She was shaking, but still she looked at him. "Do.... do you have anything for me to wear?" she whispered. "This.... this will fall apart before long. I didn't see anything, but...."
"I didn't bring much with me."
"I noticed," she replied, still looking at him.
"Perhaps a spare jacket can be re-made into some sort of dress," he said. She was quite a bit shorter than he was, and one of his jackets might do as a dress in a pinch. "There is sewing equipment there somewhere. I will do what I can when I have time."
"I can sew."
He looked at her. "How does the daughter of a noble house know how to sew?"
"I watched the servants. A needle looked a lot like a sword and I used to.... pretend I was a soldier. That is why I learned. At.... At Gorash, I survived by doing sewing work and repairs. It was.... better than the other way."
He nodded. "You pretended to be a soldier."
"I wanted to be a soldier. I wanted to be.... strong."
"You think the life of a soldier means you become strong?"
"Don't you? I thought that.... the training, the battles. If I'd been.... stronger, I'd have.... got away from that.... man.... myself. You are.... strong."
"Yes, I am. I have been a soldier all my life. I am strong, but I am also lucky. I have known better soldiers than me. Much better. They're all dead now. Strength isn't everything."
"But if I just knew how to fight, then...."
"I taught Lyndisty how to fight. I taught her how to use a kutari, a maurestii, her bare hands, countless other weapons. She was fast, she was clever, she was a better fighter than I ever was, or ever will be, and she is dead."
"I'm sorry," Senna whispered. "But I am not her."
"No," he replied curtly. "And you never will be. If you wish to sew the jacket yourself, feel free. There is a red one over there. I do not know what the colour will do for you, but it is the lightest jacket I have, and the fabric is not too rough. It should.... do. For the moment."
"There was something else as well," she said. "I.... I found this." She held out something to him, and his eyes narrowed. He moved forward and snatched it from her hands. It was a locket, made of fine gold.
"Don't touch that," he snapped. "Don't ever touch that again!"
"I'm sorry," she breathed. Her eyes were wide, and her face very pale. "I didn't mean to...." Then she straightened. "Are you going to hit me?" she snapped. All trace of fear seemed to have vanished from her face. "If you are, then do it."
"I'm not going to hit you," he replied, angry and confused and upset. "I have to go and train."
"I tried to leave," she said quickly, moving forward to catch him as he made for the door. "The Drazi wouldn't let me. All I wanted to do was watch them train. Take me with you....
"Please."
"No," he replied. "If you feel you are capable of it, try to take in that jacket for a dress. Or feel free to read. There are some books in that box there. Or go to sleep and rest.
"But you will not be allowed to leave here."
"Why not?" she hissed. "If that.... man comes looking for me, then.... All he can do is kill me, and I'm not afraid of that.... I'm not," she added, choking.
"By the Emperor," he sighed. "You are a fool, girl. He has already killed you. You just have not realised that yet."
She took a step back, and then another one, and then she collapsed on to the bed, sobbing into it. For a moment he made to turn back to her, but then he stopped.
She was not Lyndisty. His daughter was dead, and he would never see her again, not unless Sinoval chose to grant him some of that immortality of his, and he was present at the next Day of the Dead.
She was not Lyndisty. She never would be. She was a.... He paused. He did not know what she was. She was still crying.
He left for his training session.
"A nice view."
"It is, isn't it?"
Susan sighed. It was a sound David had heard several times during the period they had been together. It was a sound of utmost exasperation, verging on disgust at his incredible idealism and naivet?, a sound born of her deep-rooted cynicism.
"I was being sarcastic," she replied, tiredly.
"I know. I wasn't."
He looked down on the view before them, at the lake below the hill. Once it must have been beautiful, a breathtaking sight. He had heard some of the older workers talking about the light from the rising sun shining across the water. Each drop seemed to light up one by one, a miniature candle rising into the heavens.
But now.... now the sky was thick and heavy, and what sunlight there was was muted and grey. The water was saturated with silt and mud. It was dull brown, a viscous sludge rather than a torrent.
It was a sign, a reminder always to beware of the consequences of every action you ever took. David came here often.
"What do they call this place anyway?"
"The hill is called Turon'val'na lenn-veni," he said. "I don't know what the lake is called. The name means...."
"The Place Where Valen Waits," Susan finished. "What was he waiting for, do you think?"
"I don't know. I suppose I could ask someone."
"You could."
There was a pause.
A long pause.
It grew longer.
....
And longer.
"So," Susan said at last.
"So," David replied.
"You never answered my question," Susan said. "What are you doing here? This is the last place I'd ever have expected to find you."
"I live here now. I came here to.... work, I suppose. To rebuild, to.... make right a few things. I did.... a lot of things I hated during the war. I did this, Susan. Me, or people like me. I suppose helping to rebuild it is partly a gesture towards undoing all the things I did then. Does that make any sense to you?"
"No, but then I didn't expect your answer to make any sense. This wasn't your fault, you know."
"Yes it was. I could have done more to prevent it. I could have done.... something."
She sighed again, and shook her head. "I swear I really do not understand you sometimes. If I ever did."
"If we are talking about things not making any sense, what are you doing here? I thought you were dead, or.... gone or something. The last I heard you'd been taken back to Z'ha'dum during the peace treaty talks. And then.... nothing. What have you been doing?"
"Sleeping. That's not a metaphor, by the way. I must have slept almost a whole year. I spoke the entire time."
"I remember you talking in your sleep, Susan. You kept me awake half the night."
"Oh, come now. That wasn't just me talking. No, I.... I needed to clear my mind about a lot of things. There was someone there to talk to me, to explain a few things. I slept to heal my body, and I spoke to heal my mind."
"Who were you talking to?"
"It's.... I really can't explain. If you haven't seen him, then.... I'm sorry, David. I can't tell you. I really can't."
He sat up straight, tensing. "So why are you here? Who was that you were talking to in the temple?"
"I can't tell you, David. Please don't make me."
"You're working for the Shadows, aren't you? Still. After everything they've done to you, you're still working for them. It's over, Susan, the war's...."
"No! David, listen to me. I'm not working for the Shadows. They've gone. I'm not working for them. I was a lot younger the first time I met them. I was scared, and.... I felt so alone. But now.... I feel a lot stronger now. I know what I'm doing, and why. Trust me, David. This is right."
"Sinoval," he said suddenly. "You're working for him, aren't you?"
"I can't say anything more."
"Susan, he's dangerous. He'll get you killed. He's...."
"No one is going to get me killed. Sinoval is.... difficult, yes. And driven, and more than a little frightening at times, but he's a good friend."