We feast on good cheer, with wine, ale, and beer,

Why me? The interests of the Heptite Guild are best served by your acceptance. A hint of desperation edged Trags voice. You object to the relationship between Lanzecki and me? She had no way of knowing in what way Trag had adapted to Ballybrans symbiont or in what way he expressed thought that such respect required additional outlets. If jealously prompted Trag to remove a rival No. Trags denial was accompanied by a ripple of his facial muscles. Up till now, he has not allowed personal consideration to interfere with his judgment. How has he done that? Killashandra was genuinely perplexed. Trag was not complaining that Lanzecki had awarded her another valuable assignment. He was perturbed because he hadnt. I dont follow you. Trag stared at her for such a long moment she wondered if the screen had malfunctioned. Even if you just go to Rani, it will not be far enough away or long enough. Lanzecki is long overdue for a field trip, Killashandra Ree. Because of you. Your body is so full of resonance hes been able to delay. But your resonance is not enough. If youre not available, he will be forced to cut crystal again and rejuvenate his body and his symbiont. If you have a real regard for the man, go. Now. Before its too late for him. Killashandra stared back at Trag, trying to absorb the various implications foremost was the realization that Lanzecki was genuinely attached to her. She felt a wave of exultation and tenderness that quite overwhelmed her for a moment. Shed never considered that possibility. Nor its corollary: that Lanzecki would be reluctant to cut crystal because he might forget his attachment. A man whod been in the Guild as long as he had would be subject to considerable memory loss in the Ranges. Had he learned his duties as Guild Master so thoroughly that the knowledge was as ingrained in him as the rules and regulations in a crystal-mad brain like Moksoons? It was not Lanzeckis face that suddenly dominated her thoughts, but the crisscross tracings of old crystal scars on his body, the inexplicable pain that occasionally darkened his eyes. Antonas cryptic admission about singers who could not break crystal thrall echoed in her head. She puzzled at the assortment of impressions and suddenly understood. She sagged against the back and arms of her chair for support. Dully she wondered if Trag and Antona had been in collusion. Would the subject of crystal thrall have come up at that lunch hour even if Rimbol had not arrived? There was little doubt in Killashandras mind that 55mm digital camera lens Antona knew of Lanzeckis circumstances. And she did doubt that the woman knew about their relationship. She also doubted that Trag would mention so personal an aspect of the Guild Masters business. Why couldnt Lanzecki have been just another singer, like herself? Why did he have to be Guild Master and far too valuable, too essential to be placed in jeopardy by unruly affection? Why, the situation has all the trappings of an operatic tragedy! A genuine one-solution tragedy, where hero and heroine both lose out. For she could now admit to herself that she was as deeply attached to Lanzecki as he was to her. She covered her face with both hands, clasping them to cheeks gone chill. She thought of Antonas advice, to put down everything including love Killashandra writhed in her chair. Antona couldnt have known that Killashandra would so shortly be faced with such an emotional decision. Which, Killashandra realized with a flicker of ironic amusement, was one to be as deeply and quickly interred and forgotten as possible. One thing was sure no matter how long the journey to Optheria, it wouldnt be long enough to forget all the wonderful moments she had enjoyed with Lanzecki the man. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain of encountering him when she returned, and, perhaps, finding no recollection of her in his dark eyes. Nor feel his lips again on her hand Killashandra? Trags voice recalled her to his watching presence on the viewscreen. Now that I know the ramifications of the assignment, Trag, I can hardly refuse it. Her flippant tone was belied by the tears rolling down her cheeks. Do you go with him to break the thrall? she asked when her throat opened enough to speak again. At any other time, she would have counted Trags startled look as a signal of victory. Maybe if she found someone to sing with, she would also find such a passionate and unswerving loyalty. She must remember that. Whens the next shuttle to Shanganagh, Trag? She rubbed her cheeks dry with an urgent impatience. Tell Lanzecki tell him crystal resonance drove me to it. As she spun off her chair, she heard herself give a laugh that verged on the hysterical. Thats no more than the truth, isnt it? Driven by the need just to do something, she began to cram clothes into her carisak. The shuttle leaves in ten minutes, Killashandra Ree. That s great. She struggled to secure the