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I wouldn’t use my “voice” now, if I weren’t sure that I couldn’t get A’ltu to leave without a scandal.

She backs toward the door, oblivious to the envelope and the threats.

I can hear the echo of my long extinguished words restrain her will, repeatedly spurring her instinct to flee. She doesn’t even quite realize what’s happening. Maybe only after a while, when her mind has cleared, will she catch herself thinking that she can’t remember the last phrase of our conversation.

That’s how it works – plus or minus the same with everyone.

When the door behind her closes, I lean back in my chair and already feel a nasty tingling in the back of my head. In a couple of hours, the pain will be so unbearable that even I, K’rraig Shad’Far, will be howling at the walls.

I pull the photo out of the envelope, find the one with my absolutely stupid face, and bend it so that only Margot is in focus. I bet I can almost smell her hair, though I have no idea what it smells like.

I could reach out and grab the phone and dial her number-it’s been in my phone book for a long time. These days it costs nothing for a powerful Lunnic to get into the private lives of ordinary people, but I didn’t even need to pull up my connections-I just called R’ran once more and asked him for Margo’s phone number. Strangely enough, he barely even laughed, but once again he reminded me that if I cared about my primary sexual characteristics, I’d better not go to Marguerite. Not even with courtesy calls.