It seemed to Jim as the months passed after their return to Cascade that some invisible change had been wrought in his life, improving it to a startling degree. He was so content and functioning so well that he almost superstitiously expected disaster to befall in order to restore balance to nature. Part of it, he knew, was that in his absence Simon Banks had received approval and funding for the creation of a special branch of the sheriff's department.

Major Crimes, as it was called, concentrated on problems beyond the normal law-breaking and minor violence common to any human community. The officers assigned to the new unit, answering directly to Simon and Jim himself, sorted through the complaints levied on a daily basis, allocating them to the appropriate people. After the cases were filtered back down to the deputies, or to civil authorities, the officers in Major Crimes tended to the majority of the rest. Jim helped as needed, but concentrated on those that infringed most directly on Elderkin law and the possible local infractions of it.

Though the lightened work load was a blessing, it couldn't entirely explain Jim's increased sense of well being. The minor changes Blair had brought to their home helped considerably, he admitted when he thought about it. Somehow with a fresh coat of paint, new draperies, and a few additions to the furnishings, their quarters had become a haven from the city, as refreshing to him as a ride with Ften in the woods. Blair had persuaded him to hire a cleaning lady and laundress, as well, freeing up more time to be spent in leisure, which Blair insisted actually be used for recreation, not more work.

Even the surreptitious surveillance on Kincaid and his fellow conspirators, depressing as it was to see how widely and deviously it had penetrated into the citizenry, especially into the parlors of the well-to-do, of Cascade, was nearly effortless on Jim's part. It was as if every sense had been honed to the sharpest possible level during his holiday, despite how short-lived it had been before Joilet's attack called him back to duty. Or perhaps because of it, he mused occasionally, because it had given Blair and him the opportunity to work together again as closely as they had during the High Court.

In fact, when Jim truly considered their mutual situation, they shared common goals now much more than they had previously. The problems that were usually brought to Blair's attention were being sifted through Major Crimes, freeing him to be at Jim's side more frequently as Jim performed his own investigations. His presence gave Jim the opportunity to use his senses more often and in more depth than was usually possible in the sensory quagmire of Cascade. Perhaps, he finally concluded, it was a case of practice making perfect. Whatever was behind the improvement in his quality of life, Jim was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, but enjoy it while he could.

The only fly in his particular ointment was one of the officers of Major Crimes, an Australian import named Megan Conner. For some mysterious reason, she had set her cap for him, despite Blair's obvious claim. She had been subtle enough that Jim had had to argue with himself that his ego was reading more into her affable invitations to join her for a drink or a meal than was present, not to mention he didn't smell desire from her when she issued them.

Regardless, she was insistent in her attempts to connect with him socially, going so far as to insert herself into his off-duty activities despite his clear disapproval. She had enrolled on the inter-city baseball team that Blair had coaxed him into joining, rented horses from the stable where Ften and Corvair were housed to ride the same trails as they, and fished regularly at the pier where he and Blair would stroll in the evening to relax.

Blair, bless him, wasn't disturbed in the least by her behavior. In his opinion, Conner was trying to learn more about her competition for best lawman in the city. Not born in the Americas, all she knew of liegemen was the distorted gossip and myths common in other countries, and Blair felt it proper to let her discover the truth in her own way. To give Conner credit, she was friendly and helpful to Blair, but her interactions with him lacked the insistent edge that Jim perceived when she approached him

Turning his head down to affect great interest in the complaint in front of him, Jim tried to dismiss his concerns at the latest turn in Conner's conduct. If he was not very much mistaken, she was attempting to act as his guide, going so far as to usurp Blair's role in his very presence. Even Blair had been taken aback at her actions.

Pen tapping on the edge of the paper, he remembered earlier that week when Conner had insisted on accompanying Blair and him on a ride. They had paused to admire the view from a ridge, and Jim had become accidentally become Lost in Sight while admiring a bird on wing. Though Blair had only been a few feet away, seated under a tree and enjoying the breeze with his eyes closed, Conner had put her hand on Jim's chest and tried to coax him back. Her voice was so irritating, he had actually fled further into the wonder of feathers and wind, losing almost all connection with his body.

Thankfully Blair had noticed the rising stridency of her voice, saw what was happening, and intervened before Jim surrendered completely to what he saw. He had caught Jim by the waist and pulled him back to safety before lack of muscular control had let him fall from the edge. Bringing Jim back to himself had taken long enough to worry Blair, but he had not done more than mildly chide Conner for attempting aid when she did not understand the danger.

Jim absently made a mark next to a comment that struck him as inconsistent, even in his distracted state, and wished he had more evidence against Conner besides that one incident and the many times he had caught her staring at him as he used his abilities. It was almost as if she were waiting for him to zone again for some reason.

A clatter of footsteps on the stairs alerted Jim that Blair was on his way, and he looked up to see him burst through the doors to the large open room that Major Crimes shared as work space. Satchel swinging from his shoulder, late as usual, he skidded to a stop in front of Jim's desk. "My apologies, truly, I know we were supposed to lunch together today."

"There's no time now," Jim pointed out mildly to confirm he understood that Blair had another appointment pending.

"It has taken me weeks to convince the board of education to meet with me in private to discuss adding biannual visits from liegemen to the curriculum. I do not wish to give them cause to postpone the conversation indefinitely. It has become ever more obvious since we learned of those foolish youths drawn into Kincaid's conspiracy for their money, though they know that not, that we must reach out more to the young of Cascade to instruct them on the Elderkin."

Blair did appear contrite, but he was concerned about something, as well. Brushing his hair from his face, he added, anticipating Jim's question, "No, I am not expecting difficulties above and beyond the usual stodginess common in traditionally minded individuals, and no, I do not think you would be a useful addition to the meeting. Your tendency to glower at those who disagree with you, not to mention your rather intimidating build and size which you do not hesitate to flaunt if you feel it will forward your cause, will add a damper to the atmosphere of convivial cooperation I wish to foster."

"My cause happens to be your cause, in this situation," Jim inserted at the first promise of a pause in Blair's speech.

"Be that as it may, I have spent years dealing with stodgy academics and their ilk. I am quite capable of extracting the desired results without resorting to the authority, physical and otherwise, that you represent." Suddenly Blair grinned and perched on the edge of Jim's desk. "I prefer to hold you in reserve if they prove to be more fractious than I anticipated."

With a snort of amusement, Jim put down his pen and eyed him. "I am always willing to serve. Now tell me what has you upset if not the approaching confrontation with unyielding bureaucrats."

"The beekeeper, Juniper Midgeman." Blair dug into his satchel and drew out a complaint form that bore the marks of having been processed. "Her bees are dying, and she does not think it is from natural causes."

The name sounded vaguely familiar, but before Jim could identify it, Blair went on. "She came to my assistance while I was struggling to learn wrangler's skills for Herdsman Wilson." He leaned forward to pitch his voice more intimately, handing Jim the form. "Her kindness, self-serving as it was presented at the time, was invaluable to me. And she knows her craft, Jim. If she says her bees are being deliberately destroyed, they are."

"So she infringes upon her earlier act to persuade you to pay heed to a frivolous complaint?" Though Jim had diligently kept his skepticism from his voice, Blair must have sensed it.

Bristling with disappointment, Blair said, "No, she did not. She did not even levy the complaint; her lady friend did on her behalf. If I know Juniper, the last thing she would want is the appearance of calling on previous ties in order to further her own interests. In fact, her report did not even make it to our offices. I overheard a deputy joking about it and intercepted it on my own."

"I see." Jim read the statement and gave the matter a moment's thought. It wasn't out of his purview, as bees were as much a part of the natural balance that he was responsible for as any other living thing. Nor was it as trivial as it seemed on the surface as the beekeeper's livelihood depended on her hives. Besides, she had been kind to Blair. He was a firm believer into doing unto others.

Reaching a decision, he stood, automatically drawing on his gloves and checking his weapon. "Would you prefer I wait until you are free to accompany me?"

"You would go now?" Blair jumped to his feet, clearly torn.

"My intent is to reassure her that I am taking her problem seriously, and not humoring a hysterical female for your sake." Jim paused in front of Blair, solemnly meeting his gaze. "From what you have told me of her, she seems the sort to take affront easily and refuse all assistance. As there has already been an unconscionable delay, promptness now would be an assurance of my sincerity in investigating the matter. "

"I would have to call that a fair assessment," Blair said, beaming at him in return. "And a solid plan of action to encourage her willingness to accept your aid."

"Why, thank you, Teacher," Jim intoned solemnly.

Blair only laughed at him, glanced at the clock over the entrance to the office, and yelped. With a hasty 'thank you' of his own called over his shoulder, he dashed for his meeting, nearly bowling over Taggart as he entered the room. Following at a more sedate pace, Jim decided to take a street car to the outskirts of Cascade where Midgeman kept her hives and walk the rest of the way to her fields.

To his dismay Conner was on his heels, thumping down the steps as if he would not have the opportunity to dismiss her if she were quick enough to join him. "You shouldn't go out alone," she said breathlessly by way of an excuse for accompanying him.

"Why ever not?" Jim said tartly. "I have managed quite well as a liegeman on my own for over a decade now. Much as I appreciate Sandburg's support, I have resources of my own that allow me to function as I need, thank you very much."

"I meant no insult," Megan tried, using a soft, coaxing tone. "Only to ensure your well-being. You are off to see to your duty for one of Cascade's citizens, are you not? I could see how intent the conversation between you and Blair was. And Captain Banks said that I was free to accompany you when Blair wasn't available."

Hiding a grimace at the unwanted casual use of Blair's given name, Jim said, "I believe the rest of that statement was, 'upon Ellison's request.' I am not requesting."

"As if you would," Conner scoffed. "That's one thing all men regardless of country or status seem to have in common. You would rather suffer endless torment than admit to a female that you might find a bit of help useful."

Not really listening to her rant, Jim continued on his way, mentally reviewing what little he knew of beekeeping. Honey was one of the few foods that humans regularly consumed that the Elderkin had a taste for as well, though they were not as discerning in their palate for it as sentinels. Despite that, he really had little in the way of information on either how the bees were cultivated or the process used in claiming the honey.

They arrived at Midgeman's establishment in short order, Conner trailing after him despite his very determined disregard of either her words or her company. A small stand graced the front of the apple orchard that defined the beekeeper's holdings, and it was manned by a slender young woman in waist shirt and riding skirt, brunette hair piled loosely on top of her head. Jim quickly discovered that it was she who had come forward on Midgeman's behalf, and she led the way to where the beekeeper was seeing to her hives.

At first Midgeman didn't wish to speak with Jim, but a gentle touch on her cheek from her friend convinced her, almost against her will in Jim's opinion. As Midgeman approached, Jim looked her over, not surprised at either the lively intelligence or wary suspicion in her blue eyes as she returned his assessment. She was of older years, though not elderly as yet, with her graying blonde hair cut into a tumble of curls that didn't touch her shoulder. Of medium height, she wore pants and an aged flannel shirt, and walked as if youth still held her bones.

"If you're doing this," she began.

"Beekeeper Midgeman," Jim cut in with his most formal tones, "My oath as liegeman directs me to the welfare and care of even the smallest creatures in the Americas. If there has been an uncommon amount of loss within your hives, it is a matter of concern. What if what has befallen them should prove to endanger other colonies?"

It was the correct tact in the correct manner to win her support, and she grudgingly said, "I do not think the loss is from natural causes. There is no disease that I can detect, and what I may not have personally experienced, I have heard about or read in my books."

"Can you tell me what marks a healthy hive, then? Or the symptoms I might look for that would indicate distress for them?"

Jim listened attentively, trying to process as much information as he could while she led the way to her hives, Conner dogging their steps as if she were a child afraid her parents would leave her behind while they tended to some terribly interesting task. Once Midgeman had chosen a colony as an example of one in peak condition, Jim studied it intently at a safe distance, paying no heed to the guardian bees who flew close to determine if he were a danger. On one level of his mind he hoped that Conner would become bored with his absorbed silence and wander away to relieve him of the unpleasant disruption she was to his senses.

Once he thought he had a feel for what was right, he asked Midgeman to show him the remains of a dead hive. Almost immediately he detected evidence that there was foul play involved in the loss. There was a scent, a texture to the remains that was very, very faint, even to his perception. It was out of place in nature, and he concentrated on it, searching his memory for anything similar that he may have experienced before.

He must have remained too still for too long, as if becoming Lost, though he had too many senses engaged for that to happen. Apparently convinced he was adrift in his abilities, Conner laid her palms on his chest and called his name. Her unexpected action startled him so completely that he backed into the hive beside them, bumping it hard enough to rock it on its stand. Jim knew enough not run or strike at the resulting swarm of disturbed bees, and braced himself to wait out the insects' agitation, his gloved hands covering his face. But Conner panicked, shouting invective while trying to slap them away and shove him toward supposed safety.

She ignored his command to stop, though he bellowed it at the top of his lungs, forcing him to consider the option of rendering her unconscious. Before he could, Midgeman took Conner by the shoulders and hustled her away, showing surprising strength, not permitting her to turn back despite her struggles. Jim followed in their wake, peering between his fingers and trying to move with the same calm deliberation Midgeman used.

Despite the nightmarish quality of their retreat as the cloud of bees swarming around them increased in size and distress, they quickly reached the refuge of the lit smoke pot and gauze tenting Midgeman had prepared. Between the two of them, they convinced Conner to sit quietly, hands under her to curb the impulse to do battle, while they waited for the defensive fury to fade. Midgeman filled the time with a diatribe about ignorance and failure to respect the experience of others, all the while gently capturing those bees still darting about their enclosure and releasing them outside.

Following her lead, Jim did the same, mildly amused that the insects seemed to like the material of his gloves as not one attempted to sting. Not that they all didn't have their share of those, and once Midgeman was content with the evacuation of her tiny charges, she saw to their injuries with economical movements, still scolding Conner, though she tended her first. When she came to Jim, she had him sit on the ground, then frowned at the three stings on the back of his neck.

"Are ye allergic, then, Liegeman?" Midgeman asked sharply.

Fingering the warmth of a sting in his hair over his ear, Jim said, "Not that I'm aware of, nor do I feel unwell." He paused considering the sensation troubling him and added honestly, "Shouldn't the area swell somewhat, perhaps burn a bit?"

"Aye." Midgeman sounded distracted, and she applied what felt like paste onto the stings. "Yeh brusin' instead, and liquid, not blood, nor any other humor that'n I know of, is drainin' from the hole left by the stinger."

Feeling the dampness on the tip of his finger, Jim held his hand in front of him to study it with a sniff, dab of taste, and long stare. "There's very little pain," he said finally, "and the drainage is natural, at least to my perceptions, though I do not recognize it myself."

"P'raps ye should have yer Elderkin guardian see to ye," Midgeman said doubtfully.

The resounding 'no' that rang in his mind did not touch his lips, nor his expression, his first thought being, 'trap!' Had the hives been killed for the sole purpose of bringing him here in the likelihood that he would be stung at least once? Who could have possibly known that he would have an untoward reaction when he did not know himself? Was Conner's true role to guarantee that the bees be angered while he was present?

Thoughts racing, Jim said aloud mildly, "Student Sandburg can attend to the wounds, if needed. Truly, Beekeeper, I am not discomfited in any way. If the need arises, I will contact the Elderkin, I promise. Now, may I aid you in the care of your own stings?"

Midgeman pushed up a sleeve and studied the small bump rising up near the inside of her elbow. "After'n so many years and so many stings, its hardly'n notice'ble. Don't trouble yours'f with me. Now, about my hives?"

"Poisoned," Jim said definitively. "And subtly so you did not recognize it as such immediately. Have there been strangers on your grounds or have you any enemies that would benefit in destroying your trade or reputation?"

Allowing that she didn't get on well with most, Midgeman still could not think of any that would do her harm, especially by destroying her bees. Traditionally her worst problem outside of Mother Nature was young hooligans after a bit of sweet trying to rob the hives. Uncertain what he could do to protect her bees, Jim questioned her further, then, before leaving, reassured her that he would not let the matter drop, but speak with the Elderkin on the first occasion he had to see if they might know the poison, at least.

Throughout their conversation, Conner sat silently huddled on the ground, arms over her knees, face down on them. After Jim made his farewells, she jumped to her feet to follow him out, trying to hide her rage and, oddly to Jim's way of thinking, fear. Mercifully, she remained quiet, allowing him to all but dismiss her from mind.

Though he had gone to pains to hide it, the bee venom was affecting him oddly, making his skin so very sensitive that even the touch-neutral feel of his uniform was teasing him like a soft, warm breeze. Despite the protection of the dragon-cast material, he felt the minute changes in air pressure that meant building, or tree, or person, almost feeling them as a cool shadow flowing though bright sunshine. The vibrations from his footsteps, from the movements of those around him, down to their very heartbeats, skimmed over him as lightly as a bit of down blown over his body.

Regardless of the yearning to reach the sanctuary of his home, Jim walked at his usual pace to catch a street car, expression as neutral as ever, nodding politely at those he recognized when he alit from it to finish his journey. It wasn't until he was safely in the building that he surrendered to the maddening awareness of his own body, and that only to hurry up the stairs to his quarters.

