past Uske’s shoulder, pressed the button on the night table by the bed, and the curtains swept across the window. The hand went out as if it had been a flame.
“Now you keep still and be quiet.”
The pressure released and the King felt the bed give as the weight lifted. He held still for a moment. Then he whirled around. There wasn’t anyone there.
“Where do you keep your clothes, huh? You always were about my size.”
“Over there…there in that closet.”
The bodiless footprints padded over the fur rug, and the closet door opened. Hangers slid along the rack. The bureau at the back of the closet was opened. “This’ll do fine. I didn’t think I was ever going to get into decent clothes again. Just a second.”
There was the sound of tearing thread.
“This jacket will fit me all right, once I get these shoulder pads out of it.”
Something came out of the closet, dressed now: a human form, only without head or hands.
“Now that I’m decent, open up those curtains and throw some light around the place.” The standing suit of clothes waited. “Well, come on, open the curtains.”
Slowly Uske reached for the button. A freshly shaven young man with black hair stood in the sunlight, examining his cuffs. An open brocade jacket with metal-work filigree covered a white silk shirt that laced over a wide V-neck. The tight gray trousers were belted with a broad strip of black leather and fastened with a gold disk. The black boots, opened at the toe and the heel, were topped with similar disks. Jon Koshar looked around. “It’s good to be back.”
“Who…what are you?” whispered Uske.
“Loyal subject of the crown,” said Jon, “you squid-brained clam.”
Uske sputtered.
“Think back about five years to when you and I were in school together.”
A flicker of recognition showed in the blond face.
“You remember a kid who was a couple of years ahead of you, and got you out of a beating when the kids in the mechanics class were going to gang up on you because you’d smashed a high-frequency coil, on purpose. And remember you dared that same kid to break into the castle and steal the royal Herald from the throne room? In fact, you gave him the fire-blade to do it, too. Only that wasn’t mentioned in the trial. Did you also alert the guards that I was coming? I was never quite sure of that part.”
“Look…” began Uske. “You’re crazy.”
“I might have been a little crazy then. But five years out in the tetron mines has brought me pretty close to my senses.”
“You’re a murderer.…”
“It was in self-defense, and you know it. Those guards that converged on me weren’t kidding. I didn’t kill him on purpose. I just didn’t want to get my head seared off.”
“So you seared one of their heads off first. Jon Koshar, I think you’re crazy. What are you doing here anyway?”
“It would take too long to explain. But believe me, the last thing I came back for was to see you again.”
“So you come in, steal my clothing” Suddenly he laughed. “Oh, of course. I’m dreaming all this. How silly of me. I must be dreaming.”
Jon frowned.
Uske went on. “I must be feeling guilty about that whole business when we were kids. You keep on disappearing and appearing. You can’t possibly be more than a figment of my imagination. Koshar! The name! Of course. That’s the name of the people who are giving the party that I’m going to once I wake up. That’s the reason for the whole thing.”
“What party?” Jon demanded.
“Your father is giving it for your sister. Yes, that’s right. You had quite a pretty sister. I’m going back to sleep now. And when I wake up, you’re to be gone, do you understand? What a silly dream.”
“Just a moment. Why are you going?”
Uske snuggled his head into the pillow. “Apparently your father has managed to amass quite a fortune. Chargill says I have to treat him kindly so we can borrow money from him later on. Unless I’m dreaming that up too.”
“You’re not dreaming.”
Uske opened one eye, closed it again. And rolled over onto the pillow. “Tell that to my cousin, the Duchess of Petra. She was dragged all the way from her island estate to come to this thing. The only people who are getting out of it are mother and my kid brother. Lucky starfish.”
“Go back to sleep,” said Jon.
“Go away,” said Uske. He opened his eyes once more to see Jon push the button that pulled the curtains. And then the headless, handless figure went to the door and out. Uske shivered and pulled the covers up again.
* * * *
Jon walked down the hall.
Behind the door to one room that he did not enter, the red-headed Duchess of Petra was standing by the window of her apartment, gazing over the roofs of the city, the great houses of the wealthy merchants and manufacturers, over the hive-like buildings which housed the city’s doctors, clerks, secretaries, and storekeepers, down to the reeking clapboard and stone alleys of the Devil’s Pot.
The early sun lay flame in her hair and whitened her pale face. She pushed the window open a bit, and the breeze waved her blue robe as she absently fingered a smoky crystal set in a silver chain around her neck.
* * * *
Jon continued down the hall.
Three doors away, the old queen lay on the heap of over-stuffed mattresses, nestled in the center of an immense four-poster bed. Her white hair was coiled in two buns on either side of her head, her mouth was slightly open and a faint breath hissed across the white lips. On the wall above the bed hung the portrait of the late King Alsen, sceptered, official, and benevolent.
* * * *
In a set of rooms just beside the queen mother’s chamber, Let, Prince of the Royal Blood, Heir Apparent to the Empire of Toromon, and half a dozen more, was sitting in just his pajama top on the edge of his bed, knuckling his eyes.
The thin limbs of the thirteen-year-old were still slightly akimbo with natural awkwardness and sleep. Like his brother, he was blond and slight.
Still blinking, he slipped into his underwear and trousers, pausing a moment to check his watch. He fastened the three snaps on his shirt, turned to the palace intercom, and pressed a button.
“I overslept, Petra,” Let apologized. “Anyway, I’m up now.”
“You must learn to be on time. Remember, you are heir to the throne of Toromon. You mustn’t forget that.”
“Sometimes I wish I could,” replied Let. “Sometimes.”
