“If he comes for me, I’ll go with him.” Cidra finished the last step of the highly ritualized ceremony that proceeded the serving of ether wine and handed her mother a crystal goblet full of the golden liquid. Her green eyes met those of her mother. “I will be going away even if he doesn’t come for me.”

Talina nodded with an air of quiet acceptance. “I know. I have always known that one day you would leave. But remember that Clementia will always be here for you when you wish to return for a while.”

“I would never cut myself off from my home. Even though I am not a true Harmonic, the Way is a part of me.”

“It is a part of all humans,” Talina said.

Cidra’s mouth curved in amusement. “That’s what Severance once said.”

“Your Severance sounds perceptive.”

“He’s also occasionally rude, arrogant, and obnoxious.”

“He’s a Wolf.” Talina’s hand moved gracefully in her lap. She was wearing one of her exquisite early afternoon gowns, a cream-colored robe embroidered with silver floss. Her silvered hair was bound in the same regal coronet that Cidra wore. She had bequeathed many of her features to her daughter, but in Talina those features were overlaid with an internal serenity that Cidra could only approximate.

“I am also a Wolf.”

Talina watched her daughter as she made the quiet declaration. “It is not difficult for you to accept that now?”

“No.”

“Then your adventures on Renaissance have indeed been worthwhile. You have learned much.”

“I have learned to accept myself for what I am. But the most interesting part is that even if I were offered a clear choice now, I would not choose to become a Harmonic. I don’t think I could bear to give up what I have found waiting inside myself.”

“Then you will be content with your future. I am glad for you, my daughter. Most glad.” She sipped the wine and then turned her elegant head as her husband stepped into the garden from his study. “Ah, Garn. Will you join us for a glass of wine?”

“With pleasure.” Garn came forward to sit beside his wife. His clear blue eyes were full of intelligence as he regarded Cidra. Garn Oquist wore the shorter, masculine version of the early afternoon surplice, a deep brown robe belted with a knotted thong of multicolored braided floss. His handsome face with its strong nose and high forehead held the same air of inner serenity that his wife’s wore.

When Garn took his seat beside his wife, Cidra sensed the brief, silent mental communion that took place between her parents. It was a quiet touching of minds that Cidra had once envied with all her heart. Once that subtle communication had made her feel left out and deprived. But today she found she was accepting it for what it was: a Harmonic way that she could not follow. She had other methods of communication open to her. They might be less certain, more vulnerable to risk, but when they worked, they worked well. She was satisfied with them now. They held their own rewards.

“What are the two of you discussing?” her father asked.

“My future,” Cidra said with a smile. “But the truth is that I’ve got something far more immediate and important to discuss with you, Father. I need advice in one of your areas of expertise.”

“Which one?” Garn sampled his wine with judicious care. He had many areas of expertise, some of which had made him rich.

“The theoretical aspects of the credit system.”

“I never realized you had an interest in the financial system.”

“I never had enough credit to make it worth worrying about.” Cidra’s smile broadened into a small grin.

“But now you do.”

“Yes,” she said. “Now I do. I want to invest, Father—the full five hundred thousand.”

Her father had been considering his daughter’s fortune ever since he learned of it. Now he spoke his mind. “Whoever negotiated the sale of your discoveries did an excellent job.”

“I know. But now it’s my turn. I’m in charge of investing the credit. Something high-yield and relatively short-term.”

Garn reflected seriously for a long moment and men nodded. “There are some young and aggressive exploration firms that offer excellent prospects. According to my information they are presently seeking capital investment. One in particular, a firm called ExcellEx, has intrigued me lately. We can query the computer about it this afternoon if you would care to do so.”

“That sounds perfect.” Of course, it would be perfect, thought Cidra. Most things were perfect in Clementia. For the first time she understood one of the reasons why she had never really felt at home here. Great quantities of perfection and serenity could be a little boring.

Severance paused inside the gates of Clementia and gazed at the vista of gardens and beautifully proportioned architecture. Here there were no ugly or jarring structures that had been hastily erected or incompletely thought out prior to construction. Around him people garbed in simple, elegant robes nodded politely as they passed him on the wide stone paths that wound through the gardens. There was no shushing sound of a passing runner or sled. As far as Severance could see, there were no vehicles at all.

Behind the small, walled city rose the majestic coastal mountains. In front of the gates stretched a quiet, sheltered bay that rarely knew the turbulence of sea storms. Jeude would have been at peace here.

Severance took a deep, steadying breath and reminded himself that while this would have been the ideal environment for his brother, it was not for Cidra. He made his way toward the Archives, a structure that had been pointed out for him by the Wolf who guarded the gate.

“You can’t miss it. Big domed building in the center of the campus.” The Wolf had regarded Severance quizzically. “You here to attend classes?”

“No,” Severance had answered. “I’m here to find someone.”

“Who?”

“Cidra Rainforest. She works in the Archives.” He had waited impatiently while the Wolf had contacted Cidra’s home.

“I talked to her mother. Seems Otanna Rainforest is expecting you.” The guard had waved him through the gates.

There were other non-Harmonics in the vicinity, probably students who attended the university, but the majority of the people wore the formal gowns and serene expressions of true Harmonics. Among them Severance felt large, awkward, and out of place. Rather like a torla in a garden. Not for the first time that day doubts rose to undermine his determination. Cidra wasn’t a torla in this garden. With her grace and poise she could blend in beautifully.