Letting himself in, Jim hurriedly removed his gloves, sighing in relief as he laid them on the small table next to the door. His boots were next, and he toed them and his socks off, instantly wondering if having them on would be better as every bit of grit or dust on the floor was as large as a boulder to his soles. Before he could decide, the coolness of the wood sank in, overriding the unpleasantness of the trace of dirt.

It was so liberating to be free of the confines of the leather, he couldn't help but think how much better it would be to have nothing against his skin at all. Putting aside his weapon belt, he tugged at the collar of his tunic, nearly ripping it in his haste to be rid of it. Habit more than conscious decision had him folding it neatly once it was off, and he stretched hugely, loving the play of muscle over bone and the hum of his blood throughout all.

"Oh, my, god," Conner whispered.

Jim spun, going into a defensive half-crouch. "What the devil do you think you're doing here!"

"I… you shouldn't be alone," Conner blurted. "I can see… you're all… there's still fluid seeping from the stings."

"What of it? I'm obviously not discomforted, nor in any danger than I can perceive. This is my home. You are not welcome here. Leave."

Conner inched closer, eyes dropping to his crotch. "I… You are under the influence of the venom in some way, Liegeman. James."

Until that moment he had not been aware that the delicious sensations tantalizing him had influenced his libido, but he ignored the proof of it distorting the front of his trousers. "Again, this is no concern of yours."

"It could if you wished it to be." Boldly, without warning, she ran her hand along his breastbone, her ultimate goal obvious.

Her touch was an assault on his nerves that nearly tore a scream from him, and he went rigid in denial, head back, eyes closed, fists clenched. Willfully taking it as consent, Conner plastered herself to him, stretching up to wrench his face down enough to try to kiss him. The scent and taste of her was as much of an attack as the contact, and all Jim could do was lock his will in place and endure, his erection fleeing as if it had never been.

"Remove yourself from my sentinel, now, Conner," Blair said coldly from behind her.

Shame and horror claimed Jim entirely, and he knotted his fists tighter, unable to do more than wait for his fate.

Mercifully, Conner moved away from him, not entirely under her own power, if he was any judge of footsteps and air currents. "He's… he was bee stung, Blair, and not himself at all since. I was only seeing to him until you arrived."

"Yes, I know about the incident and Jim's subsequent behavior. The beekeeper was kind enough to send a runner to me. Which begs the question of why you didn't." Blair had never sounded so critical and harsh to anyone in Jim's experience of him. "Of why you were forcing yourself on him when he obviously has no interest. He told me that you were in pursuit of his affections, and I dismissed his concern, thinking you would not be so foolish as to overstep your bounds."

As he spoke, Blair must have somehow maneuvered Conner until she was across the room, and he was between her and Jim. Angrily, but only to hide her guilt Jim decided, she said, "Of course he would place the blame on me for his wandering!"

Without paying the slightest heed to her retort, Blair murmured for Jim only, "I'm here. She won't touch you again, I promise. Let go, now."

He cupped Jim's hands in his palms, fingertips stroking gently over Jim's knuckles until he relaxed his fists. Hissing at what he saw, Blair brushed the faintest of kisses over the heel of Jim's hands, carefully avoiding the half-moon cuts made by Jim's nails. Sighing in more than relief, Jim bent until he could nose along Blair's ear, catching first his fragrance, then his flavor when he stole a fast nip of Blair's earlobe. The odd, urgent messages from his skin quieted at the infusion of Blair's essence into his own, and his mind cleared enough to reassert his self-control.

"We have to question her," Jim whispered. "She's too desperate, too fearful for her to accost me like this of her own will."

"She's putting a brave front on it," Blair said, resting his forehead on Jim's chest. "But I can see her terror. Suddenly I'm wondering if all the people from your past who wished to replace me had more motivation than selling influence or climbing the social ladder. I do think your father has been cooperating with the wrong people."

He stepped back after a last, affectionate pat. "Those wounds need cleaned."

Blair bustled away to retrieve first aid supplies, leaving Jim to stare at Conner. For a moment it seemed they would have a draw in their war of wills, but finally she dropped her gaze from his. When Blair returned, he drew Jim to the chaise lounge and sat tailor style in front of him. For several minutes none spoke while Blair cleaned the cuts, and apparently against her will, Conner calmed, somewhat.

"Why?" Jim said finally.

"And please don't try to convince us there isn't a 'why.' Not with the distress pouring from you," Blair added, head over his task.

"I…"

"Conner," Blair inserted sternly.

Twisting her hands, she blurted, "They told me that if I could replace you either in the bed or at his side, both preferably, they would help me bring my father to the Americas. He was denied immigration because he's dying of consumption." The last was said bitterly, and with great resignation.

Because the heat of Blair's anger still drummed in the air, Jim said tiredly for them both, "In return for?"

"I tell them everything I learn about the Elderkin and liegemen's abilities, no matter how minor it may seem." Sinking into a chair, she added with equal fatigue, "Blair is writing about the self-same thing for his University. I honestly believed that they could gain little of use that would not be public record."

"Did you bother to ask what use would be made of your information or consider that I might exercise extreme discretion in what I may publish?" Blair asked. At her guilty flush, he added, "I thought not."

With surprising gentleness, Jim asked, "What will they do now that you've failed?"

Fresh fear rose in her eyes, but she said, "Nothing. Isn't it enough that my Da will die, alone and far from me, when everyone knows there is medicine here, easily had, for his consumption?"

Nodding at Blair as he finished loosely bandaging Jim's hands, Jim drew him closer so that he faced Conner as well. Fingers toying with a lock of Blair's hair, Jim considered the truth or lack thereof in her words. "First, you could not have replaced Blair in my bed. I have had enough experience with women to know that is not where my interests lay. I do not know what those from Australia believe about such things, but the Elderkin teach us that gender preferences are inherent, to a greater or lesser degree. I would not have been able to perform for you, and I refuse to apologize for that if you wish to be offended."

Face turning white, Conner started to speak, but Jim held up a hand to halt her. "Nor could you ever be a guide for me. There is more to that than desire, as well. You do not smell right, sound right, look right, etcetera. A guide must appeal to all the senses on a level beyond even what one seeks for in a lover. If I could not be attracted to you physically, there is absolutely no chance I could accept you as my shield companion."

"Bastards!" Conner swore. "They made it sound as if were nothing more complicated than two people in an arranged marriage finding common ground to build on."

Not unsympathetically, Jim finished. "The last point is that no one, not even liegemen, advise the Elderkin as to who will be allowed to enter the Americas and who will not. If they wish them here - and I know of one instance where an entire village was brought over - ill health would not stand in the way. And, to make the issue very clear, we have always made our medicines available to other countries, without cost. Most refuse it, providing a variety of foolish excuses, but primarily because we will not permit the nobility to keep it for themselves or sell it."

"Bastards!" Conner leaped up and began pacing. "Are the Elderkin responsible for the regulation that says only healthy people may immigrate?"

Puzzled, Jim said, "There is no such regulation. All immigration is by invitation only. Is that not how you came to be here?"

"A formal letter on absolutely beautiful parchment, enclosed in a packet outlining all the conditions inherent, including the oath of citizenship you require."

"I think," Blair said slowly, "that the Elderkin would be very interested in seeing a copy of that, as most of it is likely outright lies."

Conner came to a dead halt in front of them. "The last thing you do before you get on the ship is turn the entire thing, save for the parchment, over to the authorities."

"Why does that not particularly surprise me?" Jim said.

He discovered he had completely tangled the fingers of his right hand in Blair's curls, and was coaxing him into leaning against his leg. Momentarily distracted by how lovely it was to have him close like that, he tamped down on his baser impulses and forced his mind back to the issue at hand. "Who are 'they,' Conner? Who deceived you?"

Fuming, she went back to her pacing, throwing off names that were already all too familiar to Jim and Blair from their investigation of Kincaid. She volunteered times and places for their meetings and shared the tidbits of information they had provided to her on Jim's habits and preferences. None of it was particularly confidential, but it disturbed Jim that anyone had been able to compile such a complete dossier on him without him hearing so much as a whisper about it. Few outside of his immediate family knew his past so well.

Eventually she wound down, perching on the edge of the settee again. "Could they have kept their promise at all to bring my father here?"

"Not legally," Jim said instantly. "Virtually every country with sea-going ships has tried to land with unwanted immigrants, spies, even armed soldiers, for hundreds of years. Did you hear of the last attempt at invasion, some four decades ago now? The European Allies sent an enormous fleet to draw the Elderkin's fire, believing that their new, smaller, faster steamships would be able to land farther down the coast without notice because of the attention given the larger armada. They were met with fire, as well."

"Not even one or two?" Conner asked, sounding mostly curious now.

"I will not say how, but one is as easy to spy out for them as a hundred." Jim stood. "I would suggest that being truthful to a certain degree with your, ah, deceivers, would serve you best. You attempted to seduce me only to be told that I am a lover of men. We will not contradict any other claim you might need to make to prevent them from attempting further coercion on you."

Understanding she was being dismissed and apparently relieved for it, she said suspiciously, "You won't have me removed from my position? Or make public that I was made a fool of?"

"Why?" Blair said softly. "As you said, the punishment was built into the discovery of your scheme. You are now forced to hide what you have learned from them lest they suspect you have given us their identities. And it is unlikely you will ever see your father again."

"At the moment," Conner confessed unexpectedly, "I am considering returning home to smuggle him away. He did receive a letter, but didn't attempt to immigrate because of the so-called health restrictions."

Gesturing her toward the door, then following her to it, Jim said, "If that is what you believe to be the best course of action, please let me know. It would hardly be the first time the Elderkin have aided in the removal of a willing person from the selfish grip of the country of their birth."

"Thank you." Looking very much as if she had bitten into something bitter, Conner added, "And I'm sorry. If I were to be honest with myself and you, I've known from the start of this absurd scheme that I would fail. Your devotion to each other is obvious. I think I was counting on the male propensity for infidelity, forgetting that liegemen are chosen as much for their trustworthiness as their abilities."

"You're welcome," Blair said, because Jim couldn't. But he made no comment on the apology, slowly closing the door in her face.

"Blair," Jim began as soon as he heard her footsteps departing.

"I know you were an unwilling participant," Blair interrupted, gathering Jim's hands into his own to remind him of the proof he had. "And that you did not use force to stop her because you did not trust yourself to not do her serious harm. I am far more concerned about the consequences of those bee stings. You have never been so familiar with me in front of a friend, let alone a potential enemy. Your desire is all but a living thing winding around us like the finest, sweetest silk from China."

Bending to rest his forehead to Blair's Jim confessed, "I have not been so sensitive since my senses awoke while I wandered in the mountains, nor more aware of my own flesh. All I wish is the feel of you against me, your curls an enticing cloud of sensation adrift around my face as our mouths mate. I swear, it is not beyond my command, only my desire to do so."

"You do not need to woo me," Blair said, thumbs describing soothing circles over Jim's knuckles. "I would not deny you when your need is so great."

"You deserve to be wooed," Jim said fiercely, gut turning molten at even that simple caress. "and so much more. You always come to me with such eagerness and joy, and I am always so ravenous for the gifts you bestow that I rush when I should take my leisure, seize greedily when I should handle tenderly."

Jim breathed deeply, taking in the heady musk of Blair's arousal, all senses sharpening to nearly painful clarity, all singing of the beauty of the man in front of him. Distantly he realized he needed to watch his words lest he revel more of his heart than Blair should be burdened with, but speaking his mind for once, dropping all pretense of how much Blair meant to him, was almost as potent an aphrodisiac as his very first kiss had been.

To silence himself, Jim turned his hands in Blair's so that Blair's thumbs traced over Jim's bare chest, skimming his nipples in the delicate way he loved. The hard points peaked further, drawing a gasp from him that he didn't try to hide, pulling a matching one from Blair. Without any further coaxing, Blair repeated the caress, stretching up to claim Jim's mouth as he did.

Though Jim permitted him command of their kiss, he deliberately held away enough that the loving lash of lips over lips was barely enough to raise tingles that spiraled madly all through him. Leaning back against the door, he submitted entirely to the passion owning him, guiding Blair's hands as they kissed to all the most erogenous places on his body, trusting Blair to grant him the insubstantial touch he required.

In very short order he was shaking from hunger, manhood harder and longer than ever before. Blair was trembling, as well, muttering half-formed endearments and soft praise between each brush of his mouth over Jim's. Every syllable fell on Jim's ears like different sort of caress, but one that went straight to his belly regardless. Blair twisted and writhed against Jim, fleeting strokes that were almost only a promise of true contact.

It was exquisite torment; it was divine pleasure too intense to be borne. Yet it built and built and built until Jim had no coherent thought left, not even enough to demand release. He lived in the incredible pleasure, certain only that Blair was with him in the relentless rise of want.

At Blair's urging he turned to face the door, forearms supporting his own weight, as Blair explored his back with the same deliberate, feather-light touch of fingertip and lips. Jim moaned unashamedly when Blair discovered how sensitive he was along his shoulder blade, then whispered a choked plea for more. Of their own accord his hips rocked back, seeking the burning ridge of Blair's maleness to incite his passion ever higher.

"Oh, oh, oh," Blair whispered. "What you are doing to me. I have never… oh, oh! Are you… the way you sound, the way you smell… no one… I want, oh, how I want…."

Dimly a warning bell clamored for Jim's attention, but Blair reached around to undo the buttons on his trousers, drawing them off with hasty, jerky movements, silencing anything but the growl of his urgency. Blair sank to his knees behind Jim, loosely encircling Jim's ankles with his fingers. He scrubbed his face over Jim's bottom, the scruff of his day's beard a delightful contrast to the smoothness of his lips.

"Magnificent," Blair breathed. "You are simply magnificent. All that power covered with skin that belies the softness of satin." At Jim's negative rumbled, Blair chuckled. "I know, it's like praising your rifle or knife; your body is just another tool. Ah, but, Jim, it is meant for our pleasure, too. Surely you won't begrudge me the delight I take in knowing what joys we can share because of it."

Too far gone in sensual abandon to have words at his disposal, Jim dropped his chin to his chest, cock throbbing dangerously as he felt Blair's admiring gaze travel over him. It was as real, as perceptible to him as the sigh of air over his naked skin, and he locked his knees at the impact of it to stay upright. By some miracle Blair understood what he had accomplished. He murmured approvingly before awarding Jim the barest of licks at the top of his cleft.

Habit, instinct, training - all combined to tighten Jim's body when he only wanted to yield the most private part of himself to Blair's attentions. He stopped himself from drawing away, but Blair must have read the momentary impulse through whatever alchemy he used to understand Jim so very well.

"Let me. Please," Blair said quietly. "Has no one taught you what bliss comes from a kiss at that portal? Have you ever been touched there at all? Oh, please, let me be the first one to give you that. I'll go no farther than a kiss, I promise. I hold sacred your oath as well."

Sorrow and fear mixing alarmingly with lust, Jim turned slowly and sat on the floor, the dripping evidence of his need blatant. "I will not," At the growing pain in Blair's expression, honesty compelled him to confess, voice raw and rough, "The moment you pass that boundary, I will beg, crawl, do whatever I must to have you completely." With a trembling hand he cupped Blair's face. "And you will not be able to refuse me. We both know that."

Clearly startled, Blair stared at him, understanding dawning in his eyes. A part of Jim wished to hide from it, truly believing that it would only hurt Blair to see the truth in him. A stronger part echoed with the belief that, if nothing else, Blair had the right to know that he was loved and cherished above all others in Jim's life.

"Oh." The small sound was heartbreaking in its sudden comprehension and breath-taking when Blair repeated it in tones of startled wonder and pure joy.

He squirmed into Jim's arms, shedding clothes that he had already unbuttoned and undone, so that they were bare against each other. Holding Jim's face as Jim still held his, he daintily traced the line of Jim's lips with the very tip of his tongue, withdrew and smiled at him with all his heart in his eyes. Fearing the words that Blair would spill, Jim drew him back and kissed him with every dram of the pent-up emotion that had driven him for so very long.

To his amazement Blair answered it with a sort of delirious insistence that roused Jim to new heights, erasing everything but the demand to give and receive completion. He plundered Blair's mouth voraciously in the ancient rhythm his loins commanded, unsurprised Blair reciprocated with equal strength. They devoured each other, all delicacy lost under the necessity for release, all grace gone as they ground together, shafts caught between them in the satin and velvet vice of their abdomens.

The need for air forced Jim away from his treasure, but Blair only fastened his lips onto the line of Jim's throat, suckling until he raised a mark. Moaning, Jim urged him to repeat the process a little lower down, then again and again. Each sign of Blair's possession stirred him to ever more violent thrusts, yet paradoxically left a different appetite in its wake that they both knew could not be satisfied.

Nerves could only bear so much, and with a last desperate groan, Jim forced a hand between them to capture Blair's cock in his hand. The shaft was slick with seepage from the eye, and he fisted Blair roughly, giving a small twist of his wrist to send his calloused thumb over the nearly invisible scar of Blair's circumcision. With a howl, Blair went rigid, head thrown back so the tendons of his neck stood out, the pulse of his finish throbbing under Jim's palm.

The smell of his essence hit Jim's nose at the same time the heat and slipperiness coated his hand and belly. It splattered over his raging erection, and that was more than his overwrought nerves could bear. Whimpering Blair's name, he spent as well, the cream pulling from so deep inside, he ached with the release of it. At the same time ecstasy exploded through him, robbing him of everything but euphoria - and Blair's precious weight collapsing onto him.

