
"I'm going to miss this," Michael said, looking wistfully out at the arid
landscape below Linda's cliff apartment.

"Oh stop moping, you know how many people want an assignment to Wendle?
Half the planet is already staked out for resorts once we deal with the
little terrorist problem."

Michael usually didn't try to read Linda when they were together, since
reminding himself that he was a stronger mage tended to take the air out
of their favorite games, but she wasn't event applying herself to hide her
deception anymore. He turned his magical senses on her fully, taking in
the full gestalt of her potential and personality but mostly trying to
focus on surface thoughts. He quickly realized that she was a little
annoyed at him for not noticing the deception earlier.

"Took you long enough," she said with a crooked grin.

They communicated in a flash as only two powerful incarnate mages could.
Michael came to understand that the secret she had been hiding from him
was that he was not going to Wendle after all, but that instead he would
be going with her when she went to the emperor's next party. Incarnate
magic was fast, but it wasn't always perfectly precise, so he spoke
"did he ask for me specifically?" He didn't have to wait for a response.
He knew that the emperor had simply asked for a talented and reliable
official who might enjoy a somewhat unique assignment. Of course the
emperor knew about Linda's proclivity to wear tight leather and discipline
her lovers with a riding crop in her spare time, she he had known she would
be a good person to ask.

"You'll be part of the inner the inner circle if you rise to the occasion,"

"Will I?" The most potent aspect of incarnate magic was the ability to see
the true potential in people, so it was a more reasonable question than
it might have been when posed to someone without Linda's talents.

"I think so, but we'll have to see what Geoffrey thinks," the Last Emperor,
the immortal ruler of half the known galaxy and the single most powerful
man alive, did not stand on ceremony. Outsiders were often shocked by the
casualness with which the incarnate referred to their emperor, but a leader
needed no crown when all his subjects had magic that allowed them to perfectly
understand that he was the right man for the job.

"I suppose we will,"

=================================================================================

"Michael, Michael, I've been looking all over for you. Linda tells me wonderful
things, wonderful things," the Last Emperor appeared out of the crowd wearing
a pair of breeches held up by suspenders and a gleaming black boot tugged down
over his head like a hat. His feet and chest were bare. An extremely thin
and long campaign flute filled with a glowing violet spirit dangled from
one hand while he made beckoning gestures with the other. "Have you had the
crystal whiskey?"

"I haven't had time," Michael confessed, stepping to the side to allow
a Vysh shapeshifter wearing the form of a bear to careen by on a unicycle.

"Well, we've got to fix that, Zelda come on, oh don't be scared I don't
bite, and Michael would probably rather you bit him," a young woman in
the same fashionably cut yet garishly patterned suit that all the servants
were wearing stepped forward. She looked a bit shocked to be directly addressed
by name by the most powerful man in the galaxy, but did a good job of remaining
professional. "Give Michael a drink." She handed him one of the very long flutes.


