(Nine)

Remy watched as the sights of New Orleans passed him by and then they were driving through a more rural part of the City. Babette's Master had a limo sent to the hotel and it picked them up for the ride to where Remy's strange new Siskan friend lived. Before they left, Remy made arrangements for his motorcycle to be sent back to the LeBeau house with a note saying he was okay and that he would be home soon. He hadn't called home since he had left so abruptly and didn't want his Tante to worry.

Babette was quiet in the car, looking out the windows, lost in her thoughts. Remy knew this neighborhood well. It was an area reserved for the wealthy and he had grown up not too far from here. He even recognized the gates they pulled up to. He realized they were heading to one of the first houses he had broken into as a child and he couldn't suppress a small laugh of irony.

"Amuses you, something does?" Babette asked coyly.

"Jus' life, chere. Jus' life."

He had broken into the house...well, he had tried. He was still a novice at the time and easily deterred, but even he could see this house had extraordinary defenses. This was the house where Jean Luc sent all of the new thieves to be tested. He had broken a window, grabbed a statue and fled. He had been chased by dogs - and something else. Something he couldn't explain. Looking back on it now, it had been right there all along. He had been chased away by a powerful telekinetic, someone who was powerful enough to create the spikes as Kimble did and toss them at him. He was just too young and unworldly to have known it at the time. His father had, he knew that now. All the young ones had been sent to a place that was impossible to penetrate, the perfect test.

The gates they had come to were made of black wrought iron with small gothic figures of angels worked onto the bars. The impressive structure opened automatically and the vehicle next drove down an impossibly long driveway. Gambit knew just how long it was because he'd had to walk all the way from the street the first time he had been here and wasn't too happy about it. It seemed like a mile at the time. All along its great length were large lovely trees dripping down leaves and shade.

At last they arrived at the house and came to a stop. The house was enormous, much larger than his father's house had been. It was constructed in the old plantation style, having long porches that surrounded the house with the long tall pillars out front. More lovely weeping willows draped down their long branches all about, making the place cheerful and inviting as opposed to being oppressive because of its size. The windows were high, almost like doors, allowing ample sunlight to stream inside. That was why it had been so tempting for Gambit as a young thief to simply smash his way in. It lacked finesse but he certainly had plenty of windows to chose from.

No one was there to greet them from the house, they simply stepped out of the car and it drove away to a large garage nearby. Babette led him up the large granite steps up to the house. They entered through a large wooden door into a foyer with stairs that rose up on either side to the upper level. Babette led him up the stairs and down an impossibly long hallway to what appeared to be a library office. Gambit knew the layout well enough, these big old houses never seemed to change. The only surprise came when she led him into the large study and the man who faced him was not even the least bit human.

"Good morrow," the Dognan officer greeted him in perfect Siskan, testing him.

"Good morrow," Remy returned, hoping this was the correct response.

This strange creature standing before him was huge and fully Dognan, not a scrappy half breed like Jael. It was obvious in the richness of his fur and his fine clothing. He was dressed in a finely crafted cavalry style uniform with all the markings and gold sashes of high office. He also possessed the bent legs of a cat and batlike wings as Fallen did, only brown and lightly furred. His long salt and pepper hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail and a gentle smile teased his whiskers as he looked on Remy with great interest. This was a member of the Dognan elite, Gambit knew instinctively. Some kind of royalty. This was getting interesting indeed.

"Babette," The man grumbled softly, his pleasant voice deep and low as Frishnan's had been. Frishnan was a Dognan officer Remy had encountered when he had been abducted with Wolverine and Beast in that slave raid so long ago. Frishnan had rank, but he wasn't royalty. He didn't have wings, only a nice uniform.

She glided over to him and crouched at his feet. "Master."

He gently stroked her head and regarded his visitor. "I am Trishnar. How may I be of service?"

Gambit introduced himself with a slight bow. "Remy LeBeau."

"Yes, I know. An X-man and a member of the Thieves Guild. I am sorry to hear of the death of your father, he was a good man."

"You knew my father?"

"Of course. He had an amusing habit of sending tender young thieves to my house to rob me. I have lived here a long time, Mr. LeBeau. I know everyone here in New Orleans, including you. You're the only one to breach my defenses, I still remember the look of triumph on your face as you did. That and the look of terror as I sent my most treasured guard after you. Aiden does so enjoy toying with his prey. Tell me, do you still have my statue?" Trishnar paused, enjoying the look of amused surprise on Gambit's face. The thief had no idea he had been recognized. "No matter, it wasn't valuable or I would have sent for it. You have a playing piece. Tell me you aren't trying to join the Game. Only Dognan Royalty can play. You are hardly qualified."

