Talyn dropped his mental blocks, attempting to find out what was going on inside.

"...is disrespectful and a backtalker," Kheeeahh was saying. "Why have you brought home someone who does not respect adults in their own home?"

"He... he was just... he wanted to be helpful," Leekath said. "I forgot to tell him what to expect. I'm sorry, Fheeil."

"Even a girl who hears voices should be able to find a boy who does not disobey his host while he is a guest," Kheeeahh continued. "There are many boys here in Esmaar. Vampire boys, even. Boys who know how to behave."

Talyn had a hard time just standing outside the door, but he continued to listen for the moment.

"Your sister has a very respectful boyfriend from a good clan," Kheeeahh went on. "She found him just down the street. You have gone all the way to another world to find a boy and this is who you bring home? I am very disappointed, Aaeeihhyleekatheeei. Your aaihhhi is not going to be pleased either."

"Aaihhhi said that if -" Leekath began.

"Your aaihhhi said that if you were happy, that would be enough," Kheeeahh said. "But right now, you do not look happy. This is because you know you have disappointed your family. You would do better to find someone else, Aaeeihhyleekatheeei."

There was a silence. Then Kheeeahh said, "Go back to helping your cousin with his schoolwork. That is one thing you can do usefully."

"Yes, Fheeil," Leekath replied softly.

<I'm sorry, Leekath. Would you like me to apologize to him?>

<No! Don't try it. Wait. Aaihhhi will be done soon,> she replied frantically.

<As you wish. I'm sorry, Leekath. That was a miserable way for him to treat you.> Talyn sat on the doorstep.

<It's okay. It's normal. I'm fine. The continent of Mekand...> She cut off the sending, concentrating on geography with her little cousin.

Talyn continued to keep loosely tuned to the goings-on in the house, worried about Leekath. He waited patiently.

She ran through geography with the second cousin, and was then prevailed upon to help one of the other cousins with his math.

After about three hours, Thiies opened the door. "Hello," he said. "You seem to have had a misunderstanding with my husband. Do you want to talk out here or inside?"

"Whichever you prefer."

"I think after sitting at a desk all day it would do me good to spend some time outdoors," Thiies said, taking a seat next to Talyn on the doorstep.

The halfblood brought up his mental defenses again to block out stray thoughts. "I'm sorry if I caused any trouble."

"I'm sure it was all a misunderstanding," Thiies said.

Talyn nodded, unsure what to say.

"So," the vampire said, "how did you and Leekath meet?"

"She found out that someone else from my world had been summoned here and came to see who it was because she was curious. That someone was me. It was a bit of an accident that I was there at the time."

"I see. And what do you like about her?"

"I can't think of anything I don't like, really. She's beautiful, she's very smart, she's a good person. She's special. I like her smile."

"Mm, I see. What do - excuse me." A communication crystal in his pocket had started ringing. He picked it up and held it to his ear. "Aral Koretas? What? No! I told you once before, she can't have a stay of execution. If we don't rely on the police to do their job then society as a - no! I don't care. Parliamentary dispensations are to prevent only serious miscarriages of justice. Yes, yes, I know all about her rival who's a wizard. Research into what? Don't be ridiculous, there are no spells that can fool the police detections; they're first-rate. No, no, NO, for the last time, and if you want that cousin of yours to ever see a promotion you will stop asking me."

He tapped the crystal on the front step, re-pocketed it, and said, "I'm sorry about that. Anyway. What do you like to do in your spare time, Talyn?"

"Well, one of my favorite activities is horseback riding, but I can't do that here, since there are no horses. I tend to practice kamai in my spare time a lot - I like learning new things with it. I enjoy flying. And I like museums a lot."

"How do you go about flying? There's some kamai to let you do so?"

"Yes. Sort of like an air mage, from what I understand about them. There's also a shape-changing kamai that would allow one to fly, but it's really really advanced, and I haven't learned it."

