'Frightened? You should be! I'm a woman! A witch! So why don't you just drag that scrawny behind of yours into that tent and cower, dear husband. This is real power, here, real magic!'
'No it isn't! I mean, it's not witch magic, not Dal Honese – I don't know what this is-'
'You're right, you don't. Now be a good little boy and go to sleep, Iskaral Pust, while I set about saving this Trell's miserable life.'
Iskaral thought to argue, then decided against it. He crawled into the tent.
From outside, 'Is that you gibbering, Iskaral?'
Oh be quiet.
Lostara Yil opened her eyes, then slowly sat up.
A grey-cloaked figure was standing near a stone-arched portal, his back to her. Rough-hewn walls to either side, forming a circular chamber with Lostara – who had been lying on an altar – in the centre.
Moonlight was flooding in from in front of the figure, yet it seemed to be sliding in visible motion. As if the moon beyond was plunging from the sky.
'What-?' she asked, then began to cough uncontrollably, sharp pain biting in her lungs. Finally recovering, she blinked tears from her eyes, looked up once again.
He was facing her now.
The Shadow Dancer. The god. Cotillion. Seemingly in answer to her initial question, he said, 'I am not sure. Some untoward sorcery is at work, somewhere in the desert. The moon's light has been… stolen. I admit I have never seen anything like it before.'
Even as he was speaking, Lostara's memories returned in a rush. Y'
Ghatan. Flames, everywhere. Blistering heat. Savage burns – oh how her flesh screamed its pain – 'What – what happened to me?'
'Oh, that was what you meant. My apologies, Lostara Yil. Well, in short, I pulled you out of the fire. Granted, it's very rare for a god to intervene, but T'riss kicked open the door-'
'T'riss?'
'The Queen of Dreams. Set the precedent, as it were. Most of your clothes had burned – I apologize if you find the new ones not to your liking.'
She glanced down at the rough-woven shift covering her.
'A neophyte's tunic,' Cotillion said. 'You are in a Temple of Rashan, a secret one. Abandoned with the rebellion, I believe. We are a league and a half from what used to be Y'Ghatan, forty or so paces north of the Sotka Road. The temple is well concealed.' He gestured with one gloved hand at the archway. 'This is the only means of ingress and egress.'
'Why – why did you save me?'
He hesitated. 'There will come a time, Lostara Yil, when you will be faced with a choice. A dire one.'
'What kind of choice?'
He studied her for a moment, then asked, 'How deep are your feelings for Pearl?'
She started, then shrugged. 'A momentary infatuation. Thankfully passed. Besides, he's unpleasant company these days.'
'I can understand that,' Cotillion said, somewhat enigmatically. 'You will have to choose, Lostara Yil, between your loyalty to the Adjunct… and all that Pearl represents.'
'Between the Adjunct and the Empress? That makes no sense-'
He stayed her with a raised hand. 'You need not decide immediately, Lostara. In fact, I would counsel against it. All I ask is that you consider the question, for now.'
'What is going on? What do you know, Cotillion? Are you planning vengeance against Laseen?'
His brows lifted. 'No, nothing like that. In fact, I am not directly involved in this… uh, matter. At the moment, anyway. Indeed, the truth is, I am but anticipating certain things, some of which may come to pass, some of which may not.' He faced the portalway again. 'There is food near the altar. Wait until dawn, then leave here. Down to the road. Where you will find… welcome company. Your story is this: you found a way out of the city, then, blinded by smoke, you stumbled, struck your head and lost consciousness. When you awoke, the Fourteenth was gone. Your memory is patchy, of course.'
'Yes, it is, Cotillion.'
He turned at her tone, half-smiled. 'You fear that you are now in my debt, Lostara Yil. And that I will one day return to you, demanding payment.'
'It's how gods work, isn't it?'
'Some of them, yes. But you see, Lostara Yil, what I did for you in Y'
Ghatan four days ago was my repayment, of a debt that I owed you.'
'What debt?'
Shadows were gathering about Cotillion now, and she barely heard his reply, 'You forget, I once watched you dance…' And then he was gone.
Moonlight streamed into his wake like quicksilver. And she sat for a time, bathed in its light, considering his words.