Be silent!
but it isnt necessary. Dont you see? He has never stopped loving you. He never will. You and Itempas will always hold his heart in your hands.
Yes. That is true. But I am dead, and Itempas is mad.
And I am dying. Poor Nahadoth.
Poor Nahadoth, and poor us.
* * *
I woke slowly, aware first of warmth and comfort. Sunlight shone against the side of my face, red through one of my eyelids. A hand rubbed my back in little arcs.
I opened my eyes and did not understand what I saw at first. A white, rolling surface. I had fleeting memories of something else like itfrozen explosionsand then the memories swam away, deeper into my consciousness and out of reach. For a moment understanding lingered: I was mortal, not ready for some knowledge. Then even that vanished, and I was myself again. I was wearing a plush robe. I was sitting in someones lap. Frowning, I lifted my head.
Nahadoths daytime form gazed back at me with frank, too-human eyes.
I did not think, half-falling and half-leaping off his lap and rolling to my feet. He rose with me and a taut moment passed, me staring, him just standing there.
The moment broke when he turned to the small nightstand, on which sat a gleaming silver tea service. He poured, the small liquid sound making me flinch for reasons I did not understand, and then held the cup forward, offering it to me.
I stood naked before him, an offering
Gone, like fish in a pond.
How do you feel? he asked. I flinched again, not sure I understood the words. How did I feel? Warm. Safe. Clean. I lifted a hand, sniffed my wrist; I smelled of soap.
I bathed you. I hope youll forgive the liberty. Low, soft, his voice, as if he spoke to a skittish mare. He looked different from the day beforehealthier for one, but also browner, like a Darre man. You were so deeply asleep that you didnt wake. I found the robe in the closet.
I hadnt known I had a robe. Belatedly it came to me that he was still holding out the cup of tea. I took it, more out of politeness than any real interest. When I sipped, I was surprised to find it lukewarm and rich with cooling mint and calmative herbs. It made me realize I was thirsty; I drank it down greedily. Naha held out the pot, silently offering more, and I let him pour.
What a wonder you are, he murmured, as I drank. Noise. He was staring and it bothered me. I looked away to shut him out and savored the tea.
You were ice cold when I woke up, and filthy. There was somethingsoot, I thinkall over you. The bath seemed to warm you up, and that helped, too. He jerked his head toward the chair where wed been sitting. There wasnt anywhere else, so
The bed, I said, and flinched again. My voice was hoarse, my throat raw and sore. The mint helped.
For an instant Naha paused, his lips quirking with a hint of his usual cruelty. The bed wouldnt have worked.
Puzzled, I looked past him, and caught my breath. The bed was a wreck, sagging on a split frame and broken legs. The mattress looked as though it had been hacked by a sword and then set afire. Loose goosedown and charred fabric scraps littered the room.
It was more than the bed. One of the rooms huge glass windows had spiderwebbed; only luck that it hadnt shattered. The vanity mirror had. One of my bookcases lay on the floor, its contents scattered but intact. (I saw my fathers book there, with great relief.) The other bookcase had been shattered into kindling, along with most of the books on it.
Naha took the empty teacup from my hand before I could drop it. Youll need to get one of your Enefadeh friends to fix this. I kept the servants out this morning, but that wont work for long.
I I dont I shook my head. So much of what had happened was dreamlike in my memory, more metaphysical than actual. I remembered falling. There was no hole in the ceiling. Yet, the bed.
Naha said nothing as I moved about the room, my slippered feet crunching on glass and splinters. When I picked up a shard of the mirror, staring at my own face, he said, You dont look as much like the library mural as Id first thought.
That turned me around to face him. He smiled at me. I had thought him human, but no. He had lived too long and too strangely, knew too much. Perhaps he was more like the demons of old, half mortal and half something else.
How long have you known? I asked.
Since we met. His lips quirked. Though that cant properly be called a meeting, granted.
He had stopped and stared at me, that first evening in Sky. Id forgotten in the rush of terror afterward. Then later in Sciminas quartersYoure a good actor.
I have to be. His smile was gone now. Even then, I wasnt sure. Not until I woke up and saw this. He gestured around the devastated room. And you there beside me, alive.
I didnt expect to be. But I was, and now I would have to deal with the consequences.