"Mm. You know, I'm working on a resolution to have kamai legally recognized as a form of magic so that kyma can enter the government. Leekath writes me regularly about her studies and it sounds like a very versatile form of casting."

"It is. If you generalize especially. But even within a particular discipline, there's a lot of variety."

Thiies nodded. "What are you planning to do when you grow up?"

"Be a practicing kama. There are a lot less of them on my world than there are wizards here, so anyone who's studied it can make a good living at it. I don't expect I'll teach, though. I'm not a very good teacher."

"That sounds -" Another crystal rang; Thiies sighed, looked apologetically at Talyn, and answered it. "Yes? Oh, hello, Ar Tasken. No. Can't that wait? A'vi'Naav will - No, I can say with certainty that a'vi'Naav will not be endorsing that plan. You'd do better to drop the idea altogether. Yes. Oh, has there been word on who's replacing Riketaam? Hm, I'd call that a poor choice, but I suppose he knows his staff better than I. Oh, I don't know, probably Lithol - really! That explains it, then. No. I'll get to it later, Ar Tasken. You know I'm reliable to meet my deadlines. Yes, thank you." He taps and pockets the crystal. "That sounds promising," he said, smiling at Talyn.

"I like the idea. Um. Could I ask about that first call?"

"What about it?"

"Well, I'm just not really sure I understand the jurisprudence system here. Some the questions I asked the police chief in Paraasilan were things she couldn't answer."

"And?"

"She said a member of parliament would know. But I'm not sure if it's proper to ask you - especially just here and just now."

"I'll answer your questions if I can, Talyn," Thiies said, smiling.

"Well, first, I don't understand the difference between not providing a condemned prisoner food and not providing one air - apparently the first isn't considered a crime, but the second is. Why's that?"

"That's partly a practical problem with wards," the parliamentarian said, "which you'd have to ask a wizard about. However, it's also a question of the significance of denying each. Putting someone in a place with no air is comparable to, say, suffocating them, which is clearly an act of killing. In the case of confining a prisoner and not feeding them, the two things can be viewed separately. On the one hand, we're putting a dangerous criminal somewhere where they can't harm anyone. That's clearly acceptable. And on the other hand, we aren't giving them food - which, since most people don't make a regular habit out of giving food to criminals no matter where they're housed, is also clearly acceptable," he replied cheerily, sounding like he'd rehearsed the speech.

"Oh. It's different on my world." Talyn shrugged. "The next question was why do vampires not get some sort of perch in the be-put-to-death cells so they can sleep when everyone else can sleep on the ground? It's not exactly treating them all the same, from how I see it."

"That's also partly practical," said Thiies. "There's also a law about providing comfort to the condemned which, if you strip away the formal language, effectively means that one mustn't go out of one's way to make a criminal more comfortable while they're confined. That would partly defeat the purpose of punishment as a deterrent to others."

"Then why make the cells big enough that other people can sleep?"

"Again, practical," laughs the vampire. "But if it helps you understand it, bear in mind that a human or an elf will start to get uncomfortably thirsty in about the same amount of time as a vampire will start to suffer from serious sleep deprivation. So it's really not unfair at all, you see?" He clapped Talyn on the back in a paternal sort of way.

"Oh. I guess so. I've got two other questions that came to mind. Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

"Why is the intention to commit a crime a capital offense even if they didn't actually carry it out?"

"It's not intention, it's attempt," corrected Thiies. "But the reason is twofold. First, someone who merely attempted to commit a crime is just as likely as someone who succeeded at it to try again - and, in some cases, even more likely. Secondly, it makes very little sense to give a lesser punishment to someone with exactly the same plans, exactly the same intentions, and exactly the same attempt just because they fail as a result of bad luck or personal incompetence, doesn't it?"

"Perhaps. Which leads to my other question - why have capital punishment at all?"

