by Sharon Lee
“Take the card, child. I’ve no doubt you’ll find it as dangerous as you find it useful. Balance in all things is the way of the world.” She thrust the card at him and perforce he took it, glancing down at the words: “The man who carries this is my emissary. Portal, Dyan Circle.”
He looked at her. “I am free to go?”
“Presently,” she said, frowning up at him. “You have brought me good coin, Master Lute. You must not think me ungrateful, though I give you dubious fortune in return. Why did your master wish an apprentice?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “All masters wish an apprentice, Mother. It is one’s duty, to pass on knowledge. And it is a way to keep one’s own skills sharp, for there is nothing so challenging as to teach.” He smiled. “So my master taught me.”
“A wise man, your master. His name?”
“Cereus, who made his return to the Goddess six years ago.”
“Blessed his memory. Have you an apprentice, Master Lute?”
“No one likely has come my way. Doubtless, when I have need, the Goddess will provide.”
“Doubtless.” She shuffled the cards again, fanned them. “Lady Moonhawk, draw a card.”
The blue eyes flashed, startled. Then she extended a slender hand, pulled a card free and turned it up.
“The High Priestess.” Mother Portal sighed, folded the deck and pulled from her robe a silver string with which she bound the incomplete tarot.
“Lady Rowan, there are several decks being made for me. Inform the cardmaker I will chose from those completed at full Moon. These shall stay always with me.
“Lady Moonhawk, the time has come for you to leave Circle. Master Lute, the Goddess, as you had predicted, has provided you with an apprentice. I hope you will not find her hopelessly stupid, though I must tell you that she has spent all her days within these walls.”
Lute stared at her, the card held loose between his fingers. “Mother, I do not understand.”
“You relieve me. Suffice that you are my emissary and this is your apprentice. Return here in a year, I think, and do then as you think best.”
“Mother, you cannot send one of the Inner Circle to travel the world with a—magician! It—”
“Oh,” said Mother Portal, turning quick on her heel, “can I not? And what else, Lady Rowan, may I not do within the Temple where I am High Priestess?”
Lady Rowan’s face had gone white and Portal nodded, sparing one last glance at Lute. “Take your apprentice and go, child. Now!”
The command voice, yet again. But this time he had no mind to resist it. He vanished the card, bent and caught up his bag, pushed past a gaping Feldris and swept his cloak from the hook by the door.
He was five strides down the hallway when he realized that Moonhawk was right beside him.
Quick Working Glossary
cantra—A Liaden coin. By Terran standards, a cantra piece represents quite a lot of money. Other coins are tenth-cantra pieces and (at least according to King of the Cats) twelve-cantra pieces, which, given the worth of an ordinary cantra, ought to buy quite a bit more real estate than a mere hyatt. Say, a star system. Cantra pieces, by the way, are named after Cantra yos’Phelium, who . . . “lives inside,” as the authors say, Crystal Soldier and Crystal Dragon.
delm—The head of a clan. In theory, the delm is the embodiment of the clan, and as such deals for the clan entire, and also for the individual clan members. The Delm’s Word is law to members of their clan; there is no higher authority to whom one can appeal.
melant’i—Terrans frequently misunderstand this to mean “honor.” While honor is certainly part of the equation, as Liadens believe that everyone should behave “honorably,” melant’i is much more. A person may, for instance, be variously a pilot, a mother, a lover, and a delm. Each role carries its own responsibilities and abilities. It is therefore crucially important to know from which melant’i a Liaden is acting at any given time. A delm acting for the clan is a much more fearsome thing than a pilot acting for her ship. The Terrans who get this sometimes refer back to the old Terran concept of “hats,” used to describe the busy person who performs many tasks. To make matters even more complex, melant’i also equates with “face” or “reputation.” It is said among Liadens that a rich man who has squandered his melant’i is a beggar, indeed. It’s also worth noting that mainstream Liadens (by which we mean, those who are neither Scouts nor of Korval) consider that Terrans in general “have no melant’i.” This is not a compliment.
nadelm—The delm-in-waiting.
qe’andra—Another tricky concept. Terrans consider the qe’andra to be accountants, and it’s true that a good many of their duties have to do with finances, investments, and just plain money. However, Liaden culture has elevated contracts to an art form, and the qe’andra are also those professionals who write, vet, and, when needed, interpret contracts.
relumma—A quarter of a Liaden year. Clan shares are typically paid on the first of each relumma, thus “quartershare.”
vingtai—This is an Yxtrang word; it means “tattoos.” Specifically the tattoos on the face, which designate such things as rank, troop, and honors.
For a more complete dictionary, list of character names, and all sorts of other interesting stuff, see the, Liaden Universe® wiki at: http://liaden.wikia.com/wiki/Liaden_Wiki.
