And I hadn’t the faintest idea I was doing it until I felt her stiffen in shock.
“I’m sorry!” I jerked away from her, hiding my face in my hands. “Amrita, I told you not to touch me!”
“I’m not sure I minded, actually.” There was a surprisingly pragmatic note in her musical voice. “It felt rather nice. After all, the role of the sainted widow can be a lonely one.” Her hands tugged at mine, lowering them. Reluctantly, I lifted my head and met her dark, lustrous gaze. A little silence came between us. “Would it help?” she asked me.
Like a shower of golden sparks, her words and their meaning fell drifting through my awareness.
“Yes,” I said simply.
“Well, then.” Amrita smiled at me. “You will have to show me what to do, Moirin, for I confess, I have no idea.”
“Gladly,” I whispered, cupping her face in my hands and kissing her. I felt her lips soften and part beneath mine.
The bright lady smiled, setting loose a flurry of doves.
“Oh!” Amrita sounded surprised. “Well, that is different.”
I sat back on my heels. “Does it displease you?”
“No.” She smiled at me beneath her lashes. “Not at all, actually. Show me more, Moirin.”
I did.
Gold; she was like gold, something pure and shining in the midst of this mess. And like an alchemist’s magic, her kindness transmuted the base metal of the desire that racked me into something golden and pure. I undressed her reverently until she was clad in nothing but bangles and tinkling anklets, kissing every inch of amber skin I uncovered, until she shivered and wrapped her arms around me, murmuring my name. I knew it was compassion, and not desire, that lay behind her offer, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t please her-and that alone would have been enough for me. But it was in Amrita’s nature to be generous, and she did her best to return the gift of pleasure that I showered on her.
Bit by bit, the terrible, searing need drained away from me. Afterward, I couldn’t find enough words to thank her.
“I am not sure it is necessary, dear one.” She laughed her chiming laugh. “You have considerable skill in your art.”
I smiled. “I take considerable pleasure in it.”
Amrita stretched languorously. “That cursed Jagrati was right about one thing. It was certainly interesting. You are a veritable poet of desire, Moirin.” She gave me a serious look. “Do you feel better now?”
“Oh, yes.” I kissed the graceful curve of her bare shoulder, gleaming in the lamplight. There were still a thousand fears and worries pressing me, but in this moment, Amrita’s presence held them at bay. “If there is room in the world for love, there is room for hope. Although mayhap you will have to be more fearful of Kamadeva’s diamond now,” I teased her.
“Do not even think it!” She tapped my lips in reproach. “I could never have done this if I did not care for you, Moirin. Never.”
“I know.” I caught her hand and kissed that, too. “I know the difference between kindness and genuine desire, my lady. And I am very, very grateful.”
“Yes, I know,” Amrita said humorously. “You do not need to demonstrate it again. I am a little worn out by your gratitude.” She fell silent, thinking. Sensing her mood shift, I kept my own silence. “I think perhaps Jagrati may have said more than one true thing,” she said presently. “What she said about the way the world treats those unfortunate ones born outside of a caste… they were harsh words, but they have stayed with me.” She glanced at me. “I have not forgotten what you said about ambitious men attempting to shape the gods to serve their own ends. And I do not think you would disagree with what Jagrati said to me.”
“No,” I murmured. “I don’t. But that does not give her the right to become a monster, treating the lives of others as playthings to be stolen or destroyed.”
“No, but it tells us something about how the monster was made,” Amrita said. “And perhaps we must take some responsibility for it.” She frowned a little. “There was a sadhu in Galanka when I was a girl, a holy man who had renounced all things of the world, who refused to shun the untouchables. I wonder if he is still there, and if there are others like him.”
“Yeshua ben Yosef went among folk you would reckon unclean and tended to them,” I offered. It was one of the things Aleksei had taught me. “Lepers, beggars.”
“So did your D’Angeline gods when they passed through Bhodistan. I remember my father discussing it with an ambassador, for he sent me away when he caught me listening.” She sat upright and began winding her hair into a knot. “I have been thinking, trying to make sense of our failure, Moirin. Five men slain, and for nothing! I was certain that the gods sent you to me for a reason-”
“So was I, my lady,” I said. “And I am so very sorry-”
“Hush.” Amrita touched my lips again, gently this time. “Let me finish, young goddess. I was also certain that I knew the reason, that it was to rid the world of the Falconer and his Spider Queen. But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps that was not it at all, and Jagrati’s harsh words were part of the message I was meant to hear. What do you think?”
I gazed at her beautiful face, my heart feeling very full. “My lady Amrita, I cannot say. I only know for sure that if I were a Bhodistani god with a message of compassion to deliver, I could choose no one better in the world than you to hear it. However…” I glanced toward the balcony, and saw that it was fully dark outside. “There is still the matter of the Falconer’s assassins, and I think it would be best if you went to the hidden room now, and we talk more in the morning.”
“You will be all right?” she inquired.
I nodded. “I have Ravindra’s bells to warn me, and the twilight to protect me.”
“Very well, then.” Amrita smiled. “I hope your sleep is peaceful.”
I smiled back at her. “I daresay it will be.”
For a mercy, it was. After I had helped Amrita dress and seen her safely into the custody of her guardsmen, I returned to my bed, which smelled of flowers, spices, and love-making. The bright lady was pleased, and so was I. I didn’t think Amrita understood how great a gift she had given me. It wasn’t just that she had quenched the fire of yearning that Kamadeva’s diamond had ignited in me. I was Naamah’s child, and I needed love and aye, pleasure, almost as much as food and water.
Until tonight, I hadn’t known how starved I was.
Tomorrow, I thought, I would consult my diadh-anam and pray to every god I knew that I could figure out what to do about Bao, the bedamned Jagrati, and Kamadeva’s bedamned diamond.
Tonight, I would sleep and be grateful for the profound gift I had been given.
And so I did, deep and dreamless, wrapped in the lingering grace of Naamah’s approval… until I awoke in the small hours of the night with my diadh-anam blazing like wildfire, and a shadowy figure in the bedchamber with me, the length of a staff strapped across its back.
I sat up and stared. “Bao?”
SIXTY-FOUR
Shh!” In the space of a heartbeat, the shadowy figure crossed the room and fell upon me, pinning me to the bed and clamping one callused hand over my mouth, setting the point of a dagger at my throat.
Bao.
It was Bao.
I stared up at him, scared and bewildered. I should have known. I should have felt him coming; but my awareness had been too entangled, first by Kamadeva’s diamond, then by Amrita’s loving kindness and Naamah’s grace.
“I need to know!” Bao hissed at me, his eyes wild and shimmering, his expression desperate. “Who are you? What are you? Why are you here?” He prodded the hollow of my throat with the tip of his dagger. “What happened to Moirin?”