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Trent because I daren’t offend her by demanding she call me anything else.”
    “I am relieved,” said Aunt Laetitia, “that your education at least included the basic respect for one’s elders that was expected in my youth and is sadly lacking in young people today.”
    Kate merely grinned. She still wore men’s clothing, but her suit was less formal than the unrelieved black and white of the night before.
    “We can’t thank you enough for helping us last night,” began Sanjay.
    “Good gracious,” said Aunt Laetitia. “Please eat your breakfast first. I never advise serious talk on an empty stomach. It only leads to hasty decisions.”
    Chryse and Sanjay acquiesced gratefully. The sidetable was lined with an abundance of food: meats, breads, fruits, and sauces. They had almost finished when Lord Vole entered. He looked distinctly under the weather.
    “Ah, Julian,” said his aunt. “Tell me if I’m speaking too loudly. Mistress Cook has prepared your favorite meat sausages.”
    Had he been able to turn green, he would have. “Perhaps a thin slice of bread and some tea, Aunt,” he said in a strained voice as he sank into a chair.
    “Never could hold his liquor,” said Kate to the room at large.
    “Good morning,” he continued weakly, inclining his head as slightly as possible towards Chryse and Sanjay.
    “Sorry to see you’re not feeling well,” said Sanjay. “My mother has a recipe that she often gives to people suffering the after-effects of drink. If I could—”
    “Is she a healer?” asked Aunt Laetitia. “Let me call Master Butler and he can convey your recipe to Mistress Cook.”
    Sanjay hesitated. “I could just as well—” faltered, and finished. “—of course.”
    When the butler returned some minutes later, glass in hand, both Kate and Lady Trent examined the contents of the glass with interest.
    “That looks utterly disgusting,” said Kate with satisfaction. “Drink it up, Julian.”
    By the time Aunt Laetitia ushered them into the parlour next door, Julian had recovered most of his usual complexion, and Chryse remembered that she had thought him very attractive on their first meeting.
    “Now,” said Aunt Laetitia as they disposed themselves on the sofas and chairs that ringed a small table in the center of the room. “That you are foreigners I can certainly believe. Monsieur Mukerji’s coloring is obviously that of a native of the East Seas, and most likely Indhya. Madame Lissagaray I cannot place so easily, although her height and the extreme lightness of her hair—I have heard that across the Western Ocean in the Vesputian colonies the women grow as tall as the men, and the men as tall as giants. An unlikely tale, but in any case.” She paused to clear her throat. “Perhaps we should start by asking what brought you to Heffield.”
    “Heffield?”
    Even Julian, still recovering, regarded Sanjay in some astonishment. “You’re in Heffield.”
    “I see,” said Sanjay slowly. “This city.”
    “Evidently we shall have to start at a more basic level.” Aunt Laetitia’s tone was amused.
    “Of course,” said Chryse suddenly. “Sanjay! What brought us here?” He looked at her and nodded abruptly. “Excuse me a moment.” She rose. “I must get something that I can only hope will explain what we cannot.”
    She returned, carrying the velvet pouch. “I believe these brought us.” She removed the cards from the pouch and spread them out on the low table.
    “Did you get the—” Sanjay began.
    “Yes.” She lay the Gate down on top.
    “May the Son bless us.” Aunt Laetitia put a hand to her bosom.
    Kate stood up and bent over the table. “That’s a remarkably fine set,” she breathed, overcome with an emotion Chryse could not identify. “May I touch them?”
    “Of course.”
    Kate knelt before the table and with an obviously experienced hand collected them together and dealt them out on the table so that the cards fell into a pattern. “Bloody hell,”