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because of her ,” he muttered bitterly. “Can you deny it is so?”
    “In Siovale, I believed it to be,” I admitted. “And I cursed Kushiel’s name for it, believing it unjust, that you should suffer for your mother’s punishment. In Aragonia, in Amílcar, I did the same. In Daršanga ... Imri, your mother’s bargain and my promise carried me as far as Nineveh. It was the will of Blessed Elua sent me into Drujan to find you, and I swear to you, I’d not have done it for anything less. Imriel ... I’m no priestess, to reckon the will of the gods. But what do you think the Mahrkagir would have done, if we had not stopped him?”
    “Killed a lot of people,” he murmured, scraping at the rocky escarpment with a jagged piece of stone. “Conquered the world.”
    “And laughed.” I propped my chin on my hands. “He’d have thought it great sport.”
    Imriel nodded. “He would have laughed.”
    “Well.” I took a breath. “He’s not laughing now. And it’s because of you, Imri. Had it not been for you-for who you are, for the terrible thing that befell you-the Mahrkagir would be alive, and laughing. So. I am not so quick to curse the gods, least of all Blessed Elua.”
    He gazed stubbornly into the chasm beneath his feet. “But it’s not fair .”
    “No.” My heart ached for him; for me, for Joscelin, for all of us. “It’s not. Ah, Imri! Even gods may falter, and I am only mortal. I would have spared you any harm, but I failed to protect you in Darsanga, and I failed here, too. I am sorry. I did my best.”
    His shoulders twitched. “You were hurt worse. In Daršanga.”
    “Mayhap.” I flinched at the memory, knowing he couldn’t see, and made sure my voice was steady. “But it was of my choosing, Imri, and it was worth it in the end. The Mahrkagir is no more. And you ... you are safe, and will soon be with the Queen, who has yearned these many years to welcome you into her household as kindred. I can ask no more.”
    “It’s still not fair,” he muttered.
    “I know.” Reaching out with one hand, I stroked his hair. “Ah, love! I know.”
    “I want to stay with you.” Abruptly, Imriel lifted his head, his expression at once belligerent and vulnerable. “With you and Joscelin. I don’t want to go back with Lord Amaury, to be her son and his , where all the world will hate me! I don’t care about thrones and all that! I don’t care about the Queen! I want to stay with you.”
    “You can’t,” I said gently. “Like it or not, it is true. You are Imriel de la Courcel, a Prince of the Blood, and you have a future awaiting you. Right now, there is a caravan awaiting your pleasure, and a pony picked out just for you. Uru-Azag saw to the trappings himself. And there are injured women awaiting, who would be better served by the chirurgeons of Nineveh than my poor endeavors. Will you keep them waiting all day?”
    “No.” Sober at the reminder, Imriel got to his feet at the verge of the yawning gorge. I swallowed my fear and rose, holding out my hand.
    He took it gravely, crossing the gap between us. “I’m sorry, Phèdre,” he said, looking at me with guilt-stricken eyes. “Will they hate me for it, do you think? Because I am my mother’s son?”
    “No.” I held his hand hard, my heart aching. “I won’t let them.”

Sixty
    SINADDAN-SHAMABARSIN DID not wish us to enter Nineveh with fanfare, and therefore we passed through the gates in the small hours of the night, when the horned moon hung white and distant overhead, diffusing a silver light over the clay buildings, casting odd shadows on the empty streets.
    It was the only way. A company of our size, mainly comprised of unveiled women from a dozen nations, would have drawn attention. I was glad of it, for it meant the Lugal had taken the warning I’d sent ahead by courier to heart. He would not act until he had heard me out.
    Still, it was strange, everything muffled by night, the faces I’d come to know so well rendered indistinct. And stranger still when we parted ways at the Palace of Nineveh. Valère L’Envers, the Lugalin, had ordered an unused wing of the women’s quarters thrown open and made ready for their arrival, and there they would be housed, while their fates were decided.
    A different welcome awaited the D’Angelines. The rest of us-Amaury, Joscelin, Imriel and I-would be treated as royal guests, and Amaury’s three comrades quartered within the Palace. And despite the lateness of the hour, we were