Chapter 1 "This is the last one. The last one!" cried Vala, holding the faux-paper away from her body as though it carried a disease.               "Let me see it, honey." Her mother, Mosrell Gochre, swooped out from the kitchen, dressed in a frilly outfit that was obscenely small on her. Most of her ripples and bulges were hidden beneath her stained apron. Vala tilted the paper to allow her shorter mother to read it.               "Oh, honey." Her mother's sympathy oozed with insincerity. Not only had Mosrell known this was coming, but she'd likely spent weeks planning an appropriate reaction. Even her hug felt calculated. As Vala suffered in the awkward embrace, her vision blurred with tears.               She hadn't expected to actually cry over this. Her good judgment had known it was coming, and had whispered the terrible truth to her every night as she lay in bed, trying to sleep. Her heart had known, even if her waking mind kept the ember of hope alive. The letter was no surprise.               Vala's tears grew hot with anger. Her mother had known, too, but instead of warning Vala, or offering helpful advice, she'd ignored the problem. Typical Mosrell Gochre. Vala found it increasing hard to forgive her mother's selfishness. She'd walked around with a bounce in her step for the last quartyear--one fourth of a planetary revolution--daydreaming of making a fresh start, of a wonderful new life. Now her dreams were smashed, with only a fake hug for comfort.               Vala hooked stray wisps of her hair behind her ears. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced herself to read the body of the letter aloud.               "After a careful review of the materials you have sent, the Imperial Business Academy is delighted to inform you that you are accepted for enrollment in one term of general studies for the 19,944th Imperial Quartyear. Information pertaining to your housing and registration is enclosed."               Vala took a deep breath for the next paragraph.               "Your application for financial assistance has been denied due to insufficient information. Please submit your financial information to us by the first semester deadline for reconsideration."               "It's possible to work for a while, and save up," her mother said brightly, without so much as a regretful pause.               "Do you know why I've been denied?" Vala smacked the stiff paper with the back of her hand. "They assume no one living in Cove Legraud could possibly need financial assistance."               "I'm sure that's not true--"               "I'm sure it is! Why would fifteen Academies all give me the same response? One look at my city of residence . . . one look at our family icon--" she pointed to her mother's icon, which glowed on the wall-screen, framed by the fancy swirls of Cove Legraud--"and they assume I can afford anything." Vala gripped the paper hard enough to make impressions on it. "Because you're too proud! If you would just submit our financial information, I'd be fine . . . but you can't handle anyone seeing how far down in the world you've come. So you limit my opportunities--"               "Enough!" her mother snapped. All traces of false sympathy were gone from her slate gray eyes. "You're disappointed, Vala, but don't take it out on me. You can keep working at the cleaners. Save up money. Lots of other people do. Eventually you'll have enough--"               "In years!" Tears finally spilled over Vala's cheeks. A full year lasted too long for the Imperial government's record-keeping and tax purposes; several years could encompass a person's lifetime, so the calendar was divided into quartyears. "What do you know about it? You've never had to work your way through education. You keep pretending you're still rich, you won't leave this place, so Joguan and I are stuck with your monstrous bills, while your debts get bigger--"               Mosrell shoved Vala in the ribs. "You're going too far, young lady. Get out. Go to your room or go look for a second job, but stop complaining to me. You sound like a spoiled brat."               Emotions frothed inside Vala like pressure in a bottle, but she held the cork on tight. She'd been in shouting matches with her mother before, even fistfights, and nothing good ever came of it. There was nothing she could use as a lever. Vala had never once seen Mosrell Gochre upset by claims that her single parent family was dysfunctional, or that her children might hate her. She and Joguan had both considered running away, but they had too little experience of the world beyond the town borders, and the media painted most of Aellul as a cruel, desperate, impoverished world. Mosrell Gochre might say "good riddance" and refuse to take them back. She was a poor mother, but as a maid at the Yeresunsa Axial House, she earned enough to provide the basics of food, shelter, and medical coverage for three people. Barely.               "Are the Yeresunsa hiring?" asked Vala. It was almost a threat. She suspected her mother would be humiliated if she had to scrub floors alongside her daughter.               Back in the kitchen, Mosrell looked disdainfully at Vala through the oval cutout in the wall. "If I had any influence with the people who do the hiring, I'd be able to pay for your education myself."               "Tell me how I can apply."               "You need experience, honey," her mother said in a voice dripping with condescension. "Either years of working with Yeresunsa, or familiarity with royalty. They accept nothing less. I was hired because of who I . . . well, who my husband was." Her eyes, hard as pebbles, met Vala's. She brushed back a lock of carefully styled blonde hair that had fallen over her face. "We still have the titles, honey. Baroness Gochre." She daintily touched her breast. "And my children, Lady Valachenta, and Lord Joguan. We are, in a way, royalty."               Vala sneered. She'd heard this speech countless times. Currently the Baron Gochre was living with his ninth wife on a distant tropical island. He was a father only in the genetic sense of the word. Yes, Vala had the title and the breeding; the thin nose, large gray eyes, and golden tan of someone who has been born and spent her entire life in Cove Legraud. But the Baron had the royal birthright to deny anything--or anyone--he wished to deny.               "You're not royalty, Mother. You just pretend while you clean up after the Yeresunsa."               She left the apartment before a fight could erupt. Mosrell had been known to give chase with raised fists upon hearing such remarks.               On the street, Vala slowed to a walk and stuffed the letter into a pocket of her cheap, out-of-fashion jacket. She wished it could shield her from the remnants of her shattered hopes. While she grew old working as a cleaner, her former classmates would go to academies, in places beyond Cove Legraud.               It was a rest day. Joguan would be at the hardware store, where he worked every day after school and on rest days. The store manager did not allow his employees to socialize. Vala considered going there anyway, to ease her depression, but her brother had enough to worry about without her problems.               So she walked toward the cleaners. Maybe she could wheedle some extra hours from the fat, grumpy woman who supervised the shop.               Evening shadows washed the street in blue hues. The sun winked orange through the gaps between buildings. Breakers Avenue was lined with low-income residences, shaped like shells or cresting waves. Their sibling architecture screamed BUDGET. Vala turned on Market Street and kept her stupidly optimistic eyes open for "Help Wanted" signs, just in case a second job would actually make a difference in her life.               A trio of tourists from Umdalkdul, a desert planet, walked toward Vala. They held their cloaks tight over their small forms, so only their beaks protruded. The pleasant weather must feel cold to them. Cove Legraud never got hot or cold, and it only rained at night, on workdays. The Yeresunsa controlled the local weather in exchange for taxes.               This picturesque, hateful little town was consuming Vala's life. Whatever she earned, taxes and royal levies sucked most of it away. Her mother took the rest. Vala had the idea that it didn't all go into necessities, judging by the increasing size of their debts.               Two of the Umdalkdans glanced shyly up at Vala as they passed, their round eyes gleaming from the shadow of their hoods.               "Hello," she said.               They returned the greeting, sounding startled by her politeness. Vala guessed they hadn't encountered much friendliness on her planet. She considered asking the Umdalkdans how easy it might be for her to get a job in their solar system. But a hovering tourist trolley landed on the walkway behind her, letting out a stream of gawking tourists. Vala walked on.               Another alien tourist, one of the Sun People, stepped in front of her. "Excuse me, miss." He spoke with his native accent. "Will you tell me how to get to the Yeresunsa Axial House?"               Like most natives of the Jodinak Empire, he seemed impossibly tall and thin. His neck appeared too long to support his round, flat head, framed by a gigantic mane of reddish hair. Vala judged him to be two feet taller than herself.               "Sure." She pointed. "Go right at that intersection, past that portrait shop, and--"               "I have had a few mishaps with directions here," the Jodinak broke in. "This town is pleasing to the eye but not well laid out, if you will pardon me for so saying. Can you spare some time? I will pay you to lead me."               Vala shrugged. The Axial House was a universally famous landmark, not easily missed, but the Jodinak tourist looked impatient. "All right," she said. "Follow me."               "Thank you." He fell in step beside her. His shadow was like a flower, with his thorny shoulder pads as leaves. His feet barely made a sound on the polished walkway.               "So," said Vala in the uncomfortable silence. "Is this your first trip to the planet Aellul?"               "Yes. And hopefully my last," the bony creature replied curtly.               "Oh."               After another minute of silence, she dared to ask, "Why?"               "It is a long story," said the Jodinak. " I'll give you a summary. Two of my employees accused each other of embezzlement. I trust both of them, but the evidence is clear that one of them must be guilty. They each have families and rely on me to make the fair decision. I have hired three investigators already, with no good results. I need a telepath to determine who is the truth-teller. But the Yeresunsa Axial Houses on Jodinak bade me wait two years for one of their telepaths to clear her schedule. Can you believe it? I supply food for their organization--I am the primary supplier for your planet, in fact--and they wanted me to wait two years."               "Oh."               "So I traveled all the way to your planet for this small service," the Jodinak muttered darkly. "Had to practice your language and everything. I assumed I would save time by coming here. What a mistake! When I arrived at your Capitol City, they told me to come to this vacation spot instead. I have spent more money at one of your hotels than I have spent on my entire crew and staff, from Jodinak to Aellul. They keep saying that none of their telepaths have time to see me. They recommend that I take this as a vacation . . . as if I had the time for that!" The Jodinak eyed her with one displeased, slanted eye. "Mark my words. If their rudeness continues, I will end my services with them. That may alter the relationship of the Jodinak Empire to your planet. I do not believe I am asking much. A single, quick service rendered by a telepath. Is this not a simple thing?"               "It is simple," Vala agreed. She supposed that the Yeresunsa had a right to rudeness, however. They performed miracles. No one else in the universe had such capabilities.               "They render services for your people immediately, am I correct?" The Jodinak seemed to have decided that Vala was a perfect target for his pent-up frustration. "If you asked for a service from a Yeresunsa, they would grant it as soon as you asked. Correct? They're all from Aellul, so they must grant you people special privileges."               "No," she replied truthfully. "They stay apart from us. Most people have to wait quartyears for a service unless they have a lot of money. Royal families usually employ their own court Yeresunsa. But you must know that."               "Hmm." He regarded her thoughtfully, green eyes reflecting the crisp afternoon light like emeralds. "How much would these court Yeresunsa charge?"               She nearly laughed at his assumption of her knowledge. "I wouldn't know, sir."               He was undeterred. "Would a telepath be cheap compared to other Yeresunsa, or more expensive? They avoided quoting me a price."               "Well, the telepaths don't belong to the Yeresunsa Order anymore, so their prices are probably different."               It took Vala a moment before she realized that the Jodinak had stopped dead in his tracks. She rejoined him.               "Repeat yourself," he demanded. "No one has informed me of this."               She considered excusing herself and leaving, hardly able to credit his lack of knowledge. But then, perhaps the Sun People did not learn Aellul history. Vala knew little about foreigners, because the foreigners were usually the ones who asked questions.               "I thought everyone knew." She fiddled with the letter in her pocket. "The law was passed a few generations ago. The Yeresunsa raised their standard for membership, and now they only accept people who have a certain amount of power. They call it 'Capacity.' Most telepaths don't qualify for membership because they have only fractional Capacities. It's the same with empaths and seers. I guess the Yeresunsa got overwhelmed by the number of telepaths that wanted membership in the Order. I'm not clear on the details." She hadn't paid much attention in history class herself. "Anyway, there was a big, long trial that dragged on for about a century, and finally the telepaths and seers were kicked out. The Houses of Telepathy and Prophecy still exist, but they're considered separate from the Yeresunsa Order."               At the end of her speech, the Jodinak exploded in rage. "So why in the light's pink sky did the Yeresunsa Order keep telling me to wait? I was led to believe I was waiting for the services of a telepath!"               "Well, there are still telepaths in the Order." Vala did not hurry her explanation.               The Jodinak narrowed his eyes to long slits. "Clarify."               "The law doesn't specifically exclude telepaths. Those who have exceptionally high Capacities--a handful of them--are accepted as members of the Order. Besides, some telepaths have other abilities, like telekinesis or healing." She paused, and decided to state the logical conclusion. "The Yeresunsa probably wanted you to pay for one of those multi-talented telepaths instead of an ordinary, everyday telepath. You could find one by looking it up in a local business directory."               It was nice to be useful to somebody, no matter how impatient he was. Vala had once aspired to become a tour guide, until she realized that no one would hire a girl who was unfamiliar with the ritzy clubs and retreats.               The Jodinak stared at her, open-mouthed. It looked strange with such a small, toothless mouth, and no visible jaw or chin. "They've been playing me for a kafk," he said. "A fool."               "I've heard they do it a lot."               He eyed her suspiciously. "How do I know you are telling the truth? Your people seem to enjoy lying and misguiding."               Vala knew she should be offended, but she chuckled in bitter agreement. "A lot of people around here, especially. But come on. I can take you to a pretty good telepath. I know where her office is."               The Jodinak paused, still suspicious. Finally he drew an embroidered pouch from his cloak. "You have been far more helpful than most of the people I've encountered on your planet," he said, pulling out a thin gold coin. "I owe you for the information . . . if it is true." He pressed the coin into her palm. "You likely don't need this, living here, but I believe in giving people their fair due no matter the circumstances. In this case, your fair due is for doing what would be taken for granted on my world: being straightforward and honest. I must be desperate if I'm paying for that." He sniffed. "Bring me to your telepath. If she is legitimate, I will pay you five percent of whatever price she charges."               Vala was stunned into saying, "Really?" before she could stop herself. She'd heard that Telepath Grotelda was ethical, in spite of the arrogance that was ingrained in all telepaths, but competition and the cost of living in Cove Legraud forced her to charge high prices.               Of course, Grotelda, who was no older than Vala, owned a successful chain of chic fashion shops to supplement her telepathy practice. It must be easy to please the customer when you can read the customer's mind.               Fawning respect wouldn't hurt, either. Vala and Grotelda had both attended the same neighborhood childcare program, years ago, and even then, people had treated Grotelda as though she were a deity. The tutors would excuse her from lessons and indulge her every whim. The other children feared Grotelda. Her own parents had been terrified of her. She had been somber and creepy, with more knowledge than any child her age should have. Once she began training at the Yeresunsa Academy, she would walk around Cove Legraud with her nose in the air, flaunting her House of Telepathy insignia. Privilege was automatically bestowed upon those born gifted with a Yeresunsa ability. Royal titles and wealth meant nothing to them. They were all as rich and powerful as kings. Their magical abilities, no matter how small, set them apart.               Vala had no particular desire to visit a telepath--especially one who might remember her as a cringing, sniveling baby who had always tried to sit as far away from her as possible in class--but the promise of five percent was tempting. The merchant's coin was universal gold, good for a week of groceries. She masked her surprise by sliding it into her pocket.               "Can I trust you?" she wondered out loud.               The Jodinak burst out laughing, and then surprised her by grasping her hands. It was not a custom of his species. His grip was awkward. "I don't think anyone would dare give false promises when going to see a telepath. Especially if this telepath is friendly with you. Oh, my name is Magg."               "I'm Vala." She did not bother to tell him that she was only a maid's daughter, and not important enough to be on friendly terms with a telepath.               "Lead on, Vala," said Magg, chortling. "All this time, wading through days of--what term do your people use?--bureaucratic barriers, and all the while, I could have found a telepath any time in a business directory! I'm excited about this. I've never actually used the services of a Yeresunsa before. They're not a pleasant group, to my mind, but what they can do is very useful. How often do you deal with telepaths? Have you ever employed one? How many of your thoughts can they read, or can they only detect lies? They don't see every little embarrassing moment of your life, do they? How much do they charge? Is it by the hour, or every time they hear a thought? That would not be fair. Has there ever been a case of a telepath lying to a customer?"               