Gambit's brain was working fast, confused by Trishnar changing tack. He had no clue what was going on and was afraid his lack of knowledge would get him thrown out. "Jael, 'e Royalty, too? 'E look only half."

Trishnar growled a low laugh. "No, he's not of a Royal House, but his father was so I guess that excuses him. Besides, he holds more pieces than me at the moment. That could change of course. I offer you one million dollars for yours."

Gambit almost choked with surprise. " 'E's broken," he said, going out on a limb. Trishnar had to be talking about Kimble.

"The Games Master can fix him easily enough."

"P'etetre, Gambit could talk to dis Games Master, eh?"

Trishnar laughed again, cocking his head in curiosity. "He only comes out once a year, in the Spring. He won't be here for at least another month. What puzzles me is why you care. The pieces hold their value broken or not."

"Dis one mean sumptin' to me."

"It's so easy to fall in love with them, isn't it?" the Dognan officer asked with a knowing smile. He petted the head of Babette with real affection. "They care so very much."

"'Ow many you 'ave?"

"Six. And I love them all. It took me years to find them. What fun is a Game if it doesn't last for a long time?"

Remy was thinking quickly. He recalled Kimble saying something about how the Dognan loved to gamble. They would bet on the packs in the pens.

"Forgive me," Trishnar said expansively. "It's been a long time since I've had visitors for pleasure. May I offer you a brandy? "

"Dat'd be nice. Merci," Remy said, being polite. He hated the stuff but wanted to be here as long as possible. He wanted to learn as much as he could before Trishnar saw him for the fraud he was.

Babette rose quickly and went to a small bar in the corner. Trishnar tracked her every movement. "Did you enjoy my Babette? She is my favorite, you know. She's restless and I've learned to let her out now and again. Being cooped up troubles her."

"Yeah, my Kimble de same way."

Something flickered across Trishnar's eyes. "Kimble did you say?"

Remy saw it, not sure what to say next. "Yeah. Dat's my boy. Kimble."

"Hmm. I was wondering where that one had gotten to."

What de 'ell does dat mean? Boy, Remy. You in way over your head! Gambit thought to himself in a restrained panic. His voice was steady as he inquired, "You know 'im?"

"Yes. He was put into the Game early, but disappeared. Quite frankly, I had assumed he was destroyed. Wherever did you find him?"

Remy smiled at Babette as she gave him his drink. He quirked an eyebrow when he saw she had given him a double shot of whisky in a tall glass instead. She had read his shine, knew what he liked and what he didn't. "Merci, chere," he said softly before turning back to Trishnar. "De Clan 'ad 'im. 'E found me."

"Ah, yes. The Clan. Haven't heard of them in ages. But how do you know of them? They are kind of far away for a human like you."

"Got a one way ticket on de Dognan Express," Remy replied, opting for the truth. "We got picked up by slavers about a year ago by accident. Took de scenic route on de way 'ome."

"Not without a pilot you didn't."

Remy just grinned. "Well you know, de LeBeaus get around. We 'ave a knack for findin' what we need."

Trishnar laughed again. He seemed very relaxed and not as arrogant as the other Dognan officers Remy had met. "Too true. Too true. Let's be honest, you and I. I know you don't know about the Game and that you must have acquired your piece by accident. I knew your father well and admired him greatly. I owed him a favor, a large one, and so I will pass it on to you. Whatever you want, name it."

Remy took a deep breath. "I want Kimble fixed."

"In what way is he damaged?"

"He's split."

"Uhm hmm, yes. That's very common, you know. These pieces, they are all empaths, all "defective" Siskan 'grams. The Lushna-esk they were called back on Siska. The Games Master knows the Siskan codes. If you find him, he can do the repair."

"Where do I find 'im?"

"Every March, he comes to Yosemite National Park. He's a lover of wilderness and often camps out there for a month or so. He will be disguised, so you must be clever. I could send him a message so he'll look out for you."

"Is 'e Dognan like you?"

"Of course, we all are. He designed the Game. He marked special Siskan 'grams and scattered them for us to find."

"Dis a scavenger hunt?" Remy asked, incredulous.

"You're a quick study. I like that in a human. Yes, a scavenger hunt it is."

Gambit couldn't help but be a little angry. "You know Jael been killin' folks to find 'is pieces? You playin' wit people's lives."

Trishnar just grinned. "When you live as long as we do, that's all there is to play with that provides any excitement."

Gambit fumed quietly, not wanting to insult his host. He swirled his whiskey in the glass and sipped it, irritably.

"You are upset. I'm sorry. You must forgive our arrogance. We are a species that makes a living from conquering and absorbing other beings into our culture. This Game is a reflection of that. Besides, the fact that the Game has come here is good for you."

"Good? 'Ow's dat?"

