Kushiel's Chosen

Lady. Choose, and I will tell Her answer.”
    I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Severio was frowning, half in awe; he hadn't planned for this. I daresay it unnerved him somewhat. I hoped so, because it surely unnerved me.
    "You do have a question?" the old woman asked impatiently.
    "Yes, my lady," I murmured. "I wish to know-"
    "Asherat! Don't tell me, child. It taints the answer." Old Bianca gestured at the basket of pomegranates, the sleeves of her blue silk robe hanging loose and voluminous on her bony arm. It was nearly a mockery, such gorgeous fabrics adorning so wizened a form. "Choose, and I will tell."
    With no better guidance, I gazed at the heaped basket and selected a large, ripe fruit, its outer rind a rich maroon hue. I placed it on the table before the ancient priestess. Groping for the stool with one hand, she took up the cleaver in the other, then grasped the fruit firmly.
    I am not ashamed to say that I gasped when Bianca brought down the cleaver with unexpected swiftness, the deadly blade splitting the pomegranate a mere hairsbreadth from her fingertips. And I was not alone, for I heard Severio wince involuntarily.
    The old woman merely grunted again, dividing the halves and setting them upright. The deep red seeds shone in a radiating pattern against the rigid white inner pulp, as vivid as the mote of Kushiel's Dart within my left eye. Scarlet juice oozed onto the table and stained her skin anew as she read the pattern of the seeds with her questing fingertips.
    "What you seek you will find," she said matter-of-factly, "in the last place you look."
    I waited for more. Bianca levered the cleaver cautiously this time, divided one of the pomegranate halves into quarters. Bending it to expose the glistening ruby seeds, she lifted the quarter to her mouth beneath her veil and deftly gnawed at the tart fruit.
    "That's all there is to tell," she said, chewing and turning her head to spit out the pips. "You can make an offering to the treasury before you leave, if you like. Silver's customary.”
    Outside, with the bright Serenissiman sun reflecting on the rain-washed Square, it seemed almost a dream. Severio related the tale to the Immortali, who took it in stride.
    "That's an oracle for you," Benito Dandi said, shrugging. "Common sense, tricked out in smoke and mirrors. I mean, of course you're going to find what you're seeking in the last place you look, aren't you? Because after that, you stop looking. Heya," he said, distracted by the sight of a Serenissiman approaching the temple. Clad in a noblewoman's attire and swaying on tall wooden pattens, she nonetheless wore the Veil of Asherat, silvery mesh and gleaming beads obscuring her features. "Bet I know what she's looking for!" he exclaimed, and let out a whistle. "My lady, if it's male heirs you're seeking, no need to become a supplicant. If the field doesn't bear, change plowmen, I say!"
    I smiled faintly at his ribaldry, pitying the poor woman. After what I had seen today, I was of no mind to mock Asherat's powers.
    Common sense, indeed; but I had not told the priestess my question.

THIRTY-FIVE
    To my surprise, all my chevaliers and Joscelin as well had returned by the dinner hour-and with the exception of the latter, who was quiet and indrawn, all gave a good accounting of their day. