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not.
    “We need to know who started this and why,” Quinnault replied. “My investigators must ask questions and keep their eyes and ears open for more signs of trouble. I’m certain there will be more.”

    Sunset, neighborhood temple three islands west of Palace Reveta Tristile, Coronnan City
     
    Katie sank to her knees on the cold stone floor of the little neighborhood temple. The last rays of sunlight streamed through the high narrow windows, adding luster to the icon tapestry of the three Stargods descending upon a cloud of silver flame on the back wall of the sanctuary. Beside her, Quinnault bowed his head and murmured the prayers for the dead. Nimbulan, Myri, and Yaala occupied the space just behind the royal couple. Around them—with a buffer zone of empty space out of respect for Quinnault and Katie—the entire congregation recited the same petitions.
    A red-robed priest joined Katie in her prayers. She glanced briefly at him. He kept the cowl of his garment over his head, concealing his face. Unusual that anyone not of the royal entourage would come so close.
    The priest jostled her elbow slightly as he made a very Terran sign of the cross, touching head, heart, and both shoulders. She’d grown used to the locals using almost the same gesture but with a different invocation from the one she’d learned as an infant back home.
    “Almost like being at home,” the priest whispered in a Terran accent.
    “I should have known you’d show up eventually, Sean Michael,” she whispered back to her older brother—the middle one in age of her three siblings. “You aren’t supposed to be here. We agreed, no more family contact. We take no more chances contaminating this culture.”
    “Have to check on my baby sister.” He bowed his head again to avoid Quinnault’s inquisitive look.
    “Liam Francis already did.”
    “Ah, but our youngest brother has not reported back to us. I suspect he has found a tavern and a lady to entertain him for the evening. Like the dark-eyed beauty over there.” He gestured with his chin toward a woman with Rover coloring and Rover-gaudy clothing strung with chains of coins who knelt directly behind Nimbulan.
    “Or Liam Francis may have gone looking for a disruptive magician. I thought I saw you and Jamie Patrick following the same psychic scent.”
    Sean Michael raised a rusty red eyebrow at her. “We found nothing.”
    “Could you look again?”
    He nodded. “And when may I see my favorite niece, the Princess Marilell?”
    “In the morning.” Katie nudged him sharply with her elbow, a familiar gesture to quiet him during church services.
    “Kinnsell is not reporting in to the mother ship either. I really came to haul him back home, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see you, little sister.” He brushed her fingertips gently with his own.
    The brief caress filled her with warmth and a longing to hug him close.
    A moment later he slipped away, barely noticed by anyone but herself. A void of loneliness opened in her belly.
    Someone I should know? Quinnault asked her. He dropped his hand to clasp hers. His love channeled through the physical contatct.
    One of my brothers, she replied. She used to think mind-to-mind communications with her brothers came easily. But compared to the intimate contact with her husband, family telepathy seemed a great effort. No wonder her brother had whispered.
    Your family isn’t supposed to be here, Quinnault said.
    Neither is my father. Sean Michael came to take Kinnsell home.
    Odd place to look for your father. I’ve never known him to show the least interest in our customs.
    Kinnsell is only interested in himself.
    And causing trouble.
    Hush, beloved. Our part is coming up. Katie clasped a spray of bright flowers she had laid on the floor beside her earlier. When the priest signaled her forward, she rose and placed the small bouquet of autumnal blossoms on the plain stone altar. “In memory of my mother who passed beyond this plane