“A silly old woman, you think, intruding on your life. You admire the clothes I design, but you don’t need a rich woman’s sycophant reminding you of Abe. Yes?”

It was uncomfortably close to what she’d been thinking. “I’m sorry,” she said, apologizing for being obvious, if for nothing else.

“That’s all right. He said you were practical, tenacious, clear-headed, and so you must be. But there are things you should know. Since we may be interrupted at any time-nafter all, this is a business—first let me suggest that if you find yourself in need of help, in any difficult situation in the city, mention my name. I have contacts. Perhaps Abe mentioned Samizdat?”

“Yes, he did.” Sassinak came fully alert at that. She had never found any trace of the organization Abe had told her about once she was out of the Academy. Did it still exist?

“Good. Had Abe lived, he would have made sure you knew how to contact some of its members. But, as it was, no one knew you well enough to trust you, even with your background. This meeting should remedy that.”

“But then you ...”

Fleur’s smile this time had an edge of bitterness. “I have my own story. We all do. If there’s time, you’ll hear mine. For now, know that I knew Abe, and loved him dearly, and I have watched your career, as it appears in the news, with great interest.”

“But how . . .”As she spoke, the door opened again, and three women came in, chattering gaily. Fleur stood at once and greeted them, smiling. Sassinak, uncertain, sat where she was. The women, it seemed, had come in hopes of finding Fleur free. They glanced at Sassinak, then away, saying that they simply must have Fleur’s advice on something of great importance.

“Why of course,” she said. “Do come into my sitting room.” One of them must have murmured something about Sassinak, for she said, “No, no. Mirelle will be right back to speak to the commander.”

Mirelle reappeared, as if by magic, bearing a tray with tiny sandwiches and cookies in fanciful shapes.

“Fleur says you’re quite welcome to stay, but she