Eventually his brain relocated his body and united the two, though not enough that he was able to do more than appreciate how very, very good he felt. Blair was still insensible, so Jim collected himself enough to heft him into his lap away from the cold floor. A faint shiver shook him, and he scrounged for the thimbrane that Blair habitually carried in the pocket of the coat tossed carelessly beside them. With both of them as snug as he could manage under the circumstances, Jim contented himself with playing with Blair's curls and savoring the moment of serenity.

When Blair stirred, sloppily kissing Jim's shoulder, Jim reluctantly abandoned lassitude for responsibility to his mate, commanding himself to speak frankly and completely. "Liegeman oaths are very specific and meant to cover a wide variety of moral and personal dilemmas that may arise."

With a sigh of sorrow, Blair accepted the inevitable. "Are we at the crossroads of one now?"

"Interestingly, I don't believe this particular quandary has occurred to the Elderkin, and if another liegeman has ever had to endure it, he or she has not chosen to speak of it." Jim hugged Blair tightly. "If I proclaim my romantic intentions toward another, my chosen one must leave for the Settlement, on the assumption that is the safest place for the owner of my heart. I will be given furlough as often as my duties allow to visit and renew the relationship, but that would not be more than a few times a year. Unsurprisingly, most liegemen marriages do not last."

Blair went very, very still. "Does that include a private declaration of emotion?"

"Yes - that possibility was foreseen, foolish as it is to think that not saying the words does not mean the sentiment is not felt or seen by others." Jim cleared a throat that was becoming too tight for the sadness he was sowing.

"I see." Blair's voice was small and lost-sounding.

"If I formally acknowledge my shield companion, he or she would be expected to take on the role officially, forsaking any other professional or familial obligations." Jim shook his head. "The last thing I would want, that I would expect, is for my guide to give up everything he's strived so hard for, especially so close to the fruition of all his plans and dreams. Perhaps that is the major reason that my clan did not wish me to take up the liegeman's oath. It was far too likely at my age that when I found my shield companion, he would not be free to swear himself to me."

Blair was silent for so long that Jim fully expected him to abruptly compose himself, dress quickly, and leave, sending others to fetch his belongings. Instead he said timidly, "A professor's salary can keep two as well as one, at least until a position is found. Simon is always in want for more officers, or, or, the University might overlook the lack of a formally recognized education for the value of life experience in a subject that few have specialized knowledge in."

Swallowing hard, jaw so tight he wondered if unlocking it would require strong drink, Jim said, "My service will not be done for another nine years, at least." At Blair's twitch of shock, he added, "The investment placed in a liegeman - the training, the warhorse, weapons, uniform, all of it - is considerable. In addition, if we are disabled in the line of duty or become ill, we are provided for generously. It is not unwarranted to expect a minimum term of service in exchange, nor do most consider the length onerous."

"And I expect that many willingly serve far longer." Blair gave up all pretense that he wasn't hurt to the core. "What will we do, Jim? I can't pretend that nothing between us has altered."

"Nothing has," Jim said more sensibly than he truly felt, hoping Blair knew that. "Our arrangement has never been, could never have been, anything but temporary. I willingly consented to that from the first. The end to it, however, lies in the future and much may happen between then and now. And in this 'now,' I have far, far more than I ever expected to be blessed with. I refuse to obsess on the darkness ahead when I have so much light brightening my way. "

"That arrangement was made before…" Blair stopped, took a deep breath and blurted. "How long? I mean, I was aware that I had become reluctant to return to the University, and that leaving your side was the cause of it, but until I saw Megan handling what was not hers to touch, I didn't truly understand why. But from your words, it seems you have had your finger on the crux of the matter for some time."

For a moment, Jim considered softening the truth, but that would be an insult to Blair's courage. "I have been sure of my heart since the first time you came to me. I have been certain of your gifts since you met Minzimtah. Blair, only a true guide and shield companion could have met her mind to mind the way you did. It is only that you did not comprehend the meaning of the exchange of energy between you."

"Ah." Blair frowned, thinking it through. "That was why you attempted to distance yourself from me after the last act of the Court. But the Elderkin interfered by assisting me in locating you."

"Their hope was that I would be unable to resist claiming you as my guide." Jim smiled bitterly. "Fortunately, you were composed enough to make rational choices for both of us. By stating your intentions clearly, you gave them no leverage to compel you into service beyond what you offered."

"They would have… of course." Blair stopped himself tiredly. "Why do I persist in wishing them perfect when they've shown they are as fallible as any sapient being must be?"

"For the same reason there are so may Faithful?" Jim suggested, weary of the conversation and more than willing to turn to more agreeable pastimes. "Because it is so much easier on the mind and spirit to believe that there is an authority beyond our own capable of correcting all the mistakes we make and rewarding us for proper behavior."

"I believe in a higher power," Blair said very seriously. "I simply do not think that our feeble human intelligence is capable of truly understanding it."

He stopped to kiss Jim thoroughly and completely until Jim forgot everything but that he wanted Blair again, and in a more comfortable place than on the floor in front of the entrance to their home. Before he could act on that half-formed decision, however, Blair drew away until his mouth was scarcely touching Jim's.

"After all, here we are, for however long we may have, and it is far, far more than many ever are granted. I refuse to wither and weep over a loss that is not done as yet. I have no idea how we manage, but we will not be parted."

"Blair…" Jim began warningly.

Lips against his, Blair asked, "May I declare myself with no penalty to our status with the Elderkin?"

"Yes. The oaths are on my honor," Jim answered, wondering where Blair's agile mind was going.

"Good." Blair sighed into his mouth, "Mine. Always."

It was folly and obstinacy and pure Blair to make a promise that he could not make good on, but despite it all, Jim warmed to the coldest extremes of his heart. Murmuring Blair's name as if it were a prayer, he wrapped his arms around him, and consigned the pain of loss to the future, where it belonged.

***

Cautiously Blair placed on fingertip on the glass in front of him, still amazed at the marvel of a surface that could be both a window and mirror, depending on the side from which it was used. Jim had assured him that it was easily done and that the sound-proofing that accompanied it was far more difficult for a variety of reasons. Regardless, though he had been on both sides of the mirror himself, even understood the principal and example Jim had given him, it was more of a wonder than the simple fact that the Elderkin and liegemen had created this, put it in place in the store room he stood in now, all in the small hours of the night, and none were the wiser for it.

He was, he knew, distracting himself from why the marvel had been wrought, but he thought it a harmless bit of diversion, if it kept the tremors wreaking havoc in his stomach from disturbing his composure. Otherwise he might find himself pounding at the glass as if he could reach through the barrier and thrash the people playing cards and drinking strong spirits he spied upon. Laying a hand on his arm, Jim silently told him that he had had enough of the crude, violent men on the other side of the glass as well these past months, but that this evening's work was not for them.

Blair looked over his shoulder at the other occupants of the room, somewhat relieved they looked as disgusted as he felt. Simon was the exception, but he had had a turn at observing the conspirators and knew what to expect. The Federal Marshals at either door were almost as impassive, with only the occasional grimace to mark their opinion of the proceedings. The Federal Judge Estavan Khoury, Councilwoman Marks, and Counselor Adkins of Seattle who had been brought in as an impartial third-party witness, so to speak, all looked appalled. The first two were upset at least as much because they had entertained Kincaid or his fellow conspirators in their homes as much as by the conversation assaulting their ears.

Frowning deeply, Judge Purdy said, "Enough! We have more than adequate evidence for our case. In fact, I would have been willing to sit for the trial based solely on the facts used to obtain the warrant for this surveillance."

"This is necessary to honor the conditions of the agreement between the District Attorney and the principal witness," Jim said quietly, but with unshakable authority. "Though our investigation led to him, thanks to Officer Conner, he volunteered his testimony without animosity when he learned how he'd been used."

"It's good of you to praise your fellow officer," Councilwoman Marks said, "though I don't understand what she did that was so critical to uncovering this plot against our government."

"Basically, she would not let me dismiss a well-timed query when I misjudged it as too personal," Blair confessed. "The Liegeman was probing the deaths of the hives of Beekeeper Midgeman, baffled as to what purpose deliberately destroying them could serve. Officer Conner asked how I came to know the Beekeeper, and if an attack against her might be an indirect attack against myself."

"When Student Sandburg became a gettle wrangler, it was the Beekeeper who assisted him with his duties at first," Jim put in. "Once asked if she had been approached in regards to her knowledge of the gettles, she identified our principal. He, in return, identified Leigh Bracket, the manager of Kincaid's freight line here in Cascade, as the person who persuaded him to question her on the conspiracy's behalf. Bracket led us here when he reported, within normal earshot, to Kincaid that a few more dead hives should suffice to convince the beekeeper to cooperate with them in their quest for the means to easily kill gettles in hopes the same methods could be used against the Elderkin."

Though there was no reason to include the information that Bracket had learned of Midgeman's aid to Blair through Maya Corsica, the woman who had accused him of false promises at the High Court, Blair could not stop a wince of guilt. Maya had apparently been seduced by Bracket for reasons of his own, but the villain had been quick to see her use where Blair was concerned. It still shocked him that Bracket and his cohorts had laid their plans so quickly, adapting quickly when the first attempt at gaining control over him failed.

"Yes, yes," the Judge said irritably, pulling Blair from his musings, as he'd heard the same account several times himself. "How much longer must we listen to this, this treason?"

"The marshals have executed the arrest warrants issued," Simon said calmly. "Those who succumbed to Kincaid's blandishments and supported his cause, but did not actively act treasonously - youngsters, most of them, with too much ready cash and free time - will be here shortly. Those who can be directly linked to treasonous acts who are not currently present, such as the so-called gentleman who provided the equipment used to mist the petroleum distillate to destroy the hives, are already awaiting arraignment."

"Those young men and women can be rehabilitated," Blair said earnestly. He'd already convinced the Elderkin of the value of his plan, and didn't really need the officials in Cascade to agree with him. Still, the long term effects of it were likely to be far-reaching, and he had no idea if he would need their support at a later date.

"Kincaid played to their inborn need to feel as if their life were important, that they were special," Blair went on. "They've never witnessed the deprivation and depravity of the Old World and don't want to believe that humanity can be as cruel as they've been told. He convinced them that the Elderkin paint us worse than we are as an excuse to rule us."

"Liegeman," the Judge said curiously, "I have not heard your opinion of this notion of a short-term exile done in servitude to whatever menial post can be found."

Blandly, Jim said, "The sentinels and guides of the Settlement do so as a matter of course in the belief that if we see the worse that humanity has to offer, the harder we will fight to protect the Americas. It is remarkably effective."

"You might want that bandied about a bit," Counselor Adkins said. "Otherwise it is going to look as if the offspring of Cascade's gentry are being given special consideration."

"Which is why Student Sandburg is agitating to make it common practice among all Cascade's youth," Simon put in dryly.

Not at all abashed at how ambitious the scheme was, Blair said, "If it proves useful, I will be encouraging other communities to participate in similar programs, including yours, Counselor. Most believe that travel is broadening. It should not be difficult to persuade parents that doing so in the lap of luxury teaches nothing but indolence and inappropriate airs of superiority, such as the young people involved in this conspiracy are afflicted with."

It seemed to him that the counselor was preparing to debate the point, but a scuffle at the outside door distracted them all from the conversation. Federal Marshals escorted five young people - two women and three men - into the room, holding them at gunpoint. From the fear and worry on most expressions, the weapons might have been unnecessary, but the Blair had convinced the others that a bit of theater would drive home their point.

Only one of them, a young lady name Claire Parks, was still angry and rebellious. "Where are we? What gave you the right to drag us out of our homes and bring us here?"

"You," Jim said blandly, "Are under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason." Even Parks flushed guiltily, though they had already heard the charges against them when they were first taken. "As for your location, which your parents and solicitors have been informed of and agreed to permit your presence, you are in one of the storage rooms of Leigh Bracket's gaming house." Jim gestured to the mirror. "He does not know we are here; he does not know that you have been taken into custody.

"As for why you are here… He and those with him will be arrested very shortly for high treason. If convicted, and with the evidence against them, I doubt they will be pronounced not-guilty, they will be executed. The same fate awaits you if you are implicated in their actions."

It was difficult to hear the gasps of horror and sudden sobbing, but Blair hardened himself to the display. Even Miss Parks wilted considerably, though she muttered, "We did naught but agree with a philosophy that many espouse."

"That the Elderkin should be driven from their home, if not destroyed utterly, so that man may rule supreme?" Blair said disparagingly. He caught Jim's signal that the conversation beyond the mirror had turned to Bracket's recount of how well his plans were progressing. If he used the same language and manner as he usually did, Miss Marks and the others were in for a shock. He nodded at Bracket. "Perhaps you should hear his opinion of who is or isn't fit to rule."

Miss Parks looked as if she would refuse, but the next moment Bracket was heard to say clearly, "I've actually considered marrying the cow myself, as the Parks have been very discreetly accumulating quite the inheritance for her. It would be easy enough for her to die from, say, childbirth or some common ailment once they were gone."

"That's above and beyond," Kincaid laughed. "I'd bet that Miss Slut would be more entertaining, if not as profitable."

"That would be you, Miss Evers," Blair said aside softly, with true sorrow at the sudden flush of humiliation in her expression.

"Nay, Master Slut gets that honor," Bracket laughed back. "The boy is so terribly sincere in his worship of me that he would agree to setting fire to his own home if he thought it would further my 'cause.' He came through so admirably for me on that bit of trouble with Winston that I've been thinking of throwing him a bone of some sort."

Thomas Sidman blushed in shame and found the floor fascinating at Bracket's statement, making it obvious to any present who the man had been referring to.

In the next room, Bracket went on. "What say you? Perhaps create a title or medal that the limp-wristed fop might hug to himself in all his self-importance?"

"Heavens, no, then the rest of the beggars will be clamoring for treats, like the mindless dogs they are," Kincaid said, to raucous laughter from all those at the table.

"Imagine," said Valquier, whose role, Blair had learned, was to be Kincaid's spokesmen among the teamsters when necessary. "Those brats actually thinking they are our equals, deserving of a special place in the new regime once the lizards are gone."

"Do you really need to hear any more?" Jim asked with surprising gentleness to the assembled. "You have never been more to these traitors than tools of Man's Curse. You have very conveniently forgotten that the Elderkin do not care how we rule ourselves; only that all be treated fairly under that government. Do you really think that overturning our democracy will benefit anyone but those who are greedy for power and control?"

"Our so-called democracy is a sham, a front for the liz… dra… Elderkin," Parks said stoutly, but her eyes flicked back to Bracket, colored with a different sort of fury now.

Blair nodded understandingly. "I'm sure whatever arguments I might use to debate that issue will be countered by the lies Kincaid and Bracket have perpetrated on you. So I will not try." He turned to the Judge and the others. "Will you inform them of the arrangement negotiated on their behalf with the Elderkin in hopes they will learn the value of the standards they live under?"

"If you stand trial with Kincaid and the rest of his conspirators," Judge Purdy said formally. "You will most likely be sentenced to exile, though the court may be lenient enough to allow your families to support you in your new home, wherever that may be. If you submit to voluntary, temporary exile, now, there will be no trial, no public disgrace for your families, and the possibility of return to your homes here once you have served your term. You will have to work for your living while in exile, but posts have been secured for you in reputable homes with persons of good character."

Jim went on alert, hand going to his weapon, attracting the Judge's attention and warning all present that the last of the arrests were about to be made. Hastily he finished, "You have until your arraignment to decide if you wish to accept this extraordinary proposal. Offered, I might add, at the behest of the Elderkin, at Student Sandburg's suggestion."

Unsurprised at the glares aimed his way, all Blair could do was hope that once the youngsters stopped viewing themselves as martyrs, they would realize the value of the opportunity they'd been given. He had no doubt that their families would, immediately, and that they would pressure their offspring to be sensible. Once they were in the care of those Blair had lined up for them - all old friends of Naomi's who would see to their safety and enlightenment - they were on their own as whether they would earn their return to the Americas or remain in exile.

Parks clenched and unclenched her fists, taking a single step toward Blair. She stopped at when he only gazed at her compassionately, with no trace of pity. "You deserve better than Bracket," he murmured. "Even if you accept that he cares not for you, and believe that your feelings will suffice despite his lack."

Confused, she looked away, gasping as the door to the other room was kicked open.

At the shout of "Marshals! Don't Move!" the rats with two legs proved their true nature. Cards, glasses of whiskey, cigars - whatever was in hand - were thrown at the men and women boiling through the door with their weapons drawn. The felons dove to the floor, grasping for guns and knives, scuttling for whatever meager cover the furniture might provide. With nothing left to lose, they fought with grim determination, firing wildly as they launched themselves toward whatever exit was closest.

Flinching at the shots along with the other witnesses to the melee, Blair said reassuringly, "The bullets cannot penetrate here; we're safe."

Before he could add that the door was locked, Miss Parks threw herself at it, fumbling open the latch before anyone could reach her. Whether her intent was to rescue Bracket or attack him herself, it was impossible to tell in the heat of the moment, nor did it really matter in the long run. Bracket burst through even as she reached for the knob.

