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for ten years, is missing. And here you sit, surrounded by fountains and eunuchs. Well, you were warned, my lady; Ysandre de la Courcel herself warned you, ten years gone by. If you did not relinquish him into her custody, into the role to which he is entitled as a Prince of the Blood and a scion of House Courcel, you would make of him a weapon lying free to be taken up by whosoever would use him.” I ran both hands through my hair. “And now it has happened,” I said, my voice running on too fast. “Well and so, it has come to pass. What do you want of me, my lady? What do you want of me?”
    Melisande looked at me without moving. “I want you to find him.”
    It brought me to a halt. “Why?”
    “Because,” Melisande said simply, “you can.”
    I laughed again, out loud, staring at her. “So? Why should I help you?”
    Something unfathomable surfaced in her deep blue eyes. “The boy is innocent.”
    “No.” I shook my head in denial, summoning a will I scarce knew I possessed. “No,” I said more firmly. “My lady, forgive me, but it is not enough.” I felt Joscelin’s presence behind me, solid as an embrace. “As I am human, I grieve for your plight, my lady; but I am not your ally nor your servant to aid you in this matter. My loyalty is sworn to her majesty Ysandre de la Courcel, and there it shall abide.” I steadied myself against the knowledge of Joscelin’s love, my Perfect Companion, and spoke with confidence, sure in her inability to answer. “So I ask again, why should I help you?”
    In the silence that followed, I felt my heart beat three times over, slow and steady.
    And then Melisande shattered my will.
    “You seek the Name of God. I can tell you where to find it.”
    I heard Joscelin’s sharp, indrawn breath; I was aware, distantly, of my knees locking. I stared at Melisande’s beautiful, implacable face. “You don’t know it,” I said, numb and stupid. “You can’t know it.”
    Melisande didn’t blink. “Thirteen years ago, Anafiel Delaunay began his investigation into the matter of the Master of the Straits. Do you suppose I never wondered why?” She smiled wryly. “I was wrong, at first. I thought he courted the aid of Maelcon the Usurper, to secure Ysandre’s throne. It is what I would have done, what Lyonette de Trevalion attempted for her son Baudoin. Nonetheless.” Her expression hardened. “I knew what he sought, and followed his path. When your Tsingano friend paid the riddle’s price, I knew you would continue to seek the key to his freedom.”
    I sat down, feeling the same shock that echoed in my flesh resonating in Joscelin. “And you would have me believe you found it?”
    “No.” Melisande shook her head, almost gently. “Not the key, no. But I know where it might be found. You are too like Anafiel, Phèdre, caught up in academic pursuit. I taught him to use people; I thought I taught him well, when he set you and the boy Alcuin to espionage in the name of Naamah’s Service. But I did not teach him well enough. Although he used you hard, still he disdained to buy the eyes and ears he might have done.” She took another deep breath. “I didn’t. And I’ve had a longer time in which to do it. You seek the Tribe of Dân, yes?”
    “Yes,” I said, sick at heart. Hyacinthe.
    “Well,” Melisande said. “I can tell you where to find them. If you will find my son, Imriel.”
    The blood beat in my ears, with a sound like bronze wings clashing. A red haze veiled my vision. Kushiel’s face swam before my eyes, cruel and compassionate. In one hand, he holds a brazen key, and in the other a diamond, strung on a velvet cord ... I felt, somewhere, Melisande’s gaze upon me, watching and waiting. There was a hard pressure at my wrists, like manacles; Joscelin’s hands, clamped hard around me.
    “No,” he whispered. “Phèdre, don’t do this thing.”
    I blinked, and my vision cleared. Melisande sat watching me unmoving. “Why?” I asked. “Why me? Elua knows, my lady, you’ve spies to your name still. Deny it, and I walk out this door, no matter what bait you dangle before me.”
    “I have spies.” A corner of Melisande’s lips curled. “Do you think I wouldn’t try that route first, Phèdre nó Delaunay? They have found nothing. Whoever took my son plays a clever game.” She looked around at her gracious prison. “And here I sit, surrounded by fountains and eunuchs. If I were free ...” She shook her head. “I cannot enter Terre