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Jebe-Barkal, to the very place where Shalomon’s son founded his dynasty.”
    I rolled the scroll carefully, mindful of crackling the glaze on the painted characters. “What makes you think I cannot find such a guide on my own, my lady?”
    “You might,” Melisande admitted. “Although one such is not so easy to find, for the empire of Shalomon’s son is long fallen and its history forgotten. But you have given your word. And you are Anafiel Delaunay’s pupil. I do not think you will go back on it.”
    “No.” I placed the scroll back in its container. “Did you teach me to use people better than you taught my lord Delaunay, my lady, I would take this and be gone. But when all is said and done, I am not like you.” I placed the lid on the wooden cylinder, sealing it with a twist. “You spoke the truth, when you said your son is innocent. For that, if naught else, I will seek to learn what has become of him.”
    “Thank you.” Melisande said it graciously, standing tall and straight. It gave me a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, hearing those words from her. With nothing to resist, I didn’t know what to do with my emotions. Joscelin swung himself off the couch in one seamless motion, assisting me to my feet.
    “We’ll come back when we’ve something to report,” he said. “My lady.”

Ten
    SINCE WE had no reason to stay, we left La Serenissima in the same day.
    For a long time, neither of us discussed it, speaking only of those pragmatic matters necessary for travel. I daresay I couldn’t have borne anything more. My mind reeled, trying to make sense of what had transpired. I couldn’t do it. It was too much.
    “You did well.” It was Joscelin who broke the silence somewhere outside of Pavento.
    I turned to look at his profile, his gaze fixed on the road before him, hands competent on the reins. “Joscelin. I agreed to help her.”
    “I know.” He glanced sideways at me. “And Elua help me, I don’t know what else you could have done. You think she’s telling the truth about this Jebean legend?”
    “I don’t know.” I touched the scroll-case, lashed securely across my pommel. “She might be. It would be like her to have had this coin and withheld it for years.”
    “For what?” Joscelin’s voice was curious. “I understand she was shadowing Delaunay, in the beginning, but what interest could the Master of the Straits hold for Melisande now?”
    “What do you think Drustan mab Necthana would do if Melisande tried to put her son on Ysandre’s throne?” I asked.
    “Bring an army across the Straits and stop her.”
    “Yes.” I stroked the oiled wood. “Unless the Master of the Straits barred the crossing. And for the price of freedom, he might consider it.”
    “Hyacinthe?” It was odd to hear him spoken of thusly. “Never.”
    “Never.” I tasted the word. “Ten days ago, I would have said I would never have given my aid to Melisande Shahrizai of my own will. And my never is a good deal shorter than Hyacinthe’s, Joscelin.” I remembered the despairing eyes of the Tsingano boy I’d loved looking out from the face of the Master of the Straits, immortal power trapped in a mortal body. In the back of my mind, a grasshopper chirruped a dry warning. “Now, no. In ten years ... mayhap.”
    Our horses’ hooves beat a rhythmic tattoo on the road while Joscelin considered my words. Travelling has its own pace, its own meter. “You’re probably right,” he said at length, and glanced at me again. “Still. It matters not, not any more. And I think you handled her well.”
    “I tried.”
    It was true, I think; I had done well. Once, only once, in my career as an anguissette in Naamah’s Service have I given my signale , that password commanding a patron to cease, overriding all false protests and demurrals. It was to Melisande Shahrizai. I have had patrons more brutal, gleeful in their abuse, who left marks on my body that took many weeks to heal. I have never had any patron who played me with such consummate skill. But I had conducted myself well in her presence, yes. Apart from my initial shock at her request-and who would not react thusly?-I had remained in control, showing no sign of the weakness inflicted upon me by fate.
    And now I ached with desire in every part.
    Kushiel’s Dart was pricking hard.
    Joscelin realized it, in time. We had been together too long for it to be otherwise. Once, long before we were lovers, he had despised it in me. It was