Reacting to the unexpected occupancy of his store room by grabbing Miss Parks by the waist to use her for a shield, he held his gun to her head. Everyone went still, though no lawman lowered the weapons they had automatically raised at the intrusion. Backing into the corner farthest from the group, he flashed an assessing gaze around the room, pausing for a moment at the sight of the alteration to the premises.

Snarling at the realization that all his plans had come to nothing, Bracket said, "I get out of here or she dies. Now get out of my way."

Deferring to the liegeman by some alchemy Blair could not guess, the marshals stood their ground as Jim took a single step forward. "Put the gun down and live," he said simply. "Harm your hostage, and die instantly."

"I'm dead anyway for treason."

"Ah, then you are seeking a fast death. I can promise that if you release the girl. If not, I can see to it that you suffer for days before you go to your grave." The emptiness of Jim's tone, in Blair's opinion, as much as the common knowledge that liegemen and marshals never negotiated for hostages for the sake of the lives that would be lost if the criminals went free to do more harm, stole what little bravado Bracket had mustered.

Eyes wild, Bracket insultingly groped at Miss Parks' breast. "May as well enjoy myself before I go, then! Come get me and see how much damage I can do to this cow before we're all dead."

Without a word of warning, Jim fired, bullet creasing Bracket's head. Howling, Bracket jerked, gun hand flailing backwards. At the same moment, Miss Parks clawed along the arm holding her, the shirt no protection against her long nails. Jim fired again, this time into Bracket's shoulder, rendering the limb on that side useless. Dropping his revolver, Bracket slumped, barely remaining on his feet.

Spinning in his hold, Miss Parks swiped at his eyes, eliciting another howl, as Jim shot him yet again. Ever after Blair would wonder if Miss Parks had anticipated the next shot, for her blow staggered Bracket, and the bullet meant for his other shoulder went into his heart. He fell to the floor, and she kicked him in the head.

Muttering, "Even a cow can be dangerous if maddened," she kicked him again, but was forestalled from any further violence by Blair's calming hand on her forearm. Startled, she stared at him, but then burst into noisy, messy tears. Blair led her to one of the female marshals, giving custody over to her.

Shaking his head, Jim dropped to a knee to be sure of Bracket's death, then went to the door to join the battle on the other side. To Blair's amazement, it still raged, as the struggle to contain Bracket had taken scant moments. Ducking low, Jim dove into the next room, firing as he went, those marshals not occupied with prisoners at his heels. With the conspirators caught between him and the lawmen, the fight ended quickly.

There were few survivors, none un-injured, and several of the marshals were wounded, as well. Jim went from lawman to healer in a blink, much to the bemusement of everyone except Blair, who already had first aid supplies on hand. Explaining how to apply pressure to an injury, Jim did a headcount of the occupants, obviously assessing how much attention each should require.

As Jim pointed out Kincaid lying in a pool of blood, the man suddenly lunged to his feet and raced to the entrance to the store room. Already nervy from the encounter with Bracket, the witnesses and the young conspirators scattered, the latter contrarily into the arms of the marshals assigned to them. Though lawmen, both on the inside and the outside gave chase, Kincaid had enough speed and surprise on his side to escape cleanly.

Tracking him by scent and print proved nearly impossible for Jim, thanks to the late summer's heat giving rise to a rancid miasma and Cascade's inevitable rains. Pain gouging lines in his face, he managed until the trail led into a bakery where Kincaid's clothes were found and the smell of vanilla extract overrode the majority of other odors. Jim tried to follow the vanilla itself, but it was simply too pervasive a scent and masked the natural essence of a human too well.

Jaw muscle jumping frenetically, Jim surrendered his attempt only when Blair intervened with a careful hand on his arm. "Come. There is one last act left to witness this evening. We must be present or give rise to rumors that our motives are less than pure."

"Rumor does not trouble me," Jim said placidly enough, "Save that I will not have it used as a weapon to undo the good we have accomplished. Rather, I wish to be able to counter any argument given when it is given, blocking a motion for a mistrial at a later date based on prejudicial evidence."

"I would think the motive behind such a claim would be too obvious for any judge to seriously entertain it." Blair did not press his point, well aware that Jim's arguments were based more on remote contingencies than probabilities.

Keeping his own council on that, he followed Jim to the courthouse, which was exceedingly busy given the hour of the day. Word of a Federal Judge holding preliminary hearings for counts of treasons had brought out the idle curious and news people, giving the grand old building an usually lively air. Ignoring the crowd and bustle, Jim made his way to the main courtroom and took the place usually reserved for a liegeman or his representative.

By common consent of the various attorneys and the judge involved, each person stood accused on their own, instead of a single hearing for all the conspirators. The first few of the accused put in their 'not guilty' pleas without fuss or fanfare, clearly believing that a public trial would be to their benefit. That was self-delusion, Blair knew; the evidence was simply too overwhelming.

Several of the latter cases apparently agreed with him on that, accepting the alternative of a judge's decision in hopes of leniency. They were scheduled for a hearing a few weeks hence, leaving only those who had agreed for whatever reasons to plead guilty. Most were sentenced to exile; a few were given the death penalty because of the loss of life from their plots, to Blair's regret.

Whoever had worked up the case roster must have hoped that spectators would not have the patience to wait until the end of the proceedings for the hearing against William Ellison. If that was the case, Blair decided, the strategy had succeeded. When Ellison, Senior stood in front of the judge, head high and pride intact, only those involved in the case were on hand.

William listened expressionlessly to the charges read against him, then said firmly, "Not guilty. This is a travesty of the law, with no basis in reality other than the ego of the resident liegeman."

"We have multiple witnesses that place you in the company of the conspirators already charged, judged and exiled, not to mention testimony from the conspirators themselves. Do you deny that you supported their cause?" Judge Khoury looked tired and not a little bored, to Blair's mind.

Ignoring the shushing gesture from his lawyer, William snapped, "We have freedom of speech and assembly in this country, sir. Who I choose to keep company with and what we spoke about is no one's business but ours."

"Agreed." Khoury said, startling his defendant somewhat, telling Blair that Ellison, Senior had not thought his defense through completely, or listened to his lawyer at all. "However, when discussion turns into action, even if only in the form of providing funds, conspiracy to commit treason becomes a viable charge. You should be aware, sir, that Kincaid and Bracket not only keep records of what sums were bestowed and by whom, but they were fond of bragging about the details to other, less savory men of their acquaintance. Unfortunately for you, your name was bandied about quite indiscriminately."

"And my word is nothing against those traitors?" William said, all affronted dignity and pride, his lawyer subsiding when William shot him a look of pure contempt.

"Perhaps you should not have kept your own books on such things," the Judge returned evenly, and Blair had to hide a wry smirk at how casually he delivered that information. William Ellison had probably thought his hiding place too clever for any to discover.

William blanched, but that did not stop Judge Khoury from picking up a ledger to refer to it. "Specifically, you provided the financial backing for the plan to incite rebellion against the government by insuring that Cascade burned because of Man's Curse. While you and your son were safely on your way to Seattle, your co-conspirators hired men to attack the Liegeman, to act as agitators to rouse a mob, and to bear false witness against the Court itself to turn the Elderkin's judgment against the city. The loss of life from that plan has earned or will likely earn the death penalty for others for their callous disregard of human life."

"You cannot hold a man responsible for what another does with money freely given," William said haughtily.

"Legally, no. Morally, that is another matter, but not an issue for this court. However, you knowingly contributed to the bounty for the capture and destruction of a live gettle for purposes of discovering viable methods to murder the Elderkin. In addition, not only did you provide funds for the kidnapping attempt on Liegeman Blevins of the Eugene area, but the suggestion to do so was yours, based on the knowledge the gentleman was about to retire. Your own notes on that, sir, indicate that you encouraged the others in the belief that would make him careless and less dangerous."

Judge Khoury paused to look up from the ledger. "I imagine you were quite surprised when there were no survivors from the assault party."

"That book is false evidence," William spat out, predictably, Blair thought. "Planted by the Liegeman in order to press a claim on my estate when I am exiled."

Putting down the book, the Judge folded his hands in front of himself. "I am aware there is a blood relationship between yourself and Liegeman Ellison. He told me himself when he recused himself from your case when the facts began to lead him and the other officers to your door. At no time has he been involved in the gathering of evidence, and special care has been taken every step of the way to ensure that no tampering was possible. Most key elements of the case against you were gathered in the presence of impartial witnesses."

"I… I…" William spluttered, face going red, and Blair wondered if he were in danger of an apoplexic attack.

"At the time," the judge went on, unperturbed, "I had thought the Liegeman was protecting himself against accusations of tampering to protect you. Now I cannot help but wonder what lies between you that you would attempt to paint him an oath breaker and corrupt lawman."

Fighting for a condescending tone and obtaining it with only a bit edge, William said, "It's not unheard of for a man to bear a grudge against his parents for what he perceived as unfair treatment when he was a child. Most often with little or no basis in fact and based on a child's exaggerated perceptions. And if I am exiled, he will inherit at least a portion of my wealth."

"In fact, he cannot, as he gave up all rights to such things when he took his oath as liegeman, and has already provided me with a sworn affidavit voluntarily renouncing all possible claims that he might have in the future."

What little composure William Ellison had left faded under the contempt in the Judge's words and the utter silence of the court room. Just as it should be, Blair thought fiercely.

With a wave of his hand the Judge dismissed the sidebar. "Do you wish to maintain your innocence given the body of evidence against you?"

This time the lawyer would not be dissuaded, and he whispered frantically into William Ellison's ear, ignoring the half-formed protests William made. After only a moment or two, Ellison pulled himself together and drew to his full height. Not looking the least remorseful, he announced that he would plead guilty and accept the Judge's sentence.

Before Khoury could speak, Jim stood, the first movement he'd made since William Ellison had been brought in. As Blair expected, Jim's face was the definition of stoic; his voice so empty of expression that it would have been easy for any casual observer to believe he had no interest in the outcome of the hearing at all. He waited patiently for Khoury's acknowledgement, stepping up the bench when he received a nod of recognition.

"Your Honor," Jim said formally. "William Ellison has a son, Steven, who was left a small trust by his mother at her passing. Though William could not access the funds himself, he has control over the dispensing of the inheritance, and has steadfastly refused to allow Stephen access to the accounts. I would request that the court mandate the release of that inheritance before sentence is pronounced, avoiding the possibility of those monies being liquidated as part of William Ellison's assets."

"There, you see," William burst out. "That's how he's scheming to get his hands on my wealth."

"Oh, hush, you old fool," Khoury said tiredly. "He's being a liegeman and seeing that your son has a choice besides exile with you. As Stephen has not been implicated in your plot, there is no reason for him to leave the Americas unless that is his wish."

Blair thought that William might actually explode from frustration and wrath on the spot. It was obvious that he had made contingency plans in case of the exposure of the conspiracy and that trust was at the heart of them. He couldn't help a bit of satisfaction that he had been instrumental in thwarting those designs, perhaps rescuing Stephen from his father's servitude.

"It's a chance for him," Blair murmured, without intending to speak aloud, as William was pulled away by bailiffs.

"It is the least he deserves from me after I abandoned him to his father's unloving care," Jim whispered back as he rejoined him, his sorrow audible only to Blair. "I had thought that my absence would remove at least a portion of the duress to please his father. Instead it only made William more determined than ever to bend Stephen to his will."

"And if you had remained," Blair said fiercely, latching tightly onto Jim's upper arm until he met his eyes, "You might not have survived his charge at all. You could have never been molded to his image of what he believes his son should be. Sooner or later that would have driven him to destroy you."

At Jim's start of surprise, Blair smiled at him. "The proof is in the failure of the attempt to replace me as your guide. If he had simply accepted your preferences instead of insisting to himself that no son of his would dally with another male, the strategy might have worked. As it was, he insisted on throwing women at you, who you blithely side-stepped until you were able to uncover the plot."

Returning the smile, albeit bemusedly, Jim said, "That is a great deal to extrapolate from my bedroom inclinations."

"Nonsense," Blair said heartily. He used his hold on Jim to tug him toward the exit, ready for the long, long day to be over. "That is the one of the most basic components of personality. If his prejudices and convictions could not influence you in that department, you would have as readily resisted any that would have contradicted the instincts that make you a sentinel and liegeman. His history of destroying what he could not control indicates a high probability that he would have 'accidentally' killed you while disciplining you."

They reached the cool shelter of the darkness outside, and Jim paused in one pool of shadow, turning to face Blair. "You make all the choices that led me to this uniform, this life, sound so inevitable. It does not feel that way. It feels… precarious, tenuous, subject to the whims of forces I can never hope to understand."

Boldly Blair cupped Jim's cheek in his palm. "Perhaps it is both. All I am certain of is that you did what was necessary to survive, as did Stephen. Without his father's influence driving him, perhaps now he will see you again as his brother and not his rival and allow you to give him the aid you could not when you were both boys."

Jim let the weight of his head rest briefly in Blair's care, but drew away all too soon, as had increasingly been his habit of late. "Perhaps. In the meantime, Kincaid is still on the loose, and while we have solved the mystery of how he and his cohorts knew so much about me, personally, I am still at a loss to explain how he acquired so much information on sentinels. More, he made effective use of the intelligence."

Resigned Blair returned to duty. "No doubt we will discover that as well during our search for Kincaid. His conceit on his own superiority is such that he will reveal himself through his actions sooner rather than late."

"I do not intend to wait for his pleasure," Jim snapped. He bit down hard on more harsh words, then said more evenly, "There is no need for you to join me in pursuit this evening. It is late and you should seek your bed."

"Not without you," Blair said calmly.

"There is no need…."

"You rest, I rest. You hunt, I hunt. Or are you casting aspersions on my ability to do what is necessary to apprehend that villain? May I remind you I have personal reasons for wishing to see the back of him, permanently?" It was a foul trick to use Jim's concern for Blair against him, but Blair was not above any deed fair or foul that would see to the care of his sentinel. Jim was pushing himself far too relentlessly; Blair did not need light to see the harsh lines of exhaustion and pain in his face.

To Blair's surprise, Jim brushed his fingertips along Blair's jaw. "It is pointless to debate this with you, is it not?"

"Yes."

"In that case, it is late, and sleep will give me a clearer head for this puzzle." Jim lifted a hand to hail a passing cab. "What? Cannot I be reasonable, simply as change of pace?"

Laughing, Blair said smartly, "Be careful. It may become a habit."

"Heaven forbid."

Between them they held onto the lighter attitude until the next morning when both were swept back into the search for Kincaid. As the cool autumn days wound toward winter, though, and he remained at large, merry times became a distant memory that Blair occasionally felt were more dream than reality. Other matters arose that required their attention, forcibly relegating the problem of Kincaid to what small free time they could muster.

One such problem was the ship that arrived at the harbor with its entire crew replaced by Chinese nationals who promptly jumped ship and attempted to vanish into Cascade's oriental population. While Blair sought to convince the Elderkin that the appropriate action was to take retaliation on Chinese ships at a distance from any port, to save face for the Emperor, Jim and others of Major Crimes ferreted out the would-be invaders. It wasn't the first time such a tactic had been used in an attempt by a foreign government to gain a toe-hold in the Americas, but Blair sincerely believed it might be the last by the Emperor if they took his goods and ships but left his crews alive.

If that was not enough to keep Blair moving at full speed from one hour to the next, more and more frequently without Jim at his side, his advisors and teachers at the university began to exert subtle pressure to return to his scholarly ways. They sent messages or dropped by in person to praise previous work and to enquire why he had stopped sending his long missives filled with observations and theories on the changes wrought by the high court. Professional journals and other publications that had published articles he had written based on his experiences requested follow-up pieces, almost unheard of in academia, and prompted by Rainier itself, according to one editor.

Despite that, Blair threw every delaying tactic at the University that was available, short of removing his name from the journeyman roster. He officially requested an extension of his sabbatical, citing the still on-going processes resulting from the High Court and the need to collect more data. Visitors from Rainier were cheerfully greeted, then just as cheerfully left to fend for themselves as he raced whatever errand he could create for himself. Letters from the university went unanswered, and the last one, thick, with the Chancellor's own name on it, went into the fire unopened.

It was foolish, he knew, to pretend that he could postpone his return to the University indefinitely, but at the very least he had to prolong the process as much as he could. Blair mentioned none of his tactics to Jim and felt no guilt for it at all. There had been far too many nights when he had awakened to find Jim holding him tightly, face buried between Blair's shoulder blades, panting for air as if he'd run for miles.

The nightmares responsible for Jim's condition were all the same - Blair dying at Jim's hand. It took no expert in psychiatry to understand that Jim felt it would be a kind of murder if Blair became his guide instead of taking up a professorial cap. Yet every day they spent together professionally and privately increased the risk that the Elderkin would discover where their hearts lay and force a decision on them.

In a way, that would have been a relief. Though he and Jim made no effort to hide what they felt from their friends and those they worked with, the strain of remaining silent, of not crossing that final physical barrier, took its toll on them. Their intimacy became hesitant and restrained to the point they hardly touched at all. To make matters worse, Blair was increasingly uncertain that it was right to hold himself apart from Jim, no matter what the reason.