"It will keep my people from swamping your world and taking it over. Alphas intrigue us. You can power the 'grams and perpetuate the Game. This world is best left as it is. I have the authority to see that it remains so."

"Why's dat? You a King?"

Trishnar smiled his toothy grin. "Actually, yes."

Gambit froze. "No horse shit?"

The Dognan man laughed. "No horse shit."

"If you a King, you can do anyt'ing. Take Kimble out of de Game s'il vous plait."

"No. He has already been Marked. The pieces will be finding their angels soon. It cannot be done."

"What are de angels?"

"Each piece had been implanted with a pre-set code. They have to find something as part of the Game. Each one will find an object of value and power. Whoever holds the most Guardians, will possess the most power."

"Jael, 'e's t'inkin' 'e can take over dis world wit dat power. What den?"

"Jael is a tiny little fool with only half a House to inherit. He cannot do as he wishes, no matter how many pieces he holds. Taking over this world is not the object of the Game."

"What else he gonna do wit all of 'is power? Don' sound like 'e got any other plans, homme."

"I will not permit this world to come to any harm. Jael is not a problem for you in that sense. I would look after your piece, though. Not all Guardians are created equal. In Kimble I have always sensed something special."

"You met 'im?"

"Yes, long ago. I was in charge of the crew that absorbed the Siskans. Me and the Games Master. We were quite taken by the empathic 'grams. We found sixty in all. Kimble was brought to me from the "box" as he called it. A Siskan prison. I enjoyed him very much, but didn't know him long. He was stolen from me after he had been with me only just a few days. I heard the House of Gildon took him. Jealous they were of our Siskans. Gildon is Jael's House. I suppose he believes Kimble belongs to him for that reason, but Kimble is truly mine since I had him first." He saw the look in Gambit's eyes and smiled. "Have no fear. I won't take him from you. If you came all this way for him, then I'd say he belongs to me no more. Enjoy him, Mr. LeBeau. He will love you like no other. Tell me, what does he look like now?"

"He a pilot."

"How magnificent. I've always loved the look of them. I have three myself. Prefers to be a male? He did when I had him as well."

"Yeah."

"A male pilot? That's different. I would love to see him." He smiled when Remy paused to give him a photograph. It was one of Mary's, a souvenir from Creed's penthouse. Trishnar took in Kimble's green Mark and the strength in his eyes. "Yes, I can see why you love him, he's magnificent. How lovely. He must be a handful, I can see the spirit of him. The strongest ones always are. They have such strength, it's why they often prefer to be male. What a powerful Channeler he will be."

"What dis Channeler? Is it dat trick he do wit de sword?"

Trishnar's eyes widened. "He's presenting already? How extraordinary. He's stronger than I imagined. Guard him well." It was all Trishnar was going to say on the matter. "I'm sorry I can't be more helpful, it's against the rules of the Game for me to tell you everything. It is a Game after all. What's a Game without some mystery? Anyway, have you found enough answers to satisfy you for the moment?" Trishnar asked, giving the photo back.

"Not really, non, but Gambit will take what he can get. You can't fix Kimble y'self?"

"No, my friend. My knowledge of Siskan only goes as far as the language. You speak it very well. How did you learn?"

"Kimble taught me." It was the simplest explanation.

"How nice. Is that all he taught you?" Trishnar asked suggestively.

"For de moment, yeah. You gonna let de Games Master know I'll be lookin' for 'im?" Remy asked, swiftly changing the subject.

"Of course. Here, take this." Trishnar opened a drawer on his desk and handed him a necklace. It held a pendant of a woman on a sword like the Marks the Guardians wore. "Show him this. He will know it came from me."

"Is dere anyt'ing I can do in de meantime to 'elp Kimble?"

"Just love him. These 'grams thrive on it, you know. It's what makes them so enjoyable."

"T'anks for all your 'elp."

"My pleasure. You are welcome to stay here for a while if you like. You look like you could use the rest and perhaps my Siskans could educate you," Trishnar suggested with a strange smile.

Remy was stunned at the generous offer, he had hardly expected it. On the one hand Trishnar had pretty much spelled they out they were in fact competitors in this mysterious Game, but yet Remy could only sense benign interest from the man. He also had no doubt these Siskans would give him the education of a lifetime and then some. A small price to pay for the knowledge he so desperately needed. "I might jus' do dat."

"Splendid!" Trishnar replied happily. It seemed as though he had expected Remy to politely refuse and was clearly thrilled he had actually accepted. "Then I shall have Babette prepare a room for you. I will caution you that my Siskans are very protective of me. In this house, it is not wise to be a thief, LeBeau or not."

Gambit bowed with a smile. "I'm reformed, y' know."

"The shoes Babette brought home the last time she was with you tell me otherwise. Enjoy your stay, Mr. LeBeau."

To be continued in The King and Me.