In which there is a death in the family.
I do really appreciate the glimpses we get in this novel of Birin Caylon, the human being behind Delm Mizel. Possibly the more so because there are so few of them.
In which Aelliana invents a solar system.
There’s a parallel going on here between the situations of Aelliana and Samiv. Neither of them is getting the care they ought to be able to expect from their own clans. Both of them have an opportunity to appeal to Daav for assistance, and impediments to grasping the opportunity. (It’s a sign probably of Samiv’s desperation as much as anything that she has actually taken that step — especially after her delm expressly forbade her to.)
I wonder… if Aelliana had also decided to turn to Daav, would she have ended up waiting in the same room as Samiv? What would they have talked about? Probably not, though; I expect when you have a house as big as Korval does, the standard routine is for the butler to leave each visitor waiting in a different room, and probably not even let them know there are other visitors unless instructed otherwise. (And anyway, if Aelliana had decided to turn to Daav, she’d have phoned instead of turning up on his doorstep, the location of which is still unknown to her.)
In which Nadelm Mizel demands to see Master Binjali.
I had not noticed on earlier readings how much Ran Eld was bothered by Clonak’s facial hair. (Nor, consequently, that when Clonak strokes his mustache he’s probably deliberately playing up to see how much more bothered he can make him.)
Frad’s remark that Ran Eld doesn’t appear to appreciate Aelliana’s flight points out another aspect of Ran Eld’s blinkered view that I hadn’t considered previously. It’s not so much that he doesn’t know how impressive the piloting was, since I can see where a non-pilot might not grasp that — but there’s no indication, in the last chapter or this, that Ran Eld has even noticed that Aelliana helped save somebody’s life. As far as Ran Eld is concerned, this is apparently an entirely irrelevant detail.
In which there is dinner, dancing, distinction, and a difficult decision.
Aelliana’s speculation about Daav’s ringless finger reminds me that this is a parallel to Local Custom, where Er Thom also spent a significant portion going about without his ring of rank. Or perhaps not so much a parallel as a reflection, because in a way the situation here is a reverse: Er Thom’s lack of ring was a punishment, but Daav’s is more in the way of a much-needed vacation.
And when Aelliana asks him what he has around his neck, and he replies, “A chain”, it’s an obvious dodge into literal-mindedness — but it also works as an honest (perhaps more honest than he intended?) description of how he regards the delm’s ring.
I think I was a bit uncharitable toward Olwen sel’Iprith back in Local Custom. If Frad is any indication, all the members of Daav’s former team are very close, just not the kind of close that, say, Er Thom and Anne are. (Or, as we can confidently say after the happenings of this chapter, Daav and Aelliana.)
And here’s a fun thing I noticed for the first time on this re-read: the authors are ingeniously uninformative as regards the genders of Trilla’s and Frad’s chosen table partners. We learn that Frad’s companion is a redheaded Scout, and Trilla’s companions are both described as dancers, but do we get a single gendered pronoun between the three of them? We do not.
In which Aelliana frames and tries a piloting addendum under stringent field conditions.
I have to admit that the details of Aelliana’s course addendum go straight over my head. But it certainly sounds impressive.
The quote at the beginning of this chapter is the fragment that eventually grew into the short story “The Space at Tinsori Light” (which, chronological order being what it is, we have already had). Here, its purpose is only to add another angle to the introduction of the pilot’s ring.
In which Aelliana dances.
Daav doesn’t appear too put out that Aelliana has realised he tipped off Zan Der pel’Kermin, even though he asked that worthy person not mention his intervention. I surmise that he wouldn’t have minded Aelliana being told about Daav’s involvement, but wished to avoid any mention of that inconvenient person Delm Korval.
Things are going well for Aelliana and Daav at this point, but last chapter and this contain reminders that they both have troubles lurking in the background which, when they strike, are only going to strike the harder for having been successfully dodged thus far.
In which several people ask, reluctantly, “Now what?”
I’ve said this before, in the comments under Chapter 39 of Local Custom, but I might as well say it again so it appears in a post: I don’t believe that lifemating works on the basis of there being a pair of people predestined to join together. (Which is a relief, because it’s a pretty horrifying idea, as Daav suggests here: what if something happens to one half of the match before they meet, and the other is left forever incomplete?) Every time we see a lifemate bond form in this series, it’s a consequence, not a cause, something that happens to a pair of people who have already joined together in other ways. It makes sense that some people can’t form a lifemate bond at all, and that those can can’t do it with just anybody, but I don’t believe it’s as reductive as each person having one and only one possible partner.
Here’s an interesting sentence: “Jelaza Kazone had not spoken and he wished, with everything in him, to be at Binjali’s.” Is it that the Tree did manage to suggest an idea to Daav without him realising, or is it that the Tree didn’t speak because it knew that he was already, on his own initiative and by his own desire, going to do what it would have told him to do?
In which Samiv tel’Izak is introduced to the Tree.
The Tree disapproves of Samiv tel’Izak, and is not shy of making its disapproval known. What the basis of its disapproval might be is less easy to see. It’s unlikely to be merely that marrying her would make Daav unhappy; the happiness of its fellow creatures has not always been the Tree’s primary concern, and Daav was making some progress toward a comfortable union before the Tree itself stomped on his efforts.
One suspects that it disapproves of Pilot tel’Izak because she is not Aelliana Caylon and the Tree has realised, as Daav has not yet, that Aelliana Caylon is an available possibility. Presumably it’s aware of Aelliana second-hand, through Daav — though one does wonder what other sources of information it might have, remembering that it was a suggestion from the Tree which put Daav in Pilot Caylon’s path in the first place…
In which Delm Korval goes visiting.
Zan Der pel’Kirmin and his family join the collection of impressively detailed one-off characters. From the little we get to see of them, I like them a lot.
Ran Eld is locking himself into a course that’s going to take him nowhere good; every hint he gets that he might be in serious trouble is just making him stick to it with greater determination. It doesn’t help that his mother doesn’t seem to have realised how much trouble he’s in either; another delm might have twigged, for better or for worse, that there’s more to Ran Eld’s enthusiasm for this scheme than just misguided optimism. Is Ran Eld that good at deceiving her, or does she just not want to consider that her bright-eyed boy might be mixed up in something really nasty? A bit of each, perhaps.
In which Aelliana receives the fruits of her previous day’s work.
A relatively quiet chapter, after all the excitement, though perhaps the calm before a storm. It worries me that I can’t remember what it portends that Aelliana has been left undisturbed, nor why the house is so quiet.
“She thought the tables had been revised fifty or sixty years ago!” I suppose when eight years is half one’s lifetime, the difference between eight years and fifty is not so significant as all that.