The evening he opened the door to their loft home and found a courier from the University on the other side with an envelope for him, Blair knew he could no longer postpone the inevitable. Jim appeared behind the young man, eyes going remote and cold when he read the address. He pivoted on his heel to leave, but Blair reached past the lad to snag him, begging Jim with all his heart in his expression to not be left alone just yet. Melting fractionally, Jim let himself be pulled inside and went to stand by the doors to the balcony while Blair signed for the letter and tipped the courier.

For the longest time Blair turned the heavy parchment envelope over and over in his hands, debating throwing it into the fire like the other. Before he could formulate an excuse for the destruction of the letter, Jim gently encircled Blair's wrists from behind, stilling his restless motion. He took the envelope and opened it himself, giving the contents to Blair before wrapping his arms around Blair's waist.

A fine tremor began somewhere in Blair's middle and grew to out-and-out shaking as he skimmed the missive. "I don't believe this; it's just not possible."

"They're offering to give you a teaching position immediately, provisional upon finishing your journeyman paper within a year of signing your contract," Jim murmured, assimilating the information himself. "I take it this is not the usual procedure for summoning a student back to his studies."

"Not in the slightest," Blair mumbled, breaking away to pace. "First you submit proposals, one after the other until your advisor finds one acceptable, then you provide preliminary data supporting the feasibility of the one chosen, then produce secondary sources to support your proposal, then create an outline, then a first chapter, then a first draft, then you present the completed work, and you do battle with your advisor and committee over each step, changing the work constantly until you have a product that no one likes but everyone approves."

Waving the letter in the air, he stopped walking to rant. "According to this I will not even be required to present the paper. I merely have to complete it, and it is not even of importance which of the three preliminary offerings I put forward I choose to complete. A proposition such as this is unheard of, astonishing in the extreme. The only precedent I know of is when a well-respected, sought after scholar from another country immigrates here and wishes a degree conferred on him to give him legitimate standing in our educational system."

"It would seem to me," Jim said slowly, taking advantage of Blair's necessary pause for air, "that Rainier is unwilling to risk the brightest jewel in their crown currently to the offer of a better position at a more prestigious school."

"I am not that important to the academic world," Blair blurted.

"Student Sandburg may not be, but Blair Sandburg, savior of Cascade, friend to the Elderkin, known throughout the Americas for his courage and excellent character, is." Jim approached him carefully, as if he were a skittish horse. "You told me yourself how important outside contacts are to the existence of a university. Rainier should be able to traffic on your accomplishments for some years to come."

"Oh." Blair sat abruptly on the settee, knees no longer capable of supporting him. "Yes. I would be. A very. Ah. Valuable commodity for them. Wouldn't I?"

"That is a mercenary way of seeing the proposition, yes. Another view would be that you are now in the position of being able to repay all those who had faith in you when you began your studies."

"There is that," Blair admitted weakly.

Jim lovingly cupped Blair's shoulders in his palms. "It is an extraordinary honor reflecting the extraordinary circumstances you found yourself in when you chose to coax a liegeman into tempering his Justice. One that you more than deserve."

"The cost of it is too dear to me," Blair said, dread building in his middle to painful proportions. "I am not ready to sacrifice all that I have here for what waits for me in the ivy towers of Rainier."

A sudden idea surfaced, and he caught Jim by the elbows to pull him down to sit beside him, twisting so they could be face to face. "Nor must I! There is no rule that states I must bide on the campus while in their employ, and the writing is also a just cause to cry for a light class load initially. In fact, it usually takes several years to produce a publishable manuscript, but I should need only a few months with all I have already scribbled, and I can remain with you, doling out portions as necessary to keep the Dean appeased."

For a moment Jim closed his eyes, but not before Blair caught a glimpse of the devastation in them. When he met Blair's gaze steadily, though, there was only sorrow and a sort of grim resolve that magnified the ache in Blair's belly. Jim captured one of Blair's curls, twined it around his finger, opened his mouth to speak, shut it, released the curl, and ran his hands down the length of Blair's arms to entwine their fingers. The procrastination, minor as it was, did nothing to alleviate Blair's distress.

"It would be better if you simply left, Blair."

"What? No! What we share is worth a few inconveniences, worth fighting for."

"Yes, and we have done so magnificently until now." Jim leaned forward until his forehead was touching Blair's. "But this has always been a battle we knew we would ultimately lose, and now is the time to retire from the field to heal our wounds and struggle on another day."

"Not yet! There's time…"

"What will you sacrifice for those hours you wish to give to me?" Jim asked all too reasonably. "Will you halt your endeavors to moderate the Elderkin's decisions, as you have in the case of the Chinese incursion? Or will it be your campaign to change the school curriculum that you will abandon to the wayside? You propose to take on even more responsibilities, more demands of your time and attention, and there is only so much of you to portion out."

"I swear, I swear I will give you the lion's share," Blair said frantically, hearing the truth in Jim's words, but not ready to admit it as yet. "All those other tasks can be left to others; you are more important than any of them. I will devote myself to you and to the University in such a way that it will be no different than any married couple with separate professions sharing a life."

"And if the Elderkin ask you why? And they will, sooner rather than late. Incacha already suspects that you are my guide and has kept his own counsel out of his fondness for me."

When Blair would have interrupted to present his arguments, Jim kissed him lightly. "Listen to me, please. Drawing out the pain of our parting over the course of months while you attempt to satisfy impossible demands of yourself is not right for either of us. A clean break that allows us to mend more quickly is kinder to us both."

Without warning the ache transmuted to a fury more pure and virulent than Blair had known he was capable of feeling. "You would prefer to retreat like a coward, then? How deep and substantial your feelings must be for me if you can so easily say,' nay, enough!' You must be grateful for the restrictions the Elderkin have laid on your tongue so you may keep your honor clear by the expediency of having never spoken of them."

To his horror, Jim only sighed. "As angry as you are now, how angry will you be with me if you should let your future, much cherished and labored for, slip through your grasp because of a man who can give you no promises, nor offer you the very thing you berate me for withholding? I am only human, Blair, and the likelihood of falling into an error that will put an end to all your hopes of a professorial cap grows greater with every day we dwell together. How much bile will you heap on me if that should occur?"

Blair tore away from Jim, scrambling over the back of the settee to put distance between them. "That is all speculation, probabilities that can be minimized, and until this very moment I thought the risk was more than justified by what we have together. It is becoming very obvious to me that you do not value my company or affections near as much as I thought. Certainly not enough to extend yourself in the manner that I am more than willing to exert myself for you."

Jaw muscle throbbing dangerously, Jim said with a calm that did not add to Blair's composure, "I have treated you honorably from the first, speaking of the restraints placed on my life and those involved in it in as forthright a manner as possible. You cannot hold me responsible that you did not take my words to heart. You were the one who declaimed in the beginning of ever having a future with me, as I recall."

"An attitude that most likely suited you eminently as it relieved you of all accountability for your actions toward me. How fortunate you are that you will always have the excuse of the Elderkin to be certain that you will never have to commit to a human being!"

Blair heard the words leave his mouth, horrified at the venom in them and the rage that prompted them. His conscience screamed at him at the injustice of his accusations, but not loudly enough to beat back his rage. Even worse allegations hovered at his lips, waiting for the opportunity to spew out onto Jim to inflict a worse pain on him than what Blair felt.

Before he could further betray himself and the great heart that had held him precious until Blair tarnished himself with his malice, Blair spun on his heel and ran for the door. He had no idea what his destination could be or what he would say to any that might see him in his haste, but did not that deter him from his flight. In the end he found himself at the stable in Ften's stall, huddled against the massive horse for both warmth and comfort.

He wanted to cry or destroy or tear at himself, but all he could do was shiver and chase his own thoughts in never ending circles of confusion. Finally fatigue claimed him, and he trudged back home, unsurprised to find Jim gone. Despite the late hour - or early, if he wished to use that perspective - he washed and changed then left himself to start the day. His first appointments and tasks were far away from Major Crimes, which he saw as a blessing until he acknowledged to himself how many days of late had been spent in just that way.

Regardless of the guilt, it was nearly the end of Jim's usual work hours before Blair wearily climbed the stairs to Major Crimes. To his shock, several deputies hailed him with congratulations on his position with the University that were both sincere and sorrowful. The same happened when he took his place at Jim's desk, with Simon coming out personally to speak to him. It was obvious that while everyone truly wished him the best, they were all downhearted by his departure. More than one colleague suggested playfully or diplomatically or worriedly that he could always return to the University at a later date after a few more years service to Cascade.

To Blair's ear it was obvious they did not understand the height of the honor he had been offered, but he did not enlighten Simon or the others. He merely fielded the propositions in the same vein that they were given, trying to project a cheery, celebratory air. The falseness of it wore on him, but he held onto his facade determinedly until the others began to file out to go home for the evening.

Catching Simon by the arm at the door, Blair caught everyone's attention with a soft but penetrating whistle. When all eyes were on him, he said, "As you know my mother is traveling in Europe with no plans to return to Cascade until next spring. There is a ceremony for new professors that their family is customarily invited to attend, as well as a reception afterwards. While you may not be interested in the first, I'm sure the plentiful food and drink at the latter will more than compensate for the dry speeches from various academics. I would be… pleased and touched if you consent to attend as my surrogate family."

He swallowed hard on unexpected tears, realizing for the first time that it wasn't only his place with Jim that he would be surrendering when he returned to the University. His doubts that he was acting right fully resurfaced, but he quashed them nevertheless. Though his hesitation was noticed, no one remarked on it, and both Joel and Megan blinked away brightness from their eyes. "I have no way to express the gratitude I feel for the acceptance I've met while sharing your duties, your trials and tribulations. I can only say, 'thank you,' dear friends and pray that you will always feel free to seek me out, no matter my walk of life."

Emotions gripping him too tightly to deny them any longer, Blair turned and fled, but not before he overheard Joel say plaintively, "That sounded like a goodbye - a final one."

Once he reached the street, Blair abruptly ground to a halt. Undoubtedly Jim had not gone to their rooms and would likely avoid them and Blair until Blair resigned himself to his departure. That did not suit Blair at all; he, at least, had a few more things to say on the subject of bidding a permanent farewell. The question was where would Jim secrete himself, especially at night?

Reminded of the last time Jim had absconded unexpectedly, Blair absently rubbed the jewel in his earlobe, then froze as an idea leaped to the forefront. Jim had said that the Elderkin always knew Jim's location, and at least once, they had been willing to guide Blair to him. Perhaps they or Incacha would now?

Finding a wall to lean against, Blair closed his eyes and concentrated on seeing Jim in his mind's eye, thumb and forefinger on the earring. Instead of the pinch of heat, however, he suddenly knew as surely as he knew his name where he could find Jim. Not questioning his certainty, he raced for the water tower not far from their home, taking the stairs to the roof it sat on two at a time.

Curled into the deep shadow under the tower, Incacha lifted his head and regarded Blair silently, steadily as he approached. Jim was resting in the crook of the dragon's forearm, snug against his side and with a wing draped over him protectively. For a moment Blair believed that Jim only feigned sleep to avoid speaking with him, but before he could pounce on the supposed deceit, he sensed the stillness surrounding Incacha. As earlier when he had sought Jim, he simply understood that Jim was deeply under by some influence of Incacha's and would not wake unless the Elderkin willed it.

Incacha nodded as if he had read Blair's comprehension of the situation, then lifted his wing in blatant invitation to join Jim in the warmth and comfort cradling the sentinel. Never had any summons ever been so enticing, and while Blair longed for the peace and security it represented, he could not accept it. Some part of him would not relinquish the years of labor and sacrifice that had gone into his education.

Then too, a thread of self-doubt, strong as steel and impossible to ignore, cut through his confidence in his ability to be the guide that Jim required. Simply looking at the exhaustion in Jim's face even as he slumbered told Blair that he had not been successful to date. If he had met the terms of his original agreement with Jim, or simply been the attentive, considerate lover that Jim deserved, Jim would not have ended their relationship so easily. He would have fought to hold them together until Blair demanded that he cease if Jim had thought for a moment that he was what Blair truly wanted.

Heart seizing in his chest as if it would never beat again, Blair crept away, too ashamed to look back at the disappointment he knew he would see in Incacha. On leaden feet he went to the loft, worked through the night to pack his belongings, and left after arranging to have what he couldn’t carry shipped to Rainier. He arrived at the Personnel Office having gone without sleep for nearly forty-eight hours, received the necessary instructions for his arrival, and set the standard for the next few weeks by falling asleep face down on the bare mattress in his new quarters, fully clothed.

Blair slept as much as he could, whenever he could, well aware that it was not the healthiest thing he could do, but too unwilling to face the numbness of his spirit and heart to do differently. When awake, he threw himself pell mell into University life, attending meeting after meeting for purposes as direct to his needs as speaking with his advisor committee and as pointless as the planning committee for the spring freshman mixer. As his own class load would not begin until the next semester, he substituted whenever possible, even for classes not in his field, if he had enough of a background to convince the dean he was capable.

When not working, Blair socialized as madly as he worked. He renewed old acquaintances, created new ones, caught up on the faculty gossip and student news, and attended every party, coffee house chat, and impromptu gathering he could find. As one of the most infamous Students in Rainier's history, he had no shortage of invitations, nor did he lack for attention when out and about.

It was a measure of how distracted he kept himself that it was not until a casual comment from the organizer of his official reception that Blair realized that as popular as he was, few people wanted to hear about his experiences as a journeyman. The woman who had doubtless arranged countless other functions, was dumbfounded that Blair had actually invited anyone from outside his biological family, let alone individuals with no direct connection to Rainier. Walking back to his new office for morning consultation hours, he mentally reviewed every conversation he could remember since his return. Blair sat down hard on the nearest chair when he reached his work space as he saw the University and its population from an entirely new perspective.

Not hearing the clatter of students as they passed in the corridor, he finally understood that the faculty didn't care about his achievements outside academia. All they cared about, nicely for the most part but very much otherwise in several instances, was how his position would affect their own never-ending maneuvering for status in their hierarchy. The students were too wrapped up in their own concerns, like students everywhere Blair had to admit, to be interested in what he had accomplished except how he might apply it to the course work.

Wincing, hand going to his middle as if taking a blow, Blair acknowledged that, as significant as his analysis and commentary on the high court might be, it would not be valid in the eyes of his peers until it had acquired the patina of wisdom and authority that only time could bestow. While his colleagues respected the value of the knowledge itself, it was abstract to them, irrelevant to daily matters and the university itself. He was sure that if he had wanted to discuss his days in the larger world, they would listen, indulgently, as if listening to a child chatter about a trip to visit relatives.

As important, as life-changing as the events of last eighteen months had been for him, to the denizens of Rainier, they were of little or no consequence. The entire school and its populace held itself aloof from the town proper, for reasons Blair couldn’t fathom at the moment. To be fair, he admitted reluctantly, remembering how seldom acquaintances spoke of Rainier, the town returned the favor for the most part, save for the shops, pubs, restaurants, and other establishments on the streets encircling Rainier that did business with the students and staff.

In fact, the more he considered the many conversations he'd participated in since his arrival, the more he realized that his acceptance into the university's social circles, both student and professional, had been tentative until it became obvious he wasn't going to bore everyone with tales about his travels. The time away was passed over lightly, humorously for the most part, and when he responded in the same vein, he'd received subtle approval for his 'modest demeanor,' as he'd overheard one professor phrase it, and for his 'lack of airs' as a fellow student had stated more boldly, right to Blair's face.

The only exception to the lack of curiosity about the events during and after the High Court, Blair realized in retrospect, was questions about the gettles, and occasionally, very subtly, about the Elderkin. The tone of the queries ranged from intent and persistent to understated with an assumed air of boredom, and came from every level of Rainier. Pulling at the curls at the side of his head with both hands, he asked himself how much of a coincidence could it be that the one thing he couldn't and wouldn't speak of, was the single topic that too many people touched on in blatant defiance of current conversational standards.

The obvious conclusion was that, regardless of how insular the university was, the conspiracy had reached its grounds and insinuated itself into the population. Getting up to pace, Blair studied the theory from all angles, but could not see where he could be mistaken. Kincaid and a few of his cohorts had all but vanished, but it had not occurred to anyone that they might have found refuge at Rainier. Blair had been both part of the surveillance and the subsequent search; there had been no apparent connection to the University.

In retrospect and in view of Kincaid's personality, that made perfect sense, Blair decided. Like most people who desired power above all else, cowardice lay at the core of his needs, and a smart coward always had several concealed lines of retreat prepared. The question was how far did his influence on the campus reach and where was he hidden? He'd have to contact Jim…

A stab of pain at the reminder of the sentinel nearly undid Blair, but he determinedly held himself still until it passed and his now customary deadened state returned. Sitting down, he took a deep breath and tried to refocus on what he should do next.

"Professor Sandburg?" Brad Ventriss knocked on the door frame and came in without waiting for a reply, his slick smile saying he assumed he was welcome. "Are you well? You look a bit pale."

Summoning the appropriate disinterested expression, Blair said blandly, "Do I? Must be the lighting. What can I do for you Mr. Ventriss?"

Taking a seat unbidden, Ventriss lounged casually in the chair, propping one foot on the edge of Blair's desk. "You covered my basic history class yesterday, and I had hoped that you might answer a question for me."

Grateful for the frozen condition of his emotions, Blair effortlessly hid his cynical reaction to the request. Ventriss may have had that particular class on his schedule, but he had not attended the day Blair had taught it. And Ventriss was one of those who had pressed insistently for information on gettles or the Elderkin. Regardless, he said with honest sincerity, "Questions are why I became a teacher; please proceed."

