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describe the pain of it. How eager is he to plant his iron rod inside you ? More fool I, I had thought it a figure of speech. It wasn’t. At the first thrust, I thought I would die, split asunder. My breath caught in my throat; I heard a mewling sound, unaware it was me. It was the sound of a dumb animal in pain. Surely now, here, there could be only agony ...
    Would that it were so.
    Even this ... even this. My body betrayed me, accommodating the agony, inner flesh torn, slick with desire and blood, accommodating... him, the dreadful iron reaving me in twain, all of it. I laid my cheek on the bedclothes, scratching roughly with the rhythm of his thrusting, staring onto darkness. Let him kill me with it, I thought. Let him. Pleasure mounted, inexorable, unspeakable. My fingers clenched on the bedclothes, clenched and released. A crimson veil fell over my vision. I could hear his breath, coming harshly now; he had released my nape, both hands clutching my hips, loins thrusting. The iron nubs ... Elua! What damage was it doing? I hoped he would never stop. I hoped I would die.
    In the scarlet haze, Kushiel’s face swam before me, loving and remorseless, bronze eyes heavy-lidded and downcast. In one hand ... in one hand he held forth a diamond, hanging from a velvet cord. I stared at it, blinking, while the Mahrkagir labored behind me. Darkness surged in waves as Kushiel bent low over me, murmuring a tender benediction over my averted face, offering. The diamond dangled from his hand, refracting light from myriad facets, filling my gaze as the awful pleasure rose and rose... .
    ... until I breathed in, sharply, uttering a broken cry, and the diamond fractured; light, Blessed Elua, the light , dazzling, a thousand stars, drawn in through my gasping mouth, spangling the very blood in my veins, bursting inside of me, opening a window onto a universe more vast, more unfathomable ...
    The Mahrkagir groaned and stiffened, his entire body going rigid with the force of his climax. When it was done, he slumped over me a moment, laying his face against my back, my fair skin adorned with the work of a master marquist, striped by the weals of a crop.
    “Phèdre,” he murmured, withdrawing from me. “Ah, Phèdre!”
    Empty of him, Kushiel’s presence deserted me. I curled on my side, willing the last agonizing throbs of desire to fade. With all pleasure gone, the pain came in its wake, and it was formidable. The Mahrkagir sat beside me and stroked my face, delighted with himself, with me. “You love me,” he said. “At least a little bit. Is it not so?”
    “It is,” I said wearily, unable to lift my head. “At least a little bit. It is so, my lord.”
    “I knew it!” He rose from the sleeping pallet, heedless of the iron phallus still jouncing at his loins, unbuckling its straps. “This,” he said, raising it reverently, tasting the mingled fluids that darkened it with the tip of his tongue. “This will be for you and no other.”
    “As my lord wishes.” I looked away, unable to watch.
    Ignoring me, he went to rummage in a chest, throwing aside sundry gifts of tribute; pelts, gold chains, a box of Bhodistani spices. “Ah!” Pleased at having found what he desired, the Mahrkagir returned to the bed-pallet, clutching in one hand a carved jade effigy of a dog. “Here,” he said, presenting it to me. “It is a gift, for you. From Ch’in, I think. Because you are my favorite, now.”
    I made myself kneel, dragging my aching limbs into position, huddling against the cold shivers that had begun to overtake me. “My lord is too kind.”
    “Yes.” He smiled at the scowling jade face of the dog, its fierce features. “There was a dog tonight, do you remember it burning?” I nodded, unable to speak for the lump of horror in my throat. “This is so you will not forget.”
    “I do not think, my lord,” I forced the words out, “that I will ever forget tonight.”
    “I forget things.” The Mahrkagir’s unfocused gaze wandered about the room. “Tahmuras said I had a dog, once. It was in the zenana , where he found me. Someone had flung it against a wall. It had blood on its jaws, though.” He laughed. “I think it bit an Akkadian.”
    “You remember nothing from before?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “Only the weight of bodies piled atop me. There was a woman’s face, so close.” He put one hand against his nose. “She had been strangled, and her eyes bulged in their sockets. I could feel one