Chapter 21.3

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With Therenden's promise of help, Sabrina was able to put the question of Pharo aside and get on with her regular workload, at least for a while. Late that afternoon Owryden and General Zhahghai came to see her and, grinning, presented the first draft of their proposed trade agreement. An evening of negotiation ensued, as Sabrina tried to eke out a few more advantages to Praxatillus without any real leverage. Finally they agreed to sleep on it and meet in the morning.

Tassan was pacing the conservatory by the time Sabrina and Darice arrived. "I was worried something had happened!" he exclaimed. "What kept you so late?"

"I was out dancing and lost track of the time. Affairs of state, what do you think kept me?" Sabrina retorted.

Tassan looked at Darice, who shrugged and said, "She's all yours. And yes, she's been like this all day. I'd stun her if I were you."

"Any more of that," Sabrina informed her, "and you'll be the one on the wrong end of a gun. Go get some sleep, and for God's sake wake up in a better mood!"

"I might say the same to you," Darice said, "but since you've made it clear I've used up my insolence quota for today, I won't. I wish you a pleasant night, my lady." She made a slightly exaggerated salute and departed.

"Dare I ask what's gone wrong today?" Tassan inquired. "I expected you to be in a good mood. The General has made rapid progress with the trade talks."

"Yes," Sabrina said. "I've been haggling details with him and Owryden all evening. I expect I'll probably sign the agreement in the morning." The tension that had been with her all day began uncoiling in Tassan's comforting presence, and Sabrina realized she had been making difficulties about the trade terms more out of bad humor than any real reason. She sighed.

"Surely that's cause for celebration?" Tassan said, frowning at her. "What's the matter, Sabrina?"

"I got the terms for the meeting with Homeworld today."

"That bad?"

"I don't know. That's the trouble. Imari's got information I need, and she won't give it to me. She expects me to just say no to the deal, no questions asked." Sabrina ran a hand through her hair, ruining the last vestiges of the hairstyle Rndara had worked so hard on that morning. "I might as well shoot Tirqwin and Khediva myself. There won't be another offer."

Tassan shook his head. "No wonder you're in such a foul mood. Come here." He guided her to a plush cushion on the floor, near the decorative, disused fireplace, and knelt behind her, massaging her shoulders.

"That feels wonderful," Sabrina sighed. "You're putting years back on my life. But it doesn't solve anything, Tassan."

"What will?"

"I need a storyteller. You don't know any, do you?"

"There was one in our squad, in the War. He died...the same day that Ambria did. I've never met another."

"Did he ever tell you any stories about Pharo?"

"Pharo?" Tassan echoed, surprised. "Yes, one or two, I suppose."

Sabrina twisted around to look at him. "Do you remember them?"

"You're all tense again," he chided. "I don't know. I guess I probably remember the gist of them. Though storytelling is not my talent."

"I just need the facts, Tassan. I don't want to be entertained."

"Why don't you start by telling me what you know of Pharo, and then I'll add what I can."

"It was home to a race called the Pharon. They were one of the old races. I think they had a pretty bad reputation, and they all died out millennia ago, before the Miahns existed. That's it. Oh, and some people think they were only a myth."

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