Darkvision - Bruce R. Cordell [38]
Warian nodded. It seemed clear his uncle hadn't seen him using his own arm to such spectacular effect, or understood what he was seeing. He wondered if his prosthesis had somehow intercepted a power boost meant for Datharathi crystal-wearing plangents. He didn't understand how that could be, but he was no warlock, gemstone engineer, or spell-monger, either.
Warian asked, "If it's better than flesh, why don't I see you sporting the plangent look?"
"Me? No. I prefer the parts I was born with, thank you."
* * * * *
Warian filled the subsequent two days dodging various inquiries from his family. Zel was good to his word-he told the others Warian had returned to town. After getting more than two invitations to meet "just you and me" before the family council meeting, he made himself scarce. Warian didn't want to hear the inevitable side proposals or deals. He wanted to see everyone at once and gauge their reactions to his question. His facility with games of chance was more than just luck, after all-he had a knack for reading people's true motives lurking behind whatever their mouths were saying.
He rented a flat in the upscale but still shabby Vartown district. There, he wiled away his time catching up on the latest underground, counter-culture art craze of Vaelan- libelous plays decrying the members and policies of every major chaka. The Datharathi family was not spared. Warian did himself a favor by not identifying his lineage to the other tenants. Indeed, he enjoyed a particular one-man performance that portrayed his Uncle Xaemar in all his overweening confidence, to great comedic effect.
In this manner, two days slipped past, stung by occasional pangs of guilt. Several times, Warian considered hunting for his missing sister, but he couldn't stand the thought of being cornered by the family. He would look for her after the meeting.
Warian made a conscious decision to arrive after the council meeting was scheduled to begin, and he slipped into a side entrance of the Datharathi family compound, where he was stopped by a servant. Recognizing Warian, the servant told him in a hushed tone that the meeting had already started. Warian nodded and quickly made his way to the boardroom.
All the senior members of the family were already gathered around a marble table. Only five of the ten chairs were filled. Warian walked to his own seat and sat down. Uncle Xaemar was in the midst of one of his cutting diatribes about a competitor. Despite his nephew's absence of five years, Xaemar continued expounding on his obtuse point, "… so the bids have been placed, the three-ship fleet is underway, and we have just three tendays…"
Warian stopped listening and glanced around the table.
Uncle Xaemar was the ranking family member by virtue of being the oldest of Shaddon's children. But eldest child or not, Xaemar's judgments were rarely questioned by his siblings. Only Grandfather Shaddon ever found fault with Xaemar's directives, and then only to be confrontational, not because Xaemar was wrong.
Warian's senior uncle never made a decision without calculating each and every outcome, moving only when the odds were overwhelmingly in his favor. According to family gossip, Xaemar was celibate, never drank, and on average, got only half a night's sleep each day. The rest of his time was spent at the desk in his study, dreaming up ever more elaborate business ploys. Warian studied him. More wrinkles gouged his face, but the biggest change in Xaemar since Warian had last seen him were several crystal prostheses-Xaemar was a plangent.
As Warian glanced around, he saw that every family member present sported extensive prostheses, save for Zel and himself.
To his right was Aunt Sevaera, and next to her, Zeltaebar. Zeltaebar looked half asleep, but Warian doubted that Zel, despite his slouching