"Can I have another of these?" I asked Erin Demaris, the aforementioned brother of the hostess. I held out my glass, which until a few moments before had held the remnants of a dangerously tasty concoction involving strawberries, rum and crushed ice.

     "Certainly," he said, taking the glass and twisting in his chair to hold it out to his sister. "Another berry frost, Risa."

     He grinned at her, a wide uninhibited display of even white teeth, and she glowered at him with narrowed black eyes. But then, his charm wasn’t really supposed to work on her. She snatched the glass from him. She pointed at him as she looked at him. "You’re lucky I like her," she informed him before heading off to the kitchen.

     I watched him turn back around in his chair. Once upon a time blue eyes had been my preference. Not so long ago though, the preference had somehow slid over to black, and he had just the kind of glorious dark come-drown-in-me eyes that had become so dangerous to me. Short black hair coiled close to the head, creamy brown skin, and that easy white smile. He was, I thought glumly, beautiful. What was he doing talking to me?

     Well, he was telling me about the law, for one thing. He was a solicitor, of all things. But he wasn’t boring about it. He’d had me laughing, earlier, telling me about ludicrous obscure laws that no one remembered but for which they could still be prosecuted. Like it was illegal to hang one’s laundry outside on sevenday in Darkenwood. Or it was illegal to pretend to practice – though not to actually practice – witchcraft in Red Deer. And my personal favorite, in Gathering Place it was illegal to walk a pig on a leash on the street. Erin couldn’t tell me whether it was the walking of the pig, the leash, or the city street that was objectionable, though he did claim there were no similar restrictions on any other species of livestock.

     I’d never known the law could be so interesting. I’d always thought it was just stupid. Well, all right, it was still stupid, but at least it was amusing and stupid at the same time. Saving grace, that.

     "So how long are you staying in High Scape?" I asked him, because he was a resident of Erstwhile, the Empress’ City. Where Karish was right then.

     He shrugged. "However long it takes us to patch together the bill. There are only eighteen of us." He rolled his eyes. "So it shouldn’t take more than a few years."

     The Bill. Meant to create a quota within the Imperial Council. At least of the third of the seats would have to be held by members of the merchant class. Mother was very excited about it, and I had a feeling that was one of the reasons she had come to High Scape to visit me. To watch the Bill being created. That or Prince Albert’s visit, scheduled for later that summer.

     Most of the High Landers were spitting nails over the Bill. The Empress was insistent on shoving it through, while her son and heir hated the idea. I, being a Shield and therefore above – or perhaps beside – class rivalries and loyalties, couldn’t have cared less. "Years? Really?"

     He shrugged again. "Probably not, but possibly. When we’re working on something this controversial, it can take a while. Or, on the other hand, it may force us to throw something together quickly and try to slip it through before anyone really notices. So, in answer to your question, I really have no idea. Which makes it hard for me to decide whether I should continue to bunk with Risa or find a place of my own." He shivered suddenly. "One thing’s for sure, I didn’t pack the right kind of clothes. It’s freezing tonight." He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them. "I’ve been to High Scape many times but I don’t remember the summers being this cold. Is this normal?"

     "This is only my second summer here," I told him. And much of my first summer as a resident of High Scape had been spent elsewhere. "From what I’ve been hearing, though, this is unusual."

     Risa reappeared, a fresh drink in hand. "Here ya go, kid," she said.

     Yes, I was odd, requesting an ice drink on such a cold night. People were giving me strange looks. But then, I didn’t feel the cold as much as they did. "Thank you, Risa. These taste wonderful."

     "Is the music all right for you?"

     I’d been too distracted to even hear the music for the past hour or so. I concentrated on the light strands floating from the flutist stuck in the far corner. "No danger of that making me go berserk," I assured her. "Your furniture is safe."

     Risa nodded, then slapped her brother on the shoulder. "Stop monopolizing her."

     He raised his eyebrows. "Do you see some kind of barricade around us?" he demanded. "Anyone is free to join us if they wish."

     "Huh," she said, unimpressed. Then she wandered away, her attention caught by someone else.

