She stared at him.
"It could even be that our king, in his labyrinthine wisdom, buttressed with the voices of his ancestors-your ancestors, too, of course-has come to believe that we may have helped to bring our woeful situation upon ourselves."
Yasammez rose from the chair in a blind rage, her aspect abruptly jud¬dering about her, shadow-spikes flaring. Kayyin came closer to his prom¬ised death at that moment than ever before. Instead, she raised a trembling, ice-cold finger and pointed to the door.
He stood and bowed. "Yes, my lady. You need solitude, of course, and with the burdens you bear, you deserve it. I await our next conversation."
As he walked out the room behind him came to life with flickering shadows.
The strange, glaring sun had long since set. Yasammez sat in darkness.
A soft voice bloomed inside her head. "May I speak with you, Lady?"
She gave permission.
The far door opened. The visitor glided in like a leaf carried on a stream. She was tall, almost as tall as Yasammez herself, and slender as a young wil¬low. Her white, hooded robe seemed to move too slowly for her progress, billowing like something underwater.
"Have things changed, Aesi'uah?" Yasammez asked.
The woman stopped before the chair and made a ritual obeisance of spread hands as her strange, still face lifted to Yasammez. Her pale blue eyes gleamed like sunlight through stained glass, giving the face a little anima¬tion: but for that effulgent stare she might have been an ancient statue. "Lady, things have, but only slightly. Still, I thought you should be told."
Someone other than Yasammez, someone other than the famously im¬perturbable Lady Porcupine, might have sighed. Instead she only nodded.
Her chief eremite spread her arms again, this time in the posture of bringing-the-truth. Aesi'uah was of Dreamless blood, and although that blood had been diluted by her Qar heritage, she had inherited at least one trait beside her moonstone gaze from those ancient forebears: she had an extreme disinterest in lies or politic speech, which was why she had be¬come Yasammez' favorite of all her eremite order. "The touch of the King's glass has made him restless."
"Is he awakening already?"
"No, Mistress." The face was placid but the words were not. "But he is stirring, and something is different, although I cannot say what. He is like out-fevered-restless, full of unsettling dreams."
Yasammez would have scowled at that, but she had lost the habit of showing emotion in such a naked way. "We know nothing of his dreams.»
"fust so." Aesi'uah bowed her head. "But his sleep seems to be that sort of sleep, and what is just as important, his restlessness makes the other sleepers un-easy, too."
She was just about to ask the chief eremite how much longer before everything ended for good and all when another voice spoke in her head, faint as a dying wind.
Where are you… do you hear me? Do you… know me?
Of course I know you, my heart. A claw of terror gripped Yasammez, but she tried to keep it from her thoughts. How could you doubt it?
Her beloved one was gone for a moment, then returned, sighing, tat¬tered. So… cold. So dark.
Yasammez made the sign for "audience ended." Aesi'uah did not change expression. She spread her hands, then glided out of the chamber like a phantom ship sailing beneath the moon.
Speak to me, my heart, said Yasammez.
I fear… I am going soon into… that greater sleep…
No. Strength is coming to you. I have sent the glass.
Wliere is it? I fear it will never come. The thoughts were timid, simple as a child's. To Yasammez that was the worst torment of all.
Gyir brings it, she promised. He is young and strong and his thoughts are clear. He will find his way to you in time.
But what… what if he does not…?
Do not even think it. Yasammez put every bit of strength she could be¬hind the thought. He will come and you will be strong again. I will bring the scorched stones of the sunlanders' cities to make you a necklace.
But even so… even so…!
Quiet, my heart. Not even the gods themselves can unmake that which is. Rest. I will stay with you until you sleep-not the greater sleep, but only the lesser. Fear not. Gyir will come.
She held on, then, to that faint wisp of thought and gave it comfort, though it fluttered against the darkness like a dying bird, by turns terrified and exhausted. The shadows flickered again in the hall, moving and stretching all through the true night as she took her aspect upon her once more, but this time they were softer-not spikes but tendrils, not the black, reach¬ing claws of death but the fingers of soft, nurturing hands, as Lady Porcu¬pine struggled to soothe the only living being she had ever truly loved.
The day was cold and gray, seasoned with drifts of rain, and although the doors to Effir dan-Mozan's front room were open to the courtyard as usual, a large brazier had been lit to provide warmth. As Briony came in the mer¬chant was bending forward-not an easy task over his rich-man's belly- and warming his small, beringed hands at the coals.
"Ah, Briony-zisaya," he said. "You have not left your meal too soon? I did not want to interrupt you."
"I was finished, Master dan… Effir. Thank you. The servant said you and Shaso wished to speak with me."
"Yes, but Lord dan-Heza is not here yet. Please, make yourself comfort¬able." He gestured to one of the chairs arranged in a semicircle around the brazier. "It is a filthy day but I cannot bear to have the doors closed." He laughed. "I like to see the sky When I look at it, I might be at home." The smile soured a little. "Well, not today. We do not have skies like this in Tuan. When the rains come, we go to our temples and give thanks. Here, I should suspect it is the reverse."
Briony smiled. "I have never seen a house like this one, so low, with the garden in the center. Do people live like this in Tuan?"
"More or less. The nicer houses, yes. Although I wish I could have shown you my family home in Dagardar. Much larger, much more finely furnished- until it was pillaged and then burned by the old autarch's soldiers. Still, I can¬not complain. The March Kingdoms have been good to an exile."
"It is still a very nice house."
"You are kind. What you politely do not ask is why a rich man would dwell in such an unsalubrious part of Landers Port."
She colored a little. She had wondered just that many times. "They do seem to have better… views from higher up on the hill."
"Ah, yes, Princess. And they are jealous of them, too. A man like me can build himself a fine house here among the other dark-skinned folk and no one is too upset. But I promise you that were I to have built it somewhere that a lord like Iomer M'Sivon or the native merchant-folk had to look on
me and my home every day, I would soon find that neighborhood even less pleasant than this one." His smile had a bit of a twist to it. "The important thing in this life is to know not just who you are but where you are."
Shaso came in, dressed as though he had been outside, his face hidden by scarf and drooping hat. He shook the rain off his cloak and draped it across a chair. Effir dan-Mozan did not look pleased to have water sprin kled across his carpeted floors.
Shaso took off his hat and sat down. "A ship came in from Hierosol," he said by way of explanation. "The sailors were drinking. And talking. I was listening."
"And what did you learn, Lord?" asked Effir, who had regained his equa¬nimity.
"Hierosol is preparing. Several dromons-that is what they call their war¬ships, Princess-that were awaiting repairs are being rushed through dry-dock. Drakava has also called back his captains, who were punishing reluctant taxpayers along the Kracian border. He seems to expect a siege."
"And my father?"