min made no effort to moderate
her voice, which was made sharper by the edge of sarcasm. "And here
I thought it was Shadow you had in your eye. Well! If you care for
misshapen Low Porters..."

Ceola gasped, and leaned forward, her hand
perhaps a bit too heavy on her sister's arm.

"Min," she said quietly, "will you shout
such things into the ears of our customers, some of whom value Jas
Per high?"

For a moment, she thought that Min would
continue--and what course stood open to her, Ceola thought, if that
came to pass? Surely, she could not ask Jas Per to escort her own
sister to the door, like a grease ape in his cups?

Fortunately, it did not come to that. Min
slid to her feet and moved toward the back alcove, her uncertain
stride speaking of more than one glass of the house red.

She spun unsteadily and leaned against the
back wall of the tiny office, crossing her arms over her breast;
her face set and hard.

"Why is that abomination working behind my
counter?" she asked, her voice high and ugly.

Ceola considered her, and took a deliberate
breath. Centering herself, Shadow called it.

"He is here because we were robbed," she
said.

Min's face lost some of its rich color.
"Robbed?" she repeated. "How much was in the till?"

"Only the 'change money," Ceola told her,
keeping her voice even. Gods, had it always been this difficult to
speak soft? "However, the security company would not come, on
account of non-payment, and I . . . took some minor harm because of
it."

Min shook her hair back. "Non-payment! Those
deposits went out! Check the ledgers."

Ceola felt herself settle into the
ready-pose--her weight balanced over her knees, shoulders firm,
chin up.

"Do not trouble yourself," she said, and her
voice was so cold her skin pebbled. "I've traced the pathway that
money traveled, sister. The deposits went out, right enough, and
into your private account."

Min tipped her head. "That was clever work,"
she commented, without a trace of shame. She tossed her hair again.
"But, let us not brangle! I have come to bring you to a meeting,
and you have very nearly made us late."

Ceola blinked. "A meeting? I can't leave the
bar now!"

"Why not? Surely your charming Jas Per can
handle the custom."

"Min, I am not leaving the
bar for a
meeting
.
Do you mean to stay here?"

"I do
not
mean to stay here!"her sister
snapped.

"Then give me your direction. I will come to
see you tomorrow during Day Port."

"You will do as you are instructed by the
eldest of your House," Min spat, and snapped forward, her hand
whipping toward Ceola's face.

She was tipsy with the wine she had drunk,
and angry besides. It was no trick at all to catch her wrist, and
hold it--tightly.

"Release me, you wretched brat!"

"And be struck in the face? I think
not."

Min took a hard breath, lashes fluttering,
and looked Ceola in the eye. "Sister, I beg your pardon," she said,
sweet and low. "My last few days have been an adventure, and my
temper is perhaps not what it should be. Truly, it is imperative
that you come with me to a very short meeting, quite nearby. I
won't keep you from your duty above an hour. You know I would not
ask it of you, if it were not important."

It was everything that was gentle, and
surely it should have melted a heart of adamantine--had that heart
not been mated to eyes which had observed this very behavior many,
many times in the past. This was Min, playing every trick to her
hand, in order to get her own way.

Ceola saw a movement from the corner of her
eye, and looked to see Jas Per, peering worriedly 'round the door
frame.

"Is all well, mistress?" he asked.

Easy words rose to her tongue; assurances
that all was well, a mere misunderstanding between kin. On the edge
of speaking them, Ceola pressed her lips tight.

When she opened them again, three long
heartbeats later, it was to speak words that were . . . infinitely
. . . more difficult.

"Please escort my sister out, Jas Per," she
said and each word tore painfully at her throat. "I will cover the
counter."

"Yes, mistress," he said expressionlessly,
and stepped in to take Min's arm.

*