He kept up the prattle for the entire walk. Vala answered his questions as best she could, although many stumped her. In the back of her mind, she entertained a fantasy of being hired by the Jodinak merchant, becoming an interstellar traveler, and eventually owning her own High Speed spacecraft. She was suddenly glad that she had taken a class in conversational Jodinakano. It might come in handy. Few Aellul citizens were ever graced with the opportunity to leave their own solar system; that sort of travel was an expensive luxury, reserved for ambassadors, royalty, and Yeresunsa.               Small, quaint shops lined the road as they walked. The sparkling blue ocean was constantly in sight to their left. Rare flowering trees with pink and purple blossoms framed structures composed of what looked like eggshells and glass. Everything in Cove Legraud had been designed with the words harmony and seamless in mind, by universally famous architects thousands of years deceased. The only people who seemed to notice were the tourists.               Well before they reached the Bridge of Sunset, the Yeresunsa Axial House loomed above the hilltops. Its majestic image above the Jheveso Sea was what attracted so many big name sorcerers and conjurors, foreign dignitaries, and interstellar celebrities to Cove Legraud.               Vala saw the monolith every day of her life, and still she marveled. It appeared to be a slab carved from an ancient mountain. The entire town lay at the foot of its colorless granite mass. The pastels and tropical greens of the Cove seemed gaudy in comparison; too shiny and new. From this distance, the Axial House appeared to be a smooth gray rectangle, unbroken by any opening, untouched by sunlight. Vala knew the stone was not polished. It was as raw and jagged as rocks eroded by the ocean. No ivy grew up its walls, although wild greenery decorated most nearby cliffs. Perhaps the Yeresunsa disliked plant life. "Some of them have peculiar tastes," her mother had replied vaguely when asked.               The Axial House was older than the town, older than the kingdom, and perhaps older than the Aellul Empire. It predated space travel and hover technology. Every granite face was the six-thousand-year-old original.               Magg took two involuntary steps back. His long green eyes gave no hint of awe, but he was uncommonly quiet. If there was one form of magic the Yeresunsa practiced daily, it was the power to impress.               "It is much bigger than the Axial Houses on Jodinak," he said finally. "Bigger than it looks in pictures."               "Well, it's one of the largest buildings on Aellul," Vala informed him, playing the tour guide. "Hundreds of Yeresunsa live inside, and they have thousands of Yeresunsa guests and royalty."               The merchant hurried to match her steps. "I will visit them later to warn them of my dissatisfaction."               Vala thought that facing a Yeresunsa in anger sounded like a good way to destroy oneself. She often saw the sorcerers gliding along in their silk robes and black mantles; every place was their private house, and every person their servant. They were forces of nature, and ordinary events could not influence them. Well, there were some classic stories about Yeresunsa who devoted their lives to helping dying children or the like, but Vala didn't put much credence into those. She had once worked as an aide at the local hospital. Yeresunsa did not visit sick and dying children in Cove Legraud.               The road became a pearly white bridge that spanned a deep chasm; the famous Bridge of Sunset. Floating light globes tethered by silver wires hung suspended over the railings, mirroring the colorful sky and ocean. Midway across, the bridge branched into multiple tongues. Each tongue led to a different street on the far side. Waves broke on rocks a thousand feet below, their roar distant and mournful. But this ocean was a calm one, and the bridge ancient. Not even high tide would bring the water closer.               Vala led the Jodinak merchant across one of the leftmost tongues. She rarely used this one. It led to the commercial hub of Cove Legraud, where every office employee owned a private yacht.               The wealth was subtle. The walkway was made of glistening pearl, true, and instrumental music issued from devices hidden inside tree trunks, but none of the buildings were ostentatious. Nothing was new in this part of town. Fresh facades could not disguise squat, ancient architecture. A friend had pointed out Grotelda's office several quartyears ago, and now Vala found that she had trouble remembering which one it was. She spent so much time peering at address signs that Magg asked, "Are you lost?"               "No," she said, spying a small insignia for the House of Telepathy on the next building. "Here we go."

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