"On those occasions you worked with the Elderkin, did you see any similarity between their emotional reactions and humanity's?" Ventriss asked with what he probably thought was boyish ingenuousness.

"To be truthful," Blair said with equal falseness that rang far better than Ventriss', "I had far more important matters on mind during my brief encounters. And as Man is the subject of my studies, I did not bother to make note of much more than how humans reacted to them."

"Oh." Ventriss, looked away, possibly to conceal his frustration at being thwarted yet again. "Can you imagine the readership an article, or perhaps even a book, on the subject might have?"

"Popular press or academic?" Blair waved a hand negligently to dismiss any possibility of doing so himself. "Personally I can't see an editor of either wishing to see such a manuscript."

He made a show of checking the time from the clock on the wall, then stood, gathering his good pen and a fresh packet of paper. "Thus far not even my advisor committee has evidenced curiosity on that particular topic, nor is speculation of that sort my strength. Speaking of which, I have an appointment with Dr. Bruckner, so if you'll excuse me?"

Instead of accepting the polite dismissal, Ventriss rose and accompanied Blair to Bruckner's office, very earnestly attempting to persuade Blair every step of the way that he should at the very least cobble together a few notes for Ventriss to use to do a draft himself that Blair could approve and claim rights as co-author. His persistence was such that Blair found himself wishing heartily to be on his own for a change, and that thought nearly had him stopping in his tracks.

When was the last time he was alone? It seemed he was always in the company of others when not locked in his room, dead to the world. Even when he was in the research library or his office, it seemed people were always hovering nearby or dropping by to chat, which, until this very moment, he had been grateful for. Now it was all too clear that most were dancing attendance on him for superficial reasons and a professed fondness for his companionship had never been followed by suggestions for more personal encounters.

The only possible conclusion was that he was being watched, and the inevitable deduction that followed was that Kincaid had arranged it to be certain that Blair wasn't suspicious of his presence on campus. The question that followed on the heels of that was why had Blair been induced to return if Kincaid had that much influence at Rainier.

And the undeniable, heart-breaking answer to that was that Kincaid had orchestrated Blair's current status because it would achieve the one goal that Kincaid obviously had had from the day Jim became the Liegeman to Cascade. Jim was alone, without the support of a guide, friend, or bedmate, leaving him vulnerable to any who might have nefarious ambitions toward gaining that position in Jim's life.

A roar of pure, instinctive denial that any should take his place beside Jim shook Blair to his core. Twinned with it was the equal agony that Blair had been so foolish as to abandon his sentinel, even at Jim's insistence. He should have fought harder to remain with him, persuaded Jim to seek out a solution to their problem rather than meekly yield to convention. He had, after all, turned the Elderkin to his way of thinking at least once.

"Professor Sandburg," Ventriss whined, cutting through Blair's moment of insight.

"Yes," Blair answered automatically, mind churning over too many emotions to truly know precisely how he felt.

"You're not listening to me!"

Dragging himself back to the matter at hand, Blair spared an instant to be grateful for the man's self-absorption. It was obvious Ventriss had no idea of Blair's turmoil, giving him the opportunity to compose himself, gathering the facade of social butterfly and young professor around himself like a cloak. As if cheerfully indifferent to the lack, Blair admitted, "Not a word, actually. I've stated my position on the issue of publishing works on the Elderkin and see no reason to alter that stance. I've far better topics to mine that will benefit my own scholastic standing. If you're truly so interested, you might speak with the liegeman himself. He's not adverse to answering questions, if approached properly."

Sputtering, Ventriss came to a stock standstill in the middle of the path, and Blair blithely continued the rest of the way to the Administrator's building. Dr. Bruckner held a prized corner office, three stories up perhaps, but, a source of pride for him regardless. Blair blessed the time it took to climb the stairs for it allowed him to bury his tumult even deeper until he had the privacy and safety to consider his next course of action.

Dr. Bruckner answered Blair's knock himself, ushering him in as if a favored niece or nephew instead of an untenured teacher with no real function as yet. "Prompt, for a change, eh, Sandburg?"

"It occurred to me that you might find the change refreshing - or at least, an entertaining curiosity," Blair said just short of impertinently, grinning as if to invite Dr. Bruckner to share his amusement.

Chuckling, Bruckner did just that, and waved Blair to a chair. "Be comfortable, please. Refreshments? I can have a bit of tea up here in no time."

"No, thank you." Turning a bit serious, Blair seated himself. "This has the air of a social call. I thought we were to discuss my class roster for the new year and outline a rough syllabus for it."

"No reason we can't combine business with pleasure," Bruckner said a shade too heartily to Blair's ear. "I have someone I'd like you to meet." He turned toward the balcony doors on the far side of the room from the entrance. "Come in, my dear."

Manners had Blair standing as a feminine figure stepped through the late afternoon glare, and ever after he would wonder at the miracle of fate that had allowed himself to compose himself to total neutrality before this meeting. The woman was stunningly beautiful: tall, slender, lithe, with a cap of short blonde hair that framed an exquisite oval face graced with a generous mouth and incredible silver-gray eyes. She was also as close to purely evil as a human being could be.

Blair had no sound basis for that abrupt, extremely judgmental opinion. Regardless, he was as sure of it as he was that Jim was this sentinel's exact opposite. And he was equally positive she was a sentinel.

She tilted her head slightly as she approached, which Blair had seen Jim do many times when listening for what others could not hear. Her nostrils flared, to catch his scent, he knew, and she could see that his lack of sexual reaction to her beauty had her confused. That suited him entirely. If he could keep her off-balance, he could hide the rest of his knowledge from her. He had no doubt the moment she suspected he knew she was the person behind Kincaid's information on sentinels, he was a dead man.

Pausing as if expecting to be admired, she waited for Dr. Bruckner to perform the introductions. Beaming paternally, he did just that. "Professor Blair Sandburg, I would like you to meet my niece, Alicia Bannister. She's been traveling overseas for the past few years, and has returned home to seek assistance for her condition."

"A pleasure to meet you," Blair said formally, meeting her gaze without effort and with nothing more than idle curiosity.

Though there was a flash of displeasure at his disaffection, she smiled charmingly. "If what Uncle Hal says is true, then this meeting is definitely to my benefit."

Hoping that his attitude presented itself as the sort of sauciness that a youngster might have for an elder sibling, Blair said, "Please tell me that your Uncle isn't seeking an escort to the Winter Festival for you. The gentlemen on this campus cannot be that blind."

Clearly disconcerted, Dr. Bruckner said, "Of course not. The issue is much more close to home for both of us, and frankly, unless we wish to lose Alicia's company all together, you may be our only solution." He took a deep breath as if bracing himself to share a deep, dark secret. "She's a sentinel."

"Ah!" Blair shook his head. "I take it you do not wish to leave for the Settlement for the training they can provide?"

Bitterly, Miss Bannister said, "I spent a portion of my childhood there, but left when I was old enough to make such decisions on my own. Frankly, I did not want a life of service. My abilities went dormant, as I was told by my teachers they would, and I was as glad to be rid of them."

"Ellison mentioned that there were those who had the senses, but not the desire or inclination to be a sentinel, let alone a liegeman," Blair said thoughtfully. "Do you wish to send a message through him to request the aid of an instructor to gain command of your abilities?"

"We were rather hoping that you could provide her with that." Bruckner sat on the edge of his desk, leaning toward Blair as if he could encourage him by presence alone.

"Forgive me for my bluntness, but absolutely not." Blair took a step back, shaking his head.

Sternly, Dr. Bruckner began, "Now listen, young man…"

Blair interrupted, hands gesturing as if to ward off anything either of them might have to say. "If you require a lady's maid to see to your particular needs, I can recommend a few young women who are meek and servile enough to do well in the position. I will also provide information on the tradesmen that Liegeman Ellison uses that he finds capable of satisfactory service for his wants. But I will never, ever allow myself to become a servant to the unceasing demands of a sentinel again."

Interestingly, Ms. Barrister looked bemused, in direct contrast to Dr. Bruckner's near panic. "Surely it was not that unpleasant," he said. "I mean, you never reported any difficulties with Ellison, and, in fact, had shown definite signs of surrendering your Student status."

Truly incensed because his refusal to do so was the source of his current misery, Blair snapped, "I agreed to the terms of our association as he defined them in the beginning, and to give credit where it is due, Ellison never reneged in any manner, always allowing me to do as I wished in regards to my research, including tolerating my company while he saw to his official duties."

Blair began to pace, casting sidelong glances at Ms. Barrister, sincerely hoping that any sensory information she gained from him could be attributed to anger. "My delay in resuming my studies was entirely due to the breadth of the opportunities our relationship engendered. By all that's holy, Bruckner, I dined with Chinese diplomats while politely discussing how many would have to die to appease the Elderkin for the sortie they claimed was done by desperate pirates. Can you imagine the body of work I can produce on that one incident alone?"

"Yes, yes," Bruckner said absently, "All three of the proposals you submitted are eminently suitable for you to build your academic reputation upon. In addition, you have made your feelings on expending time and energy on writing about the Elderkin culture quite clear, though there are many who feel that a comparison between Man and Dragon may lead insight to both species. I am simply saying that it is in your best interest to be… accommodating to Alicia's difficulties."

Pulling himself up to his full height, Blair ground to a stop in front of Bruckner. "Sir, is that a threat?"

Haughtily Bruckner said, "Not a threat, no, of course not. Merely a warning that the status you currently enjoy is due at least in part to the acceptance the senior professors have given you. That can change if they perceive you as getting above yourself in any report that I might make on your behavior."

Adopting the same arrogant attitude Blair said, "In that case, you may tell them that I will not be cowed by seniority into acting against my own best interests, and that I do not have such an overwhelming fondness for Rainier that I would be disinclined to go elsewhere. Europe, perhaps, where the prestige attached to institutes of higher learning far outweigh whatever standing Rainier can bestow. You do remember that my mother travels there now, and has many contacts both in Great Brittan and the Continent?"

Spinning on his heel, he sketched a bow to Miss Bannister. "My most sincere apologies on the necessity of my refusal, and I do sympathize with the troubles that your senses are providing for you in this environment. But I have had quite enough of sentinels, thank you very much!"

Without giving either of them the opportunity to debate further, Blair left as quickly as dignity would allow, all too conscious that Miss Bannister could well be listening to his every step as he retreated. Presuming that her range would be more limited than Jim's because of her lack of training, he relaxed only when he was nearly across the campus. It seemed his abrupt departure had also caught any tracking his movements off-guard. He was alone and for the moment hidden by the shadows of a stand of trees gathered around a small pond.

Moving deep into the concealment of a willow tree, Blair leaned on the trunk and fought to breathe normally. As he expected to taste the bitterness of betrayal, he was astounded when tears of grief and loss welled up, dragging pain with them from the center of his chest. The same thought echoed through his head over and over. He had abandoned his sentinel and for what?

He had found the enemy harbored by those he had believed were the same as family. The life he had cherished in memory had proven to be too small and confining for him, as child's nursery must seem to the adult when he visits it again. Worse of all, nothing, nothing he would do as a professor would ever be as valuable as what he could have accomplished as a guide as innocent lives hung in the balance when he saw to Jim's health and well-being.

Banishing his sorrow with steely determination, Blair focused on what had to be accomplished next. Fist beating an irregular tattoo on the tree trunk, he considered simply walking to the nearest corner where a cab might be caught and going to Major Crimes to report his suspicion of Kincaid's whereabouts. Simon would listen to him even if Jim, if Jim…

Blair swallowed hard at the agonizing possibility of seeing Jim and being treated as if he were a stranger. As a liegeman, Jim would take Blair's theories seriously, but facing the cold formality that Jim habitually cloaked himself in when denying his emotions was a daunting prospect. Regardless, Blair braced himself and left his pathetic sanctuary, strolling as if the only issue troubling him was where to have a bite to eat and a beer.

Within two blocks he regained a watcher, this one making no effort at concealing his interest in Blair's whereabouts. Blair waved to him, calling if he wished to join him for a late lunch. Grinning merrily, the young man did as requested, saying that Dr. Bruckner was concerned that Blair might be disturbed because of their disagreement and had asked him to see to Blair's peace of mind.

Laughingly Blair dismissed their argument as the sort of intense discussion only academics could fall into without resorting to fisticuffs, and asked if the young man had friends who would join them. He made no mention of the much rougher, armed man keeping to the periphery of Blair's vision, noticeable only because Blair was expecting Kincaid to have his own spy on him. It was very likely, to Blair's mind, that if he did try to approach Simon or another sheriff, they would die quickly.

He had grown so accustomed to the pretense of a carefree, successful Student that he was able to maintain it through the rest of the day despite the fear and worry consuming him. Behind his mask he plotted and schemed, discarding one plan after another as too unlikely or too preposterous or too complex. It was the sight of the matronly woman in charge of his official reception leaving for the day that gave Blair the idea he needed to contact Jim and Simon.

The next morning he went to her office to receive the formal invitations, envelopes addressed and with the RSVP cards inserted. All they lacked to be finished was a personal note from Blair, and as he had already informed a number of people that he had invited Major Crimes, it would raise no questions for him to be seen working on them. Door open, hailing every person who passed that he was familiar with, he penned small, light-hearted postscripts on each invitation, all the while keeping the one addressed to Jim next to his heart.

It was his sincere hope that by the time he was ready to post that one, it would be saturated with the scent of his terror. To underline that smell, his note to Jim read, "Wish Ften could be a part of the revelry for all the patience he's shown me. Ah, well, a horse wouldn’t be very entertained at one of these gatherings. Perhaps our mutual friend Henry would be a better companion for you for the evening. Looking forward to seeing you again."

He signed it simply 'Blair' and slipped the underdeveloped gettle scale he'd taken from the beast Joliet had tortured into the envelope before sealing it. Setting them aside with a wordless exclamation of happy relief that at least sounded authentic, he turned his mind back toward the paper he was supposedly working on and waited for the clock to tick away the minutes until the evening mail was due to be picked up. On one level of his mind he worried over the message - was it too cryptic, would Jim even open the invitation, let alone read the personal message added. Surprisingly, possibly because he was completely exasperated with all the intrigue, he actually became absorbed in the article, surfacing only when the chimes of the campus tower clock rang the hour.

As naturally as he could contrive, Blair rose from his desk, scooping up his usual bundles of papers, books, and paraphernalia. A student approached him as he left the office, and he readily matched step with him, listening to the flimsy excuse the young man had for accompanying him. Keeping the conversation casual, he meandered from point to point, stopping to chat or drop off one of his bundles, until he was at the edge of the campus at a public mail box.

Shooing off his escort, he dropped the invitations into the box and stood for a moment, hand on the metal top, breathing a wordless, fractured wish for far more than the mail to arrive safely and in a timely manner. Sighing, Blair straightened his shoulders as if taking up a burden, and turned to return for his quarters for the night. All he wanted now was peaceful sleep until the morrow's dawn.

"Closing the book on the latest chapter of your life?" Miss Bannister said, stepping from a pool of late evening gloom.

Startled, Blair unintentionally answered honestly. "Yes." Regaining his composure with a half laugh, he added, "Odd, isn't it, that endings bring mixed emotion even when eagerly anticipated? You find yourself remembering the excitement or the adventure, and forgetting about the never-ending rain dripping down your collar and the mud swallowing your boots."

"I suppose that's true with every major change in life, no matter how expected or unexpected." Miss Bannister took his arm in a friendly manner and urged him to walk back toward the university. "In this instance, however… forgive me, but I cannot help but sense your pain."

"It is of my own doing, and for the most part, I am resigned to it," Blair said as dismissively as possible, trying to think of a graceful way to put distance between them.

"Ah, I see." Smiling, and not at all pleasantly, Miss Bannister hugged the arm she held to her breast. "You fell in love with your dashing liegeman, only to discover that he would have none for long save his true guide."

Using the unwanted intimacy as an excuse, Blair jerked free of her and stepped to one side, though he did not try to walk away completely. "That, Miss Bannister, is my business. I do regret that your senses must inflict my personal difficulties on you."

"As oh-so-honorable as the liegemen supposedly are, he did tell you that they mate with their guides for life and you could never be more than a passing fancy for him." The malice in her voice was nearly as painful as her revelation. "No? I thought not."

"You are only half correct, though it is no concern of yours. Now if you'll forgive me, I long for my bed."

"Wouldn't it be better to share that bed and forget the one who spurned you with one who is more than willing to provide you with whatever you need beyond pure professional matters?" Miss Bannister tilted her head, smiling winsomely, her hand resting against her throat in a half-caress.

Stopping, then turning to face her, Blair ran his hands through his hair over his ears, then buried them in his pockets. "I do appreciate the kindness of your offer, but in all due honesty, you simply are not, ah, equipped, for the activities that would grant me surcease. Surely you can understand that biology will have its own way in such matters, and that it is no slight to your beauty, which even I can see."

Clearly displeased and just as clearly uncertain what to do with a male that did not respond to her wiles, Miss Bannister snorted once in disgust and stomped away. Looking at her ramrod stiff back as she left, Blair's worry increased. As she was following Kincaid's pattern - or Kincaid had followed hers at their first meeting - an assault on his person would follow the attempts, first at gaining his employ, then at seducing him. While he had no desire for a physical confrontation, he also had not the slightest notion as to how to avoid one.

