"Thank you." John bowed slightly to Giryyn. There was something in the priest’s demeanor and accent that reminded John strongly of Hann’yu.
When John lifted the lid off his cup, a sweet smelling steam rose up from the golden liquid inside. Saimura leaned closer to John and studied the drink curiously.
"That is for our guest, Saimura. Not you," Giryyn said firmly. "You have your own tea."
"I wasn’t going to take John’s drink." Saimura frowned at Giryyn. "I was just wondering what it is."
"It’s a medicine that will warm him," Giryyn said. He turned to John. "You should drink it while it’s still hot."
"I will. Thank you." John lifted the drink and swallowed some of the thick fluid. A bland sweetness filled his mouth. John recognized the taste at once. It was fathi. Instantly he remembered the last time he had been given fathi. He had incriminated himself and Lady Bousim as well. He had answered every question that he’d been asked with mindless honesty.
The Fai’daum were going to use fathi to question him. There was no other reason to serve the drink to him.
"Is it good?" Giryyn asked as John lowered the cup. He peered intently at John.
"Very. It’s like honey." Already John could feel the soothing effect of the fathi creeping through his muscles.
"You should finish the rest," Giryyn said.
John turned the small cup in his hand, allowing as much of the viscous fluid to cling to the sides of the cup as possible.
He wondered what would happen if he refused to drink any more. The only reason a man would refuse it would be if he recognized the fathi and he feared what he would reveal under its influence.
Which was exactly the case.
John strongly suspected that his refusal would cause Giryyn to conclude that he was a spy. And if that happened, John doubted that he would be allowed to just get up and leave.
John took another sip of the fathi. Watching him, Giryyn seemed to relax slightly.
The old familiar languor began to seep through John. If he hadn’t experienced fathi before, John would have thought that he was just feeling safe and sleepy. He would have felt relief as the sense of absolute trust spread through him.
From behind Giryyn, John saw a flicker of motion. A large yellow dog padded silently between the flickering shadows of the fire. That would be Ji, John thought. She and Giryyn would have questions for him. The fathi would ensure that he would have answers.
Chapter Eighty
The warm firelight flickered over Ji’s yellow fur, lending it a golden luster. Her big dark eyes settled briefly on Saimura and then shifted to John. She seemed gentle and friendly. She gazed at him with such soft warmth. John wanted to reach out and pet her.
He restrained his urge. He had seen Ji kill more than one man. He had seen her tear out a tahldi’s throat with her teeth. If it had not been for the fathi coursing through his blood, he would have been terrified to be anywhere near her.
Once again he told himself that this sense of comfort was only an effect of the fathi. It was such a pleasant poison, and after days of anxiety, John deeply desired this feeling of ease. But if he gave into it he knew he would betray himself and Ravishan as well.
He had to resist the sweet, melting sense of safety that poured over him. He needed to be wary. But he didn’t know how. To his alarm, he found that he had lifted his hand and reached out to stroke Ji’s head.
"So, tell me, Jahn," Ji’s voice was low and smooth, "why have you come here?"
"Saimura said that you could teach me. You could help me stop this storm."
"And is that the only reason?" Ji cocked her head slightly. John grinned at how human the movement seemed.
"No," John admitted.
"What other reasons did you have?" Ji asked.
"I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I’m a wanted man and I need sanctuary." John ran his hand over Ji’s back. Her fur was soft and giving, but the body beneath it didn’t feel quite right. A cold sensation radiated up from deep within her.
"What are you wanted for?"
"For killing Ushman Dayyid." John glanced briefly to Saimura. He looked surprised at John’s candor. John supposed he really hadn’t known that it was fathi in John’s cup after all.
Ji asked, "And did you kill him?"
"Yes." John turned his attention back to Ji.
"I see." Ji studied John for a moment. Her dark eyes seemed oddly luminous. "Why did you kill the ushman?"
"Why?" John shrugged. There were so many reasons. "He beat me for weeks when I first came to Rathal’pesha."
Now that he was talking John wasn’t sure why he had been so worried. The Fai’daum weren’t like the Payshmura priests. Ji seemed so accepting of everything he said.
"Ushman Dayyid thought he knew Parfir." John scowled at the idea. "He thought he’d been chosen and had some divine right to use people ruthlessly. He was arrogant and suspicious and cruel. He hurt the man I love. That’s really why I killed Dayyid. I thought he was going to kill my lover."
Saimura almost dropped his cup of tea. Giryyn looked shocked.
"I was horrified as well," John agreed with Giryyn’s appalled expression. "He just grabbed Ravishan and went at him with a knife. What was I supposed to do?"
"Did you say ‘Ravishan’?" Ji asked.
"I – " John tried not to answer, but the words came out before he could think of any other response. "Yes, Ushiri Ravishan."
"You and he are lovers?"
John clenched his mouth shut only to belatedly realize that he was nodding.
"Stop this," Saimura suddenly blurted out. "What did you put in Jahn’s drink?"
"Fathi," Giryyn replied.
"Saimura, sit down," Ji commanded.
"How could you give him fathi? He saved my life twice."
"That doesn’t mean he couldn’t still be a spy," Ji said softly.
"But I’m not," John stated firmly. He smiled to himself. At least he’d gotten that out of the way.
"Apparently not," Giryyn replied. He didn’t seem able to meet John’s gaze.
"How could you even think that he was? If you had seen what he did at the blood market – he stood against the God’s Razor!" Saimura said.
"I was there, Saimura," Ji replied. "I saw what happened. But we do not know if Jahn did break the God’s Razor or if the Payshmura made him appear to have broken it."
"I broke it," John said.
"You don’t have to tell them anything, Jahn." Saimura glowered at both Ji and Giryyn like an incensed defense lawyer.
"But I should. I’m not a spy. I don’t want Ji to think I am."
"Not even Ji has the right to force you to answer questions about – about your private life," Saimura snapped. Ji sighed but said nothing.
"Saimura, please calm down," Giryyn said. "We didn’t intend to expose Jahn’s unseemly secrets."
"No," Ji agreed. "But it seems Jahn may be able to help us with a mystery."
"I can try," John replied. He offered Saimura what he thought was a reassuring smile. It was kind of Saimura to defend him so earnestly. Saimura flushed slightly and looked down at his own teacup.
"Where is Ravishan now?" Ji asked.
John studied the room but still saw no sign of Ravishan.
"I don’t know," John said.
"He went to Nurjima to become Kahlil, didn’t he?" Ji asked.
"Yes, but I was sent away before he received his Prayerscars." John pushed his thoughts from Ravishan, focusing intently on his own history. "I was sent back to Rathal’pesha to burn on the Holy Road. And then I caused this storm and now I can’t stop it. That’s why I’m here. I need you to teach me to control my power."
One of Ji’s ears pricked up, but then she flicked it with her front paw, scratching it as if she were a common dog.
John’s thoughts wandered. He studied the glow of the firelight as it flickered over the huge statue of Parfir. He gazed up into the deep shadows of the ceiling and studied Parfir’s gentle smile.
Ji whispered, "I heard the issusha’im screaming six days ago. Was that when you were sent to burn on the Holy Road?"
John nodded. He had heard the issusha’im when he had been in the Gray Space between the Black Tower and Rathal’pesha. Their hissing, moaning voices had risen over him in a desperate cacophony.