Mouse and Dragon by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Page A

be—generous, but not so much as to seem overabundant. Those monies will be withdrawn from my private accounts."
    "As your lordship wishes." Mr. dea'Gauss made a note on his pad. "The final documents will be on your desk tomorrow morning."
    "Say rather on your desk," Daav said. "I have business in the city tomorrow and will come by your office—by midmorning?"
    "They will be ready for your signature," Mr. dea'Gauss assured him, making another note. "Is there any other service that I may be honored to perform for your lordship?"
    "In fact, there is. Please create the usual accounts for Aelliana Caylon, seeded by precisely half of my personal fortune, prior to deducting the Balance owed Pilot tel'Izak."
    The older man looked up from his notepad. "That is," he said carefully, "a lifemate's portion."
    "So it is," Daav said with more composure than he felt. He inclined his head. "The situation is delicate, Mr. dea'Gauss. The Healers at Chonselta Hall believe me to be Pilot Caylon's natural lifemate. Unfortunately, the pilot has suffered . . . an injury in the past, which may prevent the bond from ripening. It is my wish, however, to honor it—and her—as . . . fully as possible."
    Mr. dea'Gauss looked rather quickly down at his pad. "Of course, your lordship. One can readily apprehend your melant'i in the matter. Those papers, too, will be awaiting your signature tomorrow."
    "Thank you," Daav said softly. "Is there anything else which requires my attention, sir?"
    "We are to the end of my list, your lordship. I thank you for seeing me so quickly."
    "No, it is I who thank you, for your skill in husbanding Korval's resources. You should know, however, that Lady Kareen will be most disappointed."
    Mr. dea'Gauss paused in the act of slipping his notepad into its case. "I am of course desolate to have disappointed Lady Kareen. In what way have I erred?"
    "In no way that I can perceive," Daav said, already regretting his joke. Mr. dea'Gauss was not known for his sense of humor. "It only seemed that my sister was quite eager for the clan to be turned out onto the port, and the delm reduced to taking up employment as a pilot for hire."
    "Ah." Mr. dea'Gauss finished sealing the case and rose to his feet. "Your honored sister was not, of course, familiar with all of the particulars of the case. Korval's danger was . . . very small and, as your lordship sees, extremely easy to contain. Shall I call upon Lady Kareen and reassure her?"
    "That won't be necessary, Mr. dea'Gauss. You have done quite enough for us this day." He touched the pad on the edge of his desk. "Allow Mr. pel'Kana to show you out," he concluded.
    "Thank you, your lordship."
    * * *
    She unpacked her box, hanging her jacket, the white shirt, and blue trousers in the wardrobe, folding the new small clothes into a drawer, and draping the green robe over the foot of the bed. The remains of her old clothes, she left in the box, and tucked it into the bottom of the closet. The room swallowed her possessions without noticing them, and the rest of the apartment would do the same to her.
    She shook herself, and pushed the encroaching grimness away.
    Work was what she needed, she thought determinedly, and returned to the parlor.
    Sitting down at the desk, she woke the computer, and was very shortly engaged in bringing her working files over from Chonselta Tech.
    Having achieved that, she opened the most recent: a proof for pseudorandom tridimensional subspaces. But for once, mathematics—the elixir that had healed the damage her husband had inflicted; the magic that cast Ran Eld's constant cruelties momentarily into another time and place—mathematics failed her. Instead of the pure forms suggested by her equations, she heard Clonak's voice, so subdued. Surely, she thought, surely he had been weeping, and Aelliana Caylon, his student, his pilot, and his comrade, had been too dim-witted to ease him.
    "He wouldn't show me his face," she muttered, as for the dozenth time