Wearily he returned to his room and readied himself for bed, eagerly giving himself over to the oblivion of slumber. For the next few days he did his best to remain there, and when leaving was necessary, to seek out the company of small groups or remain in very public locations. He did not think his precautions would serve him for long, but expected that Kincaid and Bannister would not act again until after the reception rather than incite concern from the sheriff's department by Blair's absence. After that, however, it would be easy enough to dispose of him and spread the tale that he had received a better offer from a better University back east.

As it was, either his enemies had very limited patience or Jim and Major Crimes accidentally roused Kincaid's suspicion. Blair received a summons from Dr. Bruckner, couched in apologetic terms for their last meeting while being most insistent that he present himself at the assigned hour. Resigned, Blair tidied himself for the appointment, putting on his gettle scale waistcoat in a sudden fit of defiance.

When Dr. Bruckner answered Blair's knock himself instead of his secretary, Blair knew his premonition was accurate. Not bothering to conceal his true feelings any longer, he followed Bruckner into his inner office, nodding in recognition at Miss Bannister, seated near the window in a wing-backed chair. The third person in the room, in the chair opposite her was no surprise, either, and Blair merely leaned back against the closed door, arms crossed over his chest.

"This does explain a great deal," Blair said misleadingly, and to no one in particular.

"I believe," Kincaid said with manic cheer that caused Bannister to grimace, "that you and I have unfinished business."

Ignoring him, Blair caught and held Bruckner's eye through pure force of will. "You are simply going to stand by and let him rape and torture me. What on earth could he have possibly offered you that you would be willing to be an accomplice to such horror?"

Apparently without thinking Bruckner slid a glance at Bannister and licked his lips lasciviously. "You should understand; you've been with a sentinel."

"And I walked away from him when the price was too high."

Surprisingly, Bruckner looked ashamed. "Not all of us are as strong of heart and character as you. For what good it does, I am truly sorry that it came to this."

"No, you're not. Or you would have at least attempted to inform me of my danger." Blair dismissed him from mind as if he had never existed, sure to the soul of himself that Bruckner would pay a thousand times with a thousand different humiliations for his betrayal.

Fixing a stare on Kincaid, Blair went on coldly, "And of course you are telling them, and possibly yourself, that what you will inflict on me will be to gain information, which is a lie. Your so-called cause is lost and what pitiful tidbits of knowledge I have on the Elderkin are nothing compared to what she knows. What you truly wish is retribution because of your failure during our last encounter."

For a moment Blair thought the man might die from the force of the fury thundering through him, but he quashed it down, an ugly grin contorting his face. "I also enjoy causing pain; I find it very…. gratifying."

Too dangerous to be set aside, Kincaid was regardless relegated to a corner of Blair's attention as he faced the true villain of the odd drama he found himself embroiled in. "For you, Miss Barrister, it is about retribution, is it not? You didn't choose to leave the Settlement; you were exiled because they perceived you as flawed. You lost your chance at power and now you scramble after it in any form you can, including enthralling a weak-willed university professor and seducing a criminal into dancing to your tune."

Blair heard the hiss of anger and insult from the two men, but Miss Bannister only smiled and leaned back provocatively in her chair. "The true irony is that the man you'll die in hopes of protecting is the living proof of what I've believed since my parents happily, gratefully turned me over to those reptiles - not all of them Elderkin. Sentinels do not require a guide to function; guides are only another tool to control us so that we can never turn our power against them."

"And the never-ending headaches, the hours lost to bemusement, the torment as one sense or another will not be silenced?" Blair asked softly, knowing how much Jim struggled with those afflictions. "The days when only the deep forest or wide ocean is quiet enough, temperate enough, empty enough to allow you peace? The knowing that you could be so much more, reach so much farther, if only it weren't for the danger in releasing the tethers of your control completely with no one to act as a safety net for you? Is not the companionship of one whose very essence is a pleasure to yours not a reasonable price for surcease from such?"

It might have been his imagination, but for the tiniest of seconds Blair thought he saw longing in her eyes, the faintest softening of her expression. If he did, it was gone so quickly that he would never be certain that it wasn't his own hopeful imagination. She stood and angrily strode toward him, and he knew that he had not made her angry enough to kill him quickly, unintentionally sparing him from torture.

Without moving he prepared himself. He was not about to meekly allow himself to be taken. If he fought hard enough they might do him mortal damage without deliberate purpose. Some of his intent must have shown. Kincaid drew a pistol and pointed it almost lazily at him.

"Now, now, Professor Sandburg. A bullet wound will not deter me from my pleasures, and I am good enough a marksman that you cannot be sure of a fatal injury." Kincaid smirked. "In fact, I may shoot you deliberately; the kneecap perhaps."

"Not all of us are cowards," Blair said blandly, watching for that bit of rage that Kincaid would not be able to hold back. It came, and Blair leaped sideways into Bruckner, tumbling with him. The gunshot sounded, whistling harmlessly by, and Blair scrambled to his feet, this time rushing Bannister. As he had hoped, the report from the gun had hurt her ears enough that she was not prepared for him, and he crashed into her ribs as Kincaid fired again.

A blast of pain in his back knocked the breath from Blair, and he had time to think that a bullet was not as terrible as he'd been led to believe before Bannister shrieked and rolled away, kicking. He looked up to see Kincaid looming over him, weapon aimed down at Blair's midsection. Not a good place to be shot, Blair thought inanely, then a neat round hole appeared in the middle of Kincaid's forehead.

The man collapsed bonelessly, and Blair hastily elbowed backwards, right into Bannister. She caught him by the head and shoulders, legs wrapped around his torso to hold him steady. "Be still. One twist will break your neck and end this now."

Jim dropped lightly onto the balcony from Incacha's claws, gun at the ready. Incacha gave a mighty flap of his wings and lifted straight up, as Jim darted inside. To Blair's shock, he snarled at Bannister, the wordless threat quite clear in his voice and posture.

"I will kill him," Bannister said all too calmly. "I quite enjoy depriving sentinels of their guides, though I confess I prefer to seduce them away, forever tarnishing their oh-so-prized virtue and honor in the eyes of their liegeman. Dead will suffice, however."

"I've heard of you," Jim nearly growled. "How disappointing it must be to you that for all your machinations while in the Settlement, you succeeded only in destroying your own future - and harming one unfortunate pairing that was already doomed. All you did was add to Lakey's sorrow before he died of natural causes, with Justin right beside him."

Unable to see Bannister's rage, Blair knew it was there by how her limbs tightened around him. "So I will succeed with this one, and as I suspect that you haven't weakened enough to actually claim him, the thought that you will forever after wonder does please me."

"Enjoy it while you may." Jim looked directly at Blair and added cryptically, "You do remember that a dragon burns only what he wishes to burn?"

"What of…" Bannister began, then she shrieked in unholy agony, back arching powerfully enough to buck Blair away from her, despite the desperate clutch of her fingers.

Not wasting the opportunity for freedom, Blair managed to pivot on his backside as he landed, so that he faced her. He had one glimpse of her flesh melting from her skull is if it had turned liquid, then Jim pulled him to his feet at a dead run, urging him across the room to the door. Bruckner was pounding against it, Kincaid's pistol in his fist, apparently too panicked to remember how to undo a dead bolt. Like an animal sensing danger, he spun to face Jim and Blair as they drew within touching distance of him, wrapping both hands around the grip of the gun as he pointed it at them.

Before he could speak, Jim swept Blair behind him with one arm and glared. "Do you know how a Vengeance Hunt works, sir?"

The formality of tone and seemingly inappropriate question silenced whatever threat Bruckner had been prepared to make. "Wha… what?"

""Do you know how a Vengeance Hunt works, sir?" Jim repeated with amazing patience. Not waiting for an answer, he went on, "Every sentinel, every guide turns their attention to you - what you need, who you love, how you live, and then they slowly, carefully, methodically destroy all of it, bit by bit. If you love money, they see that you have none. If you love power, they see that all mock and ridicule you. Your family is sent away from your disgrace, leaving you to bear it on your own. Every friend is turned against you, and you cannot regain them because the truth will be used to reveal every flaw, every mistake, every unsavory portion of your character in the most glaring light. In the end, most long for death, but unless they gain the courage to see to the matter themselves, they live on, shunned and starving at the very edge of humanity."

As Jim spoke, he prowled closer a tiny bit at a time, his voice going deeper and deeper, holding more and more menace - or perhaps promise, Blair thought. Bruckner turned white, gulping convulsively, and the gun shook so badly he had as much a chance at hitting himself as either Jim or Blair no matter how close they were.

"I… I did nothing to earn that fate!" Bruckner finally shouted, tossing the weapon aside.

"You were prepared to stand by and allow evil to be done to Blair Sandburg. Were, perhaps even anticipating it, infuriated as you are with his sudden rise to prominence." Jim said quietly, and Blair nodded his agreement, expression hard. "You may think that you will succeed in denying that to a judge or jury, but a Hunt does not involve human courts or human justice. It involves the liegemen and their shield companions, and that justice is far more… basic. I need only call to my brethren and you will suffer far worse than you wished to see Sandburg suffer."

Bruckner fumbled behind himself at the door knob as if forgetting completely that he had not yet mastered the deadbolt. Escape was clearly all that he could think of, all that he wished. "Blair, please reason with him."

"I have no cause to," Blair said coldly, willing to let Jim play out his hand.

"What do I have to do to prevent the Hunt?" Bruckner blurted when he realized he had no hope of pity from Blair.

"Captain Banks is waiting in your outer office. Tell him everything. Every name, every deed, even the suspicions of what you think Kincaid might have accomplished, your role in all of it. Confess yourself utterly, and all you will face is the law. If I am not satisfied that you have riven yourself fully, then you will learn first-hand that I do not make idle threats. Ever."

"You wish me to surrender myself?" Bruckner gasped.

"No, I would rather Hunt you. But Blair does not approve of pitiless cruelty."

Bruckner broke, abruptly and completely. He whirled, finally succeeded in undoing the bolt, and fled right into the arms of Captain Banks, babbling every single thought that came to his mind. Banks shot Blair a confused look as he drew out a pair of restraints, but Jim gently shut the door again, leaning his forehead on it. One hand overhead in a fist, the other flat on the wood next to his cheek, back bowed, he was the picture of dejection.

"I beg your forgiveness, Professor Sandburg," Jim murmured quietly. "I have undone all your plans for the future through my own weakness."

Putting a hand on Jim's shoulder, Blair turned him, feeling resistance that never became more than stiffness in Jim's muscles. Words, he realized, would not work well enough nor say all that needed said quickly. As soon as Jim faced him, he stretched up and claimed his mouth, thoroughly, gently, hungrily, until Jim returned the caress with a dazed sort of wonder that was both amazingly arousing and breathtakingly tender.

Drawing away with almost a caricature of reluctance, Blair cupped Jim's face in his palms. "I take it your actions are declaration enough to the Elderkin that I am your guide?"

"That and the dreams," Jim admitted. "When you left, I still dreamed of killing you, only now there was a woman laughing mockingly in the distance. I had the strongest sense that instead of protecting you by putting you away, I had only sent you into greater danger." He hesitated, but went on, eyes anywhere but on Blair's. "I am truly sorry, Blair. I had no choice but to tell Incacha about the premonition, especially after I received your invitation, drenched with so much fear that my heart races from it still."

"Again, you owe me no apology; you not only saved my life but spared me a great deal of torment before it." Blair reached up to brush the lightest of kisses over his lips. Tempted to linger, he leaned back instead, wishing to completely clear the air between them. "I must admit your timing was impeccable, as was your entrance."

Half-smiling, Jim fingered the jewel in Blair's earlobe. "Incacha pinpointed your location by this, and I heard enough of your conversation to be certain delay would be deadly. In fact…"

He lifted the tail of Blair's jacket in the back, harrumphing under his breath as he trailed his fingers over Blair's should blades. Stepping away, he undid Blair's waistcoat and encouraged him to slip out of it and his jacket. Jim turned the vest until Blair could see the change in one of the deep purple scales; it was fractured in an oddly beautiful pattern that caught and reflected the light like a jewel.

"It seems," Jim said, voice thick, "that your friendship with the gettles has saved you from serious harm. The bullet struck this and ricocheted along her arm. It gave us a few seconds that were sorely needed to allow me to stop Kincaid."

Staring at the beauty that had been the difference between life and death for him, Blair said, "I am going to keep this and whenever I am mocked for an act of kindness, I will use it to prove that even the least of considerations can reap the greatest of benefits."

"Why do I think that is a tale that will grow with the telling?" Jim chuckled, handing over the garments.

A loud shout from Bruckner drew their attention away from personal matters, and Blair sighed tiredly. "Back to duty then."

"Wait here for a bit, if you do not mind the, ah, condition of the room," Jim said, tucking one of Blair's stray curls back behind his ear. "The campus has been stirred to restlessness, like a bee hive with too many strangers close. It may be that Simon will prefer you to give your first statement publicly to lay the remnants of Kincaid's influence to rest and forestall wild gossip."

"A few minutes of solitude to compose myself would be appreciated," Blair admitted, feeling the first fine tremors from the aftermath of the battle course through him. He looked longingly at the bright sky and sunshine outside, and Jim escorted him to the balcony, tucking him into a private spot to one side. With a last touch of his lips to Blair's forehead, he left using long strides, answering Simon's summons with a call of his approach.

Content to stand in the pool of sunlight Jim had situated him in, Blair leaned on the wall and tried very hard not to think at all. Instead he closed his eyes and remembered how right it had been to return to Jim's arms, how his soul brightened the moment they'd touched. A rush of air told him he had company, and he sighed, opening his eyes as Incacha dropped feather light onto the balcony with him. It protested his weight with a few creaks and moans, making Blair's stomach lurch, but the dragon seemed confident the structure could take the stress, so Blair balanced one hip on the banister and shared a few minutes of silence with him.

True to Jim's description, there was a hue and cry over the grounds, with many students, professors, and other staff members running here and there. Not a few of them pointed to where Incacha perched, raising a tone of pleasure that drove down the fear and confusion. Blair's presence was noted, as well, and that seemed to settle the growing crowd even more.

Aware that he would be drawn back to Jim's side before too long, Blair asked abruptly, "Do the Elderkin love, Incacha? Do they understand human love?"

"Yes and yes," Incacha said solemnly. "And yes, we do love our liegemen, Blair. We do not recognize blood ties; for us, they are far too insubstantial a thing to base a relationship on. Our families are gathered slowly, over centuries, with layer upon layer of shared experiences and beliefs and interests binding us together. It does not matter to me that James has only two legs and an unfortunate lack of wings. He is my brother. I claim him as clan and kin, and would fight for him as readily as he fights for me."

"Then how can you be party to the hurt that consumes him even now?" Blair cried, tears suddenly close.

"Because of those years of shared lives," Incacha said placidly. He stared up at the clouds, perhaps seeing the past there. "Your existence to us is like a meteor blazing across the firmament. There for such a short time, a mere blink, but oh, so, remarkable in brilliance and magnificence. We remember our liegemen long after their years have spun out, and more than one has remarked that is a better memorial to them than a marker over their bones or faded painting in a hall."

"You know from experience, don't you?" Blair said slowly, comprehension dawning. "You've lived through the evolution of the laws and oaths our liegemen live by. You have first-hand knowledge of why a guide must devote himself to his sentinel."

"I believe if you are honest with yourself, you will see that you have some notion as to that, yourself."

Jim's pale, too tired face rose in Blair's mind, and he unwillingly nodded. "I believe that I can give up my own goals and dreams for his sake, and not regret the loss. Or at least, not to the point that it poisons our relationship. However, I am not at all sure that Jim would forgive himself for selfishly taking them from me - or that will be his view on the matter."

To his astonishment, Incacha sighed a great, heavy sigh. "That is my belief as well. And for that reason, I am reminding my kin that not all men can be shaped into place in the set scheme of things. Nor are we capable of foreseeing all eventualities that Men are so adept at creating. I cannot guarantee that my actions will have the results you desire, but it is a chance, at least."

"You will argue that I might remain a professor?" Blair said doubtfully.

"If you will give me your word that you will place Jim's position above your own. That is not just, I know, but your duty to him must come first for reasons I am not allowed to discuss at length."

"You have it, then," Blair returned, torn between elation and fear, for he sensed for no reason that he could fathom that there was a great deal more to keeping his part of the bargain that was apparent on the surface.

"Very well." Incacha craned his neck, head twisting slightly. "Now would be a propitious time to make our announcement." He rose to his hind quarters, reaching gingerly for Blair. "If I may?"

"I…oh! Ulp!"

Taking his permission for granted, Incacha picked Blair up in the claws of his left hand and leaped easily from the balcony. He paused before landing, scattering people right and left to make room for him as his wings beat up a cloud of dust and leaves. Despite his care, Blair felt the impact of their return to solid ground, bones shuddering painfully from it.

There was a long silence as the crowd timidly reformed around them, and Blair judged it with a weather eye, relaxing somewhat as he saw curiosity was the predominate emotion. Deputies filtered into the mass, creating a further calming force by their very presence, adding to Blair's confidence that nothing untoward would happen. In the background Bruckner, Ventriss, and several other people were being ushered into a paddy wagon, most cursing loudly, but a few seemed almost relieved.

