"You almost won," Gurgeh told her. "Forty-four moves; you're getting very good."

"Relatively," Yay said, drinking. "Only relatively." She lay back on the deep couch while Gurgeh put the pieces back to their starting positions and Chamlis Amalk-ney drifted over to float not-quite-between them. "You know," Yay said, looking at the ornate ceiling, "I always like the way this house smells, Gurgeh." She turned to look at the drone. "Don't you, Chamlis?"

The machine's aura field dipped briefly to one side; a drone shrug. "Yes. Probably because the wood our host is burning is bonise; it was developed millennia ago by the old Waverian civilisation specifically for its fragrance when ignited."

"Yes, well, it's a nice smell," Yay said, getting up and going back to the windows. She shook her head. "Sure as shit rains a lot here though, Gurgeh."

"It's the mountains," the man explained.

Yay glanced round, one eyebrow arched. "You don't say?"

Gurgeh smiled and smoothed one hand over his neatly trimmed beard. "How is the landscaping going, Yay?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She shook her head at the continuing downpour. "What weather." She tossed her drink back. "No wonder you live by yourself, Gurgeh."

"Oh, that isn't the rain, Yay." Gurgeh said. "That's me. Nobody can stand to live with me for long."

"He means," Chamlis said, "that he couldn't stand to live for long with anybody."

"I'd believe either," Yay said, coming back to the couch again. She sat cross-legged on it and played with one of the pieces on the game-board. "What did you think of the game, Chamlis?"

"You have reached the likely limits of your technical ability, but your flair continues to develop. I doubt you'll ever beat Gurgeh, though."