"The alternatives would all require a serious drain on resources to keep dangerous and violent people alive at government expense," said Thiies solemnly. "Further, it would necessitate a relaxation of the wards around them to allow food and other items to pass through, which would undoubtedly cause a higher incidence of jailbreaks among people capable of doing serious harm - people imprisoned who aren't to be put to death do sometimes manage to escape from their wards, and it costs hundreds of police-hours already just recapturing escaped criminals to jail. It would be criminally irresponsible to allow that same failure rate to apply to murderers and rapists."

"If another option was available, do you think it might be considered?"

"It would probably depend on the option," said Thiies. "Even if it was viable, it would probably be subject to a great deal of research and much parliamentary discussion before it could be tried even on a local, experimental basis."

"Rewriting someone's personality to remove the criminal tendencies. It's the usual practice on my world."

"Hmm," said Thiies. "It sounds like a good idea in principle, and I'm not saying I don't believe you that it works, but it would be very hard to demonstrate to everyone's satisfaction, and there would probably be opposition from some camps."

"I've done it twice. It's a bit fiddly the first time, but it's not all that hard to do. Any reasonably competent mind-kama can learn it. Leekath could probably do it if I showed her. I don't know if you'd want to propose it or not, but I'd be willing to demonstrate if it'd help at any point."

"Explain it to Leekath," Thiies proposed, "and she can write me a letter that I can read when I have more time. I can put together a proposal that Parliament consider incorporoating it into the system."

"I'll do that. Thanks for listening." He sighed. "I don't like the idea of people dying. Even if they deserve it."

"Many young people feel that way," said Thiies sympathetically. "Now, do you have any more questions for me?"

"Just one at the moment. Anything I can do to fix the mess I caused in there?" He gestured back to the house. He grinned as he asked the question.

"Oh, don't worry about it," said the vampire. "Kheeeahh just runs a tight ship. You'll get along fine with him if you don't talk back, I'm sure."

"I just couldn't figure out what he wanted. None of it made sense."

"Well, I gather vampire's not your first language, no matter how good your accent is," said Thiies with a smile. "You probably just misunderstood his questions."

"More the point behind them. And no, it's not. There are no vampires on my world. Vampire's actually my fifth language."

"Impressive," chuckled Thiies.

"Thanks. I still don't know what he wanted though. I can't tell him everything about me because I won't be able to remember it all, and I didn't know what would be considered relevant, and he wouldn't narrow it down at all." He looked really perplexed.

"Oh, he just wants to know all about who our little girl is dating," said Thiies. "Don't worry about it."

"I didn't make a very good first impression, though."

"Don't worry about it," repeated the vampire, clapping Talyn on the back again. "Do you want to come back inside?"

"If I'm welcome."

"Of course you are," scoffed Thiies, getting to his feet.

"Any suggestions on behavioral patterns for me?"

"If you want to make a good impression on Kheeeahh, do what he asks if he asks you to do anything," advised Thiies. "That's really all it takes."

"What about everyone else?"

Thiies shrugged. "Actually, doing what people ask you to do is a pretty good universal strategy for making a good impression," he pointed out. "There are, obviously, cases where it's not appropriate."

Talyn nodded. "Is Leekath doing all right? I hope I didn't upset her - or get her in trouble."

"You know, I haven't spoken to her yet," said Thiies. "I'm sure she's fine, though."

"Oh. All right." He stood up, dusting himself off.

Thiies walked into the house, and Talyn followed.

Inside, Leekath was tutoring her cousin Kaee on Esmaarlan history. She glanced up when Talyn came in. "Hi," she said softly.

"So after the Vast Immigration when did Leraal become the official language?" asked Kaee. Leekath turned her attention back to the lesson.

"Hi," Talyn said, just as softly, moving to stand next to her.

"Thirty years after," said Leekath, "but it was spoken almost universally starting about ten years after the Vast Immigration had tapered off. Elvish didn't become a dead language until four hundred years later."

"Oh, okay," said Kaee. "I think I get it now."

"Good," said Leekath. Her cousin gathered up his books and skipped off.

Leekath sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling.

---

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