     "But," said Erin, "whether or not I’ve been monopolizing you, I have been monopolizing the conversation, and as much as I love talking about myself, it’s good practice to actually listen to others occasionally. Does wonders for my advocacy skills. So please," he gestured at me, "what’s your favorite color?"

     Uh, all right. "Green," I said. "My favorite composer is Ikura Donetello, and I hate everything Hillerson ever wrote. I like bar dancing, coffee, and walking in the rain. I dislike working at midnight and badly written historical texts. And I now expect you to sift through all that information and tell me my fortune." I took a swallow – it was too thick to sip – of my drink, crunching on the small chunk of ice.

     "Health, happiness, and someone tall, dark and handsome?" He grinned.

     I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said, "Hm," and crunched some more ice.

     "Seriously, though, I’ve never really talked to a Shield before, and they seem so mysterious. What’s it like to be a Shield?"

     Ugh. I hated that question. Made me wish I still lived at the academy, where everyone knew what it was like to be a Shield. I’d been out for less than two years and I was already sick of trying to explain my calling to people who couldn’t possibly understand. However, most people were regulars, neither Shields nor Sources, and they were the reason why we did what we did. Even I recognized the stupidity of cutting myself off from so many people merely because being around them required a little more effort.

     And, of course, there was the fact that I some day wanted children, and I wanted the father of those children to be a regular. It was the only chance for a permanent relationship I had. Pairs of Sources and Shields rarely stayed at the same post for more than a few years. If I had a Triple S lover, the day would come when one of us would be transferred somewhere else, and that would be the end of that. Not that I believed love had to last forever, or even that it should, but I wanted to at least make a long term relationship a possibility. So, that meant a regular partner, and that meant I had to get used to being around regulars who weren’t my family.

     Not that it wasn’t nice to talk to people who weren’t expected to be stoic all the time because they were Shields or flighty because they were Sources. There was a certain lack of stress in dealing with people who were allowed to just be what they were, who worried about everyday issues like working and paying taxes and trying to get their kids married off to the right people. And it was certainly interesting dealing with people who came from such a variety of backgrounds, who’d been all over the world, who’d seen so many different things that I could never see from the inside of a school.

     And the upside to being asked the same question about eighty thousand times was that I had developed a nice neat answer that usually addressed every element of a regular’s curiosity. "I was born with this ability, and my parents sent me to the academy when I was four years old. I don’t remember this happening but I have been told it was not a traumatic experience for me, it rarely is for Shields. My family was able to visit me often." I hadn’t longed for what the regulars tended to call the ‘real world’ while I was at the academy. The professors had kept us too busy and entertained for me to even think about what was going beyond the academy property. "I enjoyed my classes, mostly, and completely understand their purpose. I really do have a little more difficulty feeling things like pain – or the cold – and I had to be taught how when I was a child. I am, however, extremely sensitive to the effects of music, which is why Risa is showing such care. I really am bonded to my Source, and no, that does not mean we are in love or can’t stand to be out of each other’s company." No need to tell the regular that often the bond worked the other way, that some partners couldn’t stand to be ‘in’ each other’s company and did so only for the purposes of work. We actually had such a Pair posted at High Scape and they were a nightmare to be around. "All it really means is that I can shield Karish better than I could any other Source." Well, no it could sometimes mean more than that. There were all sorts of implications to the bond, but regulars didn’t need to know that, either. "Shielding is difficult but also exciting. Basically it entails making sure the forces the Source is handling during an occurrence or disaster don’t crush him and kill him." Very simplified version of events, but it was really hard to explain to people who couldn’t do it.

     Erin blinked, looking a little stunned. Then he smiled. I had a feeling he had realized his question wasn’t exactly original. Smart lad. "And what is it like to be a Shield for Lord Shintaro Karish?"

     Ooh, hated that question even more. "Karish is a thorough professional."

     But Erin didn’t want to know about that. They never did. "One hears things about him."

     It was my turn to shrug. "No one can help what people say about him except those that do the talking." And if some of the rumors were based in fact, well, that was no one’s business. I wasn’t going to defend his actions to anyone. He was a good decent man and an excellent Source and what he did in his free time with consenting adults was purely his affair.