Before the tension could build to an unpleasant point, Chancellor Edwards, tall and slender in her usual garb of men's trousers and dress shirt, made her way through the assembled people to stand in front of Incacha. She bowed toward him as Blair introduced them to each other, and listened calmly, dark eyes alert, while Blair told her everything that had happened since his summons to Bruckner's office. When he was done, she asked several questions to clarify events, her tone telling him nothing about her reception of the information.

Before she could launch into whatever speech it was that Blair could see building behind her patience, Incacha said, "I do apologize for the disruption, Chancellor, but it was necessary to act in a precipitous manner to prevent the grievous loss to both our kind." A trickle of smoke rose from his lips as he looked down on Blair, assuring that all present understood who that loss would have been. "It has, however, had a propitious secondary effect. The Brotherhood has been reminded that we have been benignly neglectful of the schools and universities in America."

Carefully - very, very carefully if Blair was any judge of character - Chancellor Edwards said, "Rainier, at least, has not felt neglected, sir."

"Then how did Professor Bruckner come to the end that he has?" Not allowing her to answer, he went on. "The Elderkin learn slowly, taking decades to master the written form of our language, for instance. Because of this, we revere teachers, and have never felt it necessary to do more than see to the financial needs of the institutes of higher learning."

To Blair's pleasure, several of the students had been harassing him for information on the Elderkin were listening open-mouthed, obviously drinking in Incacha's every word. It was a relief that not everyone he'd encountered at the school had been Bruckner and Kincaid's stooge. In at least some cases the interest had been genuine, and he was mildly alarmed and ashamed that he hadn't been able to detect that.

"And now you wish to take a more active role, simply because one teacher made unfortunate choices?" Edwards said, still choosing her words cautiously.

"More that we see that your needs may have evolved over the decades since we established our relationship with you. We are fortunate that you already have a contract with Professor Sandburg. As guide and shield companion to Liegeman Ellison, he is in the perfect position to evaluate those changes and how we may best adapt to them." Incacha leaned down until he was nearly eye-to-eye with Edwards. "As his responsibilities to his liegeman are onerous, I do hope that you will make allowances for the necessary deviations from his duties as a professor. This is, after all, an experimental program, if you will, to give both your institute and the Brotherhood the opportunity to adjust. If we are successful here, other universities will benefit, as well."

Edwards metaphorically eyed the twin carrots of additional capital and increased prestige while judging how troublesome it would be to have a direct representative of the Elderkin on campus. She studied Blair as well, likely reflecting on his deportment since his return to school and the approval he'd met from staff and student alike while weighing that with his excellent reputation from his Student years. Frowning as if unable to believe that he wasn't too good to be true, she glanced around, gauging the reaction of those around her.

With an air of quiet authority that moved people aside as easily as if they were grasses parted by the wind, Jim walked through the assembly to join Blair. He stood behind him, at his right shoulder, the customary position for sentinel and guide when in public but not in pursuit of their duties. It was, Blair realized abruptly, a subtle yet effective way to proclaim that a guide had his own authority, held in his own right, that was not necessarily superseded by his sentinel's.

Whatever balance Chancellor Edwards had been weighing tipped in Blair's favor. "Of course," she said so smoothly there might have been no pause at all. "I'm sure that Professor - or will you prefer Guide? - Sandburg and I will be able to reach reasonable accommodations with each other on his obligations to his students and classes. It is also hoped that he will share his expertise on both Elderkin and liegemen with us."

"As long as his primary responsibilities are not compromised," Incacha agreed. He sat back on his haunches, wings spreading. "Now, if you'll forgive me, there are other universities and colleges that require notification of the upcoming modifications to their association with the Brotherhood."

"We look forward to seeing you again," the Chancellor said, with obvious sincerity.

Incacha nodded and launched himself into the sky as Jim and Blair strolled away, taking advantage of the crowd's distraction to remove themselves to a more private location. To Blair's disappointment, once they were alone, Jim only held him briefly before setting him away. Lightly touching Blair's upper arms, neck, hair, even wrists in a random pattern, as if he wished to bestow far more intimate caresses, he studied Blair solemnly for several long minutes. Blair looked his fill as well, disturbed by how taut and restive Jim was.

With a gentle shove, Jim put Blair back into motion. "Simon will need my official report as soon as possible, but your statement can wait until you are better recovered from your ordeal. A bath and good meal would do much to restore you, as usual, I think."

"Food has not held much appeal for me these past few days," Blair admitted. "Nor do I particularly wish to return to my quarters on campus." Blair took a deep breath and bared all. "Would it be too presumptive of me to say I would prefer to go home?"

"If you do not," Jim said, making his own confession to Blair's delight, "I will have to seek you out wherever you are to be able to rest myself. Would it be too forward of me to concede that will likely be a permanent state of affairs?"

Blair heaved a theatrical sigh of relief. "Excellent." He entwined his fingers with Jim's and gave a farewell squeeze. "Hurry home to me please?"

Expression turning aloof, Jim drew away slowly. "As soon as duty allows." As if realizing how cold he seemed, he added, "It will not be soon enough."

At that he turned abruptly and all but marched away, leaving Blair with the delightful impression that all it would have taken was the smallest sign from him and Jim would have, for once, forsaken duty. Musing on that, he let his feet carry him along familiar paths until he was at the threshold of their loft, key fitting as if he had never been gone. Shuddering at how bare and empty the rooms were, he checked the cupboards to find them nearly as barren, but scrounged enough ingredients to make a passable bowl of porridge.

Still too agitated by the day's events to seek his bed as yet, he bathed and shaved carefully, all too aware that this night would be very like a wedding night for them. With that in mind he made certain preparations, anticipation making the small chores go very quickly. Finally, fragrant beeswax candles lit, fresh linens on the bed, a small vial of special oil strategically at hand, he propped himself up with every pillow he and Jim owned, and settled down naked with a text book to wait.

It was hard to concentrate on the contents; his mind would insist on conjuring various welcomes he could use when Jim climbed the stairs to their bedroom. In the end, when Blair heard the door downstairs open, every thought he had vanished, leaving him dry-mouthed and extraordinarily alert to the smallest sounds from downstairs. He listened to Jim see to securing their rooms for the night, rummage in the cupboards for a few minutes, then tend to his evening toilet, all of which seemed to take an unusually long time. Willing to admit it was expectation responsible for a portion of that perception, it still troubled Blair that Jim was taking so long to come to him.

Finally, Jim's light tread sounded on the stairs, blessedly sure and unhesitant and Blair quickly set his unread book aside. Jim's expression as he finished climbing the steps went a long way to reassuring Blair that he had done the right thing. Open adoration warred oddly with the eagerness and uncertainty on his features, and the latter had Blair lifting his hand to reach out to him.

"I have already given my oath to the Elderkin to place your well-being above all else, but I have a promise I wish to make to you, and only you," Blair said softly.

"Yes?" Jim said, hesitating just inside the room.

"Yours. Always."

With an inarticulate noise Jim stumbled the rest of the way to the bed, catching Blair's hand in his and clutching it to his chest as he crawled up to sprawl over Blair, shedding clothes all the way. Head resting in the curve of Blair's shoulder, he half-sobbed, "Yours. Always."

Why he had not expected to receive a pledge in return, Blair had no idea, but the words cut to the quick of him with a pleasure that was deeper than merely physical. Wrapping all four limbs around Jim, he held on as tightly as he could, murmuring half-formed assurances and endearments. Jim clung as desperately, occasionally gasping Blair's name, minute tremors chasing through him.

Without ever intending to they began to rock against each other, grasping hands gentling to tender caresses along the length of back, over the swell of muscles for a leg or arm. Still mouthing the same word over and over, Jim worked his way up Blair's throat, along the sharp line of his jaw, then took his lips in a kiss that quickly turned from loving to ravenous. Blair returned it with equal fervor, stropping his tongue along Jim's, catching Jim's lower lip between his teeth to tug and nibble, and doing his very best to savor every fragment of moist, sensitive flesh.

Abruptly Jim pulled away, but only to trail a hasty line of licking kisses down Blair's abdomen, his goal obvious. A sharp shard of disappointment cut through Blair's ardor, but before he had to squelch it, Jim muttered, obviously not aware he was speaking, "Like this first, won't last if we don't, taste, then, oh, him, make him ready again, then finally, finally, me, in me, in me, long and hard…"

If Jim's vow earlier had caused pleasure, this fragmented recitation drove a spike of pure lust into Blair, sending him high and ready, aching for the act hinted in it. When Jim took his manhood into him with a single, hungry swoop, Blair howled and thrust madly, unable to moderate his strength at all. Jim coped easily, groaning deep in his chest in delight at Blair's frenzy, cheeks hollowing as he suckled at Blair's retreat. With a swirl of his tongue over the crown of Blair's cock, he dropped back down as Blair shoved into him again, and that was all that Blair needed for the first rush of climax to overtake him.

Back arching, he spilled into Jim's throat, fist pounding at Jim's shoulder, unable to so much as whimper. As the shudders of intense release faded, he drooped back onto the mattress, breath coming in great whoops. Before he could quite recover, Jim knelt up, taking Blair's legs with him so that his knees were hooked over Jim's shoulders, his bottom in Jim's lap.

Lolling his thighs apart wantonly, Blair watched Jim from under lowered lashes, fresh desire rising at the reverent, hungry stare Jim directed at the most intimate part of his body. With fiendishly light touches, Jim stroked everywhere he could reach, as if reacquainting himself with Blair's body. In very short order it was all Blair could do to hold still, hands knotted into the linens, already erect again.

"So very beautiful," Jim said softly. "So very eager. I've dreamed of you like this so many times, it hardly seems real now. If it weren't for the scent of you, filling me, holding me, I am not sure that I would believe I am."

"Did you dream of me begging for you?" Blair whispered, truly curious. "Commanding, demanding, whimpering?"

"All of it." Jim brushed cheek over the inside of Blair's leg, fingertips feathering their way from the back of Blair's knees toward his center. He found the delicate folds slick, awaiting his invasion, and dropped his chin to his chest. "Oh! Blair… oh!"

Heart lurching, Blair said, "Please, now, oh, now."

Delving into Blair's pucker, Jim expertly found the special place inside, sending an explosion of sensation through him that chased away every word save, "Jim, jim, jim, jim…"

"I will not rush this, I will not hurt you," Jim half-growled, as if more to himself than to Blair. He added another finger, scissoring gingerly, to be sure of Blair's readiness, then took himself in hand. He pressed inward, breeching Blair with great care, panting harshly.

Penetration was not an act that Blair had indulged in frequently as the trust necessary for was often not present in the fleeting encounters he was accustomed to. The fiery ache from Jim's girth had him gritting his teeth, enduring only because of Jim's low moans of delight. The discomfort quickly transmuted to the consuming pleasure he remembered so well.

As wonderful as the sweet pressure was, it was the astonished tone in Jim's small cries, the wondering rapture in his eyes that pierced Blair to the core. Summoning the will power from the pit of himself, he remained motionless until Jim was buried in him to the hilt, odd quivers running through his thighs as he held himself poised at the ready until Blair nodded his assent. Only then did Jim give himself over to nature and long-denied need.

Head thrown back, he withdrew, only to immediately plunge back in full-length, then to repeat, and repeat, each stroke wilder than the last, Blair matching him effortlessly somehow. All too quickly Blair felt Jim's cock grow the extra bit that heralded his finish, and he clasped tightly with his inner muscles to make it as spectacular as possible. Jim's entire body went rigid save for the long, hard pulses vibrating through his shaft, and as they faded, he wilted onto Blair by slow increments, as if even in the throes of passion he had to protect him.

Agilely twisting, Blair brought his legs around Jim's waist, turning them both so that he was on top, madly riding out the last of the spasms coating his insides. For Blair, being able to capture forever in his memory with crystal clarity those moments of helpless abandon as Jim lay enveloped in euphoria was well worth the frustration from not joining him in his release. He had accepted when he came to bed that their first union would likely be consummated quickly, and so was not disappointed. Undoubtedly he would have that joy many times in the future in much longer and rowdier bouts.

Now he had the thrill awaiting him of introducing Jim to the incredible pleasure of being taken, and the very thought of that was enough to set his pulse and prick to throbbing. Regardless Blair soothed and petted until Jim's rod slipped free of him, and Jim himself was fully present again. Only then did he allow his touch to grow greedy and licentious, revisiting all the places on the long, powerful body that he loved so much, rekindling Jim's ardor with ease.

When he had satisfied himself that he had paid proper homage to the front, he coax Jim into turning onto his stomach, arms over his head, one knee drawn up slightly to show the hidden portal waiting his attention. For a blasphemous moment he considered the possibility that having the sole privilege of kneeling behind him, admiring that perfect backside as he prolonged the anticipation of possessing it, was worth any price that might be asked of him, including his academic career. With a shake of his head, he reminded himself that Jim most certainly would not agree with him, and in truth, it was his sentinel's heart that was truly worth all that Blair might ever have to give.

Jim peered over his shoulder, blue eyes sparkling, and Blair laughed with him that even in the midst of their wildness he could get caught up in his own musings. To make up for the momentary inattention, he nipped the back of Jim's neck, making his way down his spine with minor diversions to other tasty locales such as Jim's oh-so-sensitive shoulder blades, until he reached the swell of Jim's bottom. Giving no warning, he abruptly ended the love-play and palmed Jim's cheeks wide, taking the rosy bud at the center with a deep, voracious kiss.

A startled grunt from his mate encouraged Blair to probe and tongue the tiny aperture until Jim's hips were grinding into the mattress and he was panting with need. Absently drying off his mouth with the back of his hand, Blair reached for the oil, almost spilling it in his haste to remove the top and anoint Jim's opening. For all his hurry, he took the same care in preparing Jim as Jim had with him, being sure of the laxness of the guardian ring with two slippery fingers.

"Gods… Blair…" Jim moaned, rearing back to drive the questing digits in deeper. "That's… I… oh!"

"This is good," Blair muttered absently, capturing a bit of the oil to smooth into his own shaft. "Oh, yes, so, good. It will get better."

"Yes. Now." Jim went to all fours with an eager recklessness that Blair had not seen since the first time they lay together. "I have waited so very long for you."

"And I for you." Blair took a deep breath to calm his urgency enough to be cautious with his entry.

Despite that, the hot velvet grip of Jim's pucker around the head of his cock nearly undid him, and he had to freeze in place, head bent almost to Jim's back as he struggled for control. Sensing Jim's decision to take matters out of Blair's hands, he let his weight fall onto his hips, pressing himself farther into Jim in small increments that were torturous and heavenly in the same portion. Finally he was fully sheathed in the snug passage, almost as awestricken by being complete with Jim as by the incredible sensation surrounding his member.

Dropping a soft peck onto each of Jim's shoulder blades, he murmured, "I love you," and eased back until he was nearly free of the clinging tissues, then hurried to fill Jim again, setting up the ancient rhythm that all men knew at the core of them. It grew in strength and speed until they were pounding at each other, punctuating their bestial rutting with wordless shouts and desperate moans. Consumed by the satisfaction in possessing and being possessed, Blair lived for the building tension in his groin and gut, for the man slamming back against him, for that moment of perfect union that he chased after so mindlessly.

It could never have lasted long enough, but that did not stop his wail of disappointment when his over-taxed nerves screamed the end of their fortitude and catapulted him into orgasm. The next sound that left him was one of pure male triumph as Jim roared and tightened around Blair's cock to milk it dry as he spilled his own cream. He splintered into brilliant shards of pure relief and ecstasy, insensible to anything but the shudders racking his body.

After a time Blair reassembled himself into a sweaty, tired, utterly sated person draped over his beloved, too at peace to be troubled by anything, even the future. Because of that, he asked without thinking, "Why did you not tell me that sentinels only have one true guide, and will have no other once they have been found?"

"Bannister," Jim grumbled wearily. He shifted, grumbling wordlessly as the loss of the physical connection between them, but made up for it by gathering Blair into his arms so that they lay on their side, face to face on the same pillow, hands entwined between them. "I did not want to burden you," he said simply. "And I wanted your choices to be made with a clear conscience."

"I would have returned to you," Blair said with confidence. "It was already in my mind to do so before I realized that Kincaid had infiltrated the University."

"I suppose that we should be grateful that he did. Your situation gave Incacha a justification for altering the usual path a guide takes with his sentinel." Jim frowned briefly, then kissed the end of Blair's nose. "I must confess that I am not certain that it is best for you. A liegeman stands between humanity and dragon kind, willingly taking the brunt of their differences. You are proposing to be a bridge between them, and I am not certain that either will allow you to keep your balance with only one foot in either domain."

"It may not be possible," Blair agreed, "but I have to try. And with your support…" He drew back enough to be able to see Jim's solemn nod, "… I may be more successful than either of us suspect."

"If it can be done, I am confident you will be the one to do it," Jim said, spoiling the sincerity of the compliment with a yawn.

Yawning himself, Blair snuggled in closer, his head fitting perfectly under Jim's chin. "T'k you," he muttered. Content and at peace, he fell asleep in the arms of his sentinel.

The end

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Acknowledgements: Thank you to Kelly for the beta and to Patt for the cover art.