It had been a more comfortable rest than the last couple he'd had, Captain Pausert had to admit. The Sprites were treating them rather like royalty, even if Hantis said that they would still have to appear in the Hall of Stars before High Lord Arvin in the Seat of Judgment the next morning. Arvin was recovering from the immense amount of klatha energy he'd expended. If Hantis was right, he was also preparing to attack and destroy the neighboring principality, as part of saving his species and the galaxy from the Nanite plague
That was all very well, but the captain wanted to get back to saving his own species and the galaxy from the same plague—three thousand years from now. It was of course logical that it had to be saved earlier, in order to have it around to save later, but Arvin seemed to have the matter in hand. He was doing just fine, and didn't need them at all, other than some advice from Hantis and the loan of Pul as a stud. But Pausert was no nearer to solving his own problem of how to get them back. The vatch was still around, but it was keeping its distance.
The Hall of Stars was just as full as it had been the last time they had been there. And once again they were in the gallery reserved for the accused. But this time they were respectfully ushered into it.
"It's mostly a formality," said Hantis, with slight unease. "It was all something of a misunderstanding."
"But you did call the High Lord names," pointed out the Leewit, a bit self-righteously. "You punched him in the belly, too."
"And you, little lady, did willfully destroy precious crystals, some of which had been grown for more than five centuries in zero-gravity."
"Hey! The little squirts were going to fry us!" protested the Leewit.
"That takes some nerve—you, calling anyone else a little squirt." Hantis smiled impishly. "It's not that the High Lord wants to punish us, but Sprite law is quite inflexible. He'll have to go through the motions. If there are complainants, then he has to act. But now that the truth is being told, Arvin and the others are somewhat embarrassed. No one will complain."
But it soon became apparent that although High Lord Arvin was content to let bygones be bygones, some of the other Sprites were not. First, the accusers got to speak.
"They're saying," said the Leewit with a frown, "that misunderstanding or no, Hantis insulted Aloorn's honor. And we destroyed part of the ancient heritage of Aloorn. And that one is saying that the High Lord is taking a stranger's word and destroying part of—hey, wait a minute! I recognize him! That's the one they called Wellpo. He's one of those three that kidnapped me!"
"Ah," said Hantis. "I will ask the guard to take a message to the High Lord. I could tell he was lying, but I thought that it was merely politics, which is mostly lies. You don't remember the name of the third kidnapper?"
The Leewit shook her head. "No. She had a sharp chin and a pointy nose, that was all I noticed."
"Well, that means it could only be about any of the Sprites," said Goth with a yawn. The captain knew how she felt. The proceedings were long and the seats comfortable enough to encourage a nap. Below them the arguments went back and forth. And on and on, rather like a slow foreign play in which the dialogue was the only important part. Then, just as the captain was dropping off to sleep, things suddenly got more interesting.
"They're grabbing old Wellpo!" squeaked the Leewit with delight. "Said he'd stick a knife into me. Oh, look! He's hit one of the High Lord's guards over the head!"
Pausert sat up and peered over the edge of the gallery. There was quite a fracas going on in a gallery some ways down and further to his right. And, he noticed, one going on across to their left that the Leewit hadn't yet spotted.
He took her by the elbow and pointed. "That your lady with a pointy nose?"
The hat of the "lady" in question had just been knocked off. She was struggling with two of the High Lord's guards.
"Yep," said the Leewit in satisfaction. "I guess they got her, too." Then her eyes narrowed and she whistled. Several pieces of expensive crystal in the far gallery shattered, including a globe in the long-nosed woman's hand.
The Sprites in the gallery scattered. "Guess whatever was in there was pretty nasty," said the Leewit. "They've still got her though."
"She was one of those calling for retribution, too," said Hantis with satisfaction. "The guard I sent to tell Arvin about Wellpo said that the High Lord had instructed the guards to search his quarters. I think they must have found something that incriminated her. I think that this is all over, even before those who would speak for us have their turn."
"Vatch!" hissed Goth. "Captain, get ready."
Pausert began hastily shaping hooks of klatha force with his mind. And then realized that, unless Silver-eyes needed to be tickled, they wouldn't help.
Why didn't you catch the big one? it buzzed reproachfully. I took a big chance teasing it, Big Real Thing. It nearly caught me, too—and then you let it get away!
It was too quick for me, admitted the captain. And I can't get close enough to it now. It's watching us, but keeping its distance. I've been trying to figure out how to either go after it, or to get it to come closer.
The tiny vatch buzzed around, amusing itself by doing a quick light-shift and making the underside of the gallery where they stood transparent. Why don't you hide where we can't see? Then the big one might come looking. Though it might just go away, I suppose.
If the big vatch just went away they'd be stuck here in the past. But they had to try something. Where can we hide, though? You seem to be able to find us across time and space.
There's a no-place right here, Big Real Thing. Where they make the stuff for the lights. The place where up spins. You could hide there.
"Where 'up spins'?" The captain assumed Silver-eyes was talking about some kind of power plant. He thought about it for a while.
Where up spins. A generator? A spinning magnetic field? That might make some sort of sense to a creatures like a vatch.
The crowded galleries began cheering.
"What's going on out there?" asked the captain, irritated that his train of thought had been disturbed.
Hantis laughed. "We've got a lot more adherents than Sprites who wish us ill—especially as the chief detractor turned out to be a paid spy and possible murderer. The fact that the Leewit is a child and was kidnapped upset a lot of Sprites. The mother of young Lisol and Ta'himmin has just finished speaking. She was very eloquent on your behalf, Captain. We Sprites are protective of our young. They'll be yelling for war now, when they find out the infected ones have fled to Delaron."
"Huh. Child!" said the Leewit crossly. "I think I'll whistle at 'em. Lisol and Ta'himmin are children. Me, I'm—"
"An impossible brat," said the captain, with a smile. "A pint-sized disaster-in-motion. Other terms come to mind." He pressed on before the Leewit could do more than scowl. "Now, if they'll let us out of here, I want to try getting out of historical Nartheby before you go and destroy any more its ancient heritage. Is there a power-generator room we can get to, Hantis?"
She nodded. "But you will have to wait until High Lord Arvin rises from the Seat of Judgment. While this matter will, I think, be speedily settled, I believe there is a second item on the slate. A question of property. We Sprites believe in finders' keepers and there is a belief among a small party that you have expropriated their property, Captain. Property that they found, and should be entitled to keep."
"What's that?" asked Pausert warily, feeling in his pockets.
"Their pet," said Hantis, with a perfectly straight face. "Ta'himmin and Lisol Aloorn-Taro have prevailed on their grandfather to enter a plea for its return. They say it is skilled in playing games, and good for defense. Besides all that, it helped to fix their nursebeast. So they want it back, even if it does eat a lot."
" 'It'? A toy! Huh! I'll fix them." She began to purse her lips. Hastily, the captain clamped his hand over her mouth.
Hantis shook her head "The demand will be denied, of course. This is just their grandfather's way of raising a public vote of gratitude to you, Leewit. He is a powerful sub-clan head. This is how you gave rise to your own name, you know, as well as saving two great ones among my people. Ta'himmin Aloorn-Taro is credited with much of the restoration. And his sister is remembered as Lisol the Healer."
Hantis smiled oddly. "It is a bit strange to see my own distant and famous ancestor as a very little girl-Sprite. As you know, the youngest daughter of my house is always called 'the Leewit.' Toll and Threbus asked me for a good name for you, so I offered them one of ours. I never knew where it came from, until now. Ta'himmin and Lisol never forgot you."
The latest of the universe's Leewits dissolved into tears. The captain decided it was safe to remove his hand. But he still did so a bit warily. With the Leewit . . .
You never knew.