     Another bent smile. "I see."

     And that was it. Apparently he was ready to drop it. How unique of him.

     Something shattered, the sharp sound exploding across the room, halting music and conversation. "Damn it!" I heard Risa hiss.

     Erin was on his feet. "What happened?" he demanded.

     "The damned bottle exploded. Just as I was opening it."

     "She’s sliced her hand up pretty bad," someone else commented.

     Erin looked down at me. "Excuse me," he said to me. He was off before I nodded. I rose to my feet as well, but I couldn’t see anything over the heads of all the others. Damn my lack of height. Just how unladylike would it be of me to climb onto a chair?

     Erin and Risa disappeared off into the kitchen. From the sounds of things there was nothing life threatening happening, and I would probably just get in the way. I knew nothing about medical aid, anyway.

     "What was that lovely piece you were just playing?" my mother asked the startled flutist.

     She blinked. "Uh, Twilight Sonata," she stuttered.

     "Please, start it again. It will soothe my nerves after hearing about poor Lord Greenmist."

     "Oh my yes, can you believe it?" said a young woman named Delia, who worked at the pie shop Risa loved. Risa could make friends with absolutely anyone.

     Uh, anyone who wasn’t too intimidated by Risa’s formidable stature and her legendary ability to kill a person just by looking at them. Or so the story went.

     "Just disappearing like that," Delia continued. "It’s spooky." She shuddered.

     "Oh, no doubt he’ll show up in a ditch somewhere," said Samuel, a bailiff. "Probably got drunk and was attacked by robbers."

     Shaka, a street artist who thought he knew everything, snorted. "They’d be wasting their time, wouldn’t they? Greenmist’s pockets have less in them than mine."

     "If he looked the part of a lord, they wouldn’t know that until after they went after his purse," Captain Wong pointed out.

     "And would have killed him for raising their hopes."

     "Don’t say that, Shaka," Delia chided him. "There’s no reason to think he’s dead."

     "No reason to think he isn’t," Shaka retorted. "No one’s found any of the other High Landers that have gone missing, have they?"

     Captain Wong’s eyes narrowed at the less than subtle criticism. "We’re working on it," he snapped.

     "Sure you are, Captain, but nothing’s turning up, is it? That woman, the first one who disappeared, the Honourable Lady Tara, she went missing months ago, and no one’s found her yet. Or figured out what’s happened to her. You honestly trying to tell me she isn’t dead?"

     "Or worse," Samuel added darkly.

     Zaire. Fate worse than death rhetoric. Just what we needed to hear.

     "She might have merely taken a vacation," said the Captain.

     Alright, so that was lame.

     "Without telling anyone about it?" Shaka mocked him.

     "Besides," Samuel added, "she didn’t have any money either. Where was she going to go?"

     "What would anyone want with landless High Landers?" the Captain challenged them. "All the High Landers who’ve gone missing have had no power, no money, no land. There was no reason to take any of them. Or kill any of them. I tell you, it’s just a bunch of bad coincidences. Or someone’s idea of a joke."

     "Oh, who cares?" Zeva piped up, speaking for the first time. She was a prostitute. I found it ironic she had been invited to a Runner’s home for a social engagement. "They’re High Landers. Useless High Landers. If there is someone picking them off, they’re doing us a favor."

     "That’s a terrible thing to say," Delia gasped.

     "Oh, grow up!"

     "If someone’s doing something to these people," said the Captain, "it is a crime, and they will be punished."

     "Aye, as soon as you can figure out what is going on and who is doing it," said Shaka, his voice nicely laced with derision.

     And they were off. Suddenly the whole room was taken over with competing discussions concerning the uselessness of High Landers and the ineffectiveness of Runners. I set down my drink and made my way through the crowd, sneaking up to my mother’s side. "Well done, Mother."

     "I thought so," my mother responded without a trace of remorse. "Certainly beats talking about the most fashionable length of skirts this season."

     Well, she had a point there.

     "You seem to be enjoying Erin’s company," my mother said.

     "You seem to be enjoying the Captain’s," I retorted sharply. Ooh, bad. Keep the tone even.

     "Yes, he’s interesting," she answered, unmoved by my obvious disapproval. "I spend so much time talking to holders and traders, it’s nice to meet someone with a completely different perspective on things. I’m sure you understand. You said yourself one of the reasons you were so happy to come to this party tonight was to get to know better people who were not part of the Triple S."

     Aye, but I wasn’t laughing coyly and flipping my hair at all of them. And I wasn’t married or otherwise committed to anyone. "What would Father say if he saw you flirting that way?"

     Mother stared at me, surprised. Then she started laughing. Not the reaction I’d been expecting. "My dear sweet cloistered child! That wasn’t flirting!"

     I was not sweet, cloistered, or a child. "You were fiddling with your hair," I pointed out.

     "Yes, well, I wasn’t trained out of my natural twitches, dear," my mother said drily.

     "I’m serious, Mother."

     "Yes, dear, aren’t you always."

     One quick breath. "It is not appropriate for you to be making up to another man-"

     Mother rolled her eyes. "I was not making up to him, Lee. We are people. People are meant to enjoy each other’s attractions."

     "Mother!" I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

     "I’m not talking about sex, Lee."

     Gods. Struck speechless. I was not hearing this. Surely I wasn’t too old to stick my fingers in my ears and hum? Surely.

     "What is wrong with enjoying another person’s wit? Or the timbre of their voices? And what’s wrong with liking the knowledge that they enjoy your company, too?"

     I tried again. "When you’re married – "

     "You swear your loyalty to one person. And your fidelity. It doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the company of other people. And it doesn’t mean we can’t like being attractive to others. Else we’d all be wearing black." She looked me up and down with blatant censure.

     I wasn’t wearing black. I was wearing a dark blue gown of simple, practical lines. It wasn’t the most attractive gown I had, but it was warm. I’d wanted something warm. It was chilly that night. "Don’t start, Mother – "

     "That dress – "

     "I like this dress."

     "It’s a lovely dress. For someone twice your years."

     Oh, aye, a forty-five year old woman would wear a dress like that. Zaire. "It’s fine."

     "It does nothing for your complexion or your figure."

     Was pale a complexion? And I had, unfortunately, no figure to speak of. I was neither ethereally thin nor sensually voluptuous. The best anyone could say about me was that I was healthy.

     There were times when it was appropriate for me to go to the extraordinary effort of looking my pitiful best. An informal party given by a friend was not one of those times. I’d just have to charm people with my winning personality. But my mother wouldn’t accept that. It was the only thing marring her visit. From day one she hadn’t stopped harping on my clothes. "Leave it, Mother. I mean it."

     "Right then. How about we come to an agreement? I won’t comment on your way of doing things and you won’t comment on mine."

     "Fine." My mother was a grown woman. If she wanted to make a duplicitous, unfaithful fool of her ....

     I shook my head, actually shook my head right there in the middle of the room where everyone could see me. It was none of my business. Really. I hadn’t lived with the family since I was four years old. I had no idea how they behaved on the day to day basis. Maybe my father was a flirt, too. And even if he wasn’t, well ... it was none of my business. And whatever else might be true or false about the matter, a middle of a party was no place to discuss the matter.

     It was strange, having my mother in my home. Well, first, it was strange having a home at all. I had really spent little time in it, after seventeen years at the academy and close to half a year outside of High Scape for one reason or another. Even I didn’t know where all the corkscrews were. Or how to really scrub the floor. I had barely settled into my flat before I got a letter from my mother, telling me she was going to visit and teach me how to live in the real world.

     Well, she didn’t actually write that last bit out, but that was what she meant. I could tell. And I didn’t mind. It had been made clear to me, not long after I left the academy, that I really didn’t know how regular people lived.

     And I didn’t really know my mother. I knew her better than most of the students of the academy had known theirs, for my family had had the means and the inclination to visit me almost annually. But those had been short visits, only a couple of weeks, barely worth the trip. And they had been on academy grounds, where we were all subject to academy rules. And it had been my mother and father and sister and brothers and me.

     This was different. Mother was staying for an indefinite time – and with her behaviour with the Captain I was beginning to wonder why – and it was just her. We were both adults, free of anyone’s rules but our own. She was staying in my home, such as it was, yet she was my mother which meant – didn’t it? – that she had some kind of authority over me.

     Plus it was just strange having someone else living in my space. Even in the academy I’d had a room to myself during the latter years. And yes, I still had a room to myself, Mother slept in the spare, but she was always in my flat.

     When she wasn’t off gallivanting about with one of her new-found friends. She’d been in High Scape for little over a week and she already knew more people than I did. I had to learn how she did that. Though I wasn’t jealous. Oh no, certainly not.

     I rolled my eyes and went back to my drink. It had started to melt. It didn’t taste as good that way.

     Risa and Erin returned from the kitchen, halting the conversations because they were carrying food, which always had that effect. Plus this food was on fire. Chunks of meat and whatnot on sticks, on fire. Apparently it was supposed to be served that way. I didn’t know if serving flaming food to alcohol-filled people was the best idea ever, but it certainly made a good spectacle.

     After everyone who cared for some had been served with torched meat and their drinks freshened, Erin came back to me. "Sorry about that."

     "Is she alright?"

     "She seems to be, though with Risa it’s always hard to tell. You know these law enforcement types. Can’t show any pain unless you’re actually dead, and then, well, what’s the point?"

     He said that as though it were a bad thing.

     "Ah hell!" Samuel shouted, disgust blatant in his tone. He was staring out a window. "It’s snowing!"

     A rush to the other windows in the flat, and I was no better than the others. I flipped aside a curtain and aye, it was snowing. Hard.

     "But it’s summer!" Delia wailed.

     "Don’t suppose there’s anything you can do about this," Samuel said to me.

     I shook my head. "I can’t do anything without Taro." Or another Source, but generally Shields didn’t work with any Sources other than the one they were bonded to. "Besides, we can’t do anything about snow."

     The expression on Samuel’s face suggested that might have been one of the stupidest things he’d ever heard. "You don’t do snow?" he demanded.

     That was not what I had said, and I certainly hadn’t used a tone that implied mere snow was somehow beneath the efforts of a Triple S Pair. "We can’t do anything about snow, rain, overcast days. You know, normal weather. Just cyclones and earthquakes and the like. Big, unnatural events."

     "Are you trying to tell me snow in the middle of summer isn’t unnatural?"

     Well, he had me there, but it didn’t change the fact that there was nothing I could do. Still. Again. Whatever. I sighed.

     I set my drink down. No more alcohol for me. It was depressing me. And really, there was no reason for feeling inadequate. Karish would be back soon, he’d promised in his last letter. Then I’d be back on the roster and back at work and life would feel normal again.

     Erin fetched more wood and built up the fire until it was roaring. It gave the room a cheery atmosphere and after a while everyone seemed to forget it was an atmosphere unsuited to the season. More drink, more food, more conversation. All in all, a successful party, despite lacking any outbreak of scandal or a brawl.

     But when Mother and I walked home afterwards, it was still snowing. That was strange. And I didn’t like strange. The last time things were strange, it was because a twisted crazy Source had used his abilities to deliberately create said cyclones and earthquakes and the like. For the fun of it. Because he could. Because he was bored. He gave his followers a wagonload of tripe about wanting to change the world, and those in the know at the Triple S thought he’d had some grand scheme for taking over the world. And hey, if world domination had fallen into his lap I had no doubt he would have enjoyed it. But no, the real reason was because it was something to do. He’d had no partner, which meant he wasn’t allowed to work anywhere. He had been bored. And completely nuts. So he had chosen toppling cities and causing the deaths of thousands as a sort of hobby.

     So, strange was bad.

     I pulled the collar of my dress closer to my neck. The chill was making even me uncomfortable. I was not a doctor. I really thought dealing with one megalomaniac was enough for my career. So no more snow. Alright?