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him.
    Ci Dehai sat in the fifth chair. He had chosen to swear an oath to the regent of the Entire. Quinn trusted this decision, though Ci Dehai’s ravaged half-face could not be read and although swearing to Quinn put him directly against the Entire. The general of the Long War had answered, That is a war for another day . Quinn accepted the statement at face value. If it comes to war, you may decide again, General . Ci Dehai had bowed, the bargain struck.
    Quinn glanced at Anzi. She responded to Zhiya: “Let us ask the Jinda ceb when they arrive. They may want no reminders of wartime.”
    A delegation of Jinda ceb would control and stabilize all the mechanics and physics of the Entire, as the Tarig had once done. So they would be tech masters. Without the Jinda ceb, he could never send the Tarig back to the Heart—where they were going as soon as might be arranged. They were already massed at the Ascendancy, every one of them, having been summoned home by Ghinamid before the fight that felled the Sleeping Lord. As far as Quinn knew, they sat up in their manses in that quasi sleep they used to alleviate boredom. They did not stir out, under his threat of using the mSap to close their door home once and for all.
    Sometimes Lord Inweer came onto his balcony to gaze out. He was a true Tarig individual, or as close to one as a Tarig got. Those like him called themselves solitaires , who preferred never to mix with the general swarm in what the Lady Demat had called their congregate state . It gave Quinn pause, the thought of forcing the solitaires back to that primeval pool. But they had all—all of them—planned to burn the Rose. Banishment was a merciful punishment.
    After the messenger left, Ci Dehai spoke. “Where will we billet the Jinda ceb representatives when they arrive at the Ascendancy?”
    After a pause in which Quinn gave no opinion, Anzi offered hers. “The plaza. To keep some distance between them and the Tarig.”
    Zhiya said, “So long as they are not next to us.”
    â€œThe farther away, the more exposed to a raid,” Ci Dehai countered.
    â€œMy godders do not like the Paion.”
    Ci Dehai muttered, “A soldier does not have to like the company he gets.”
    â€œMy godders are not soldiers.”
    Quinn held up a hand. “Ask your operatives, Zhiya, how they can best protect the Jinda ceb when they arrive. Report back to me.”
    A brief nod as she cut a glance at the general. “We have all lost those we love to these creatures.”
    Quinn sighed. So much for the peace of the Entire. How, by the Miserable God, had he arrived at this place, holding the Tarig at bay, changing the geography of minorals, inviting an ancient enemy home? The Rose , Anzi always reminded him. We have done it all for the Rose. Otherwise, husband, would we not be in a far sway, finding peace in each other’s arms? That must have been in the first days after her return, before she decided that, next to him, she looked old.
    â€œWithout the Jinda ceb,” Quinn went on, “the Entire will roll up like a rug. Tell this to your godders, Zhiya, and make sure they understand. We need the Jinda ceb, or the Tarig will have to stay and keep things running. I may be the regent, but I’m not a lord and never said I was.”
    Zhiya said, “We’re putting the All in the hands of those we hardly know.”
    What choice did they have? Compared with the Tarig, the Jinda ceb were vastly preferable, at least from Anzi’s reports. They had rescued her when she had drifted between branes. Quinn was very predisposed to think well of them.
    Quinn put iron in his voice. “Nevertheless, Zhiya, the Jinda ceb will take charge.”
    â€œRegent,” she said, evenly enough.
    â€œWhen the representatives arrive,” Anzi said, “I should greet them. It is best if they see a face they know. If they send a Beautiful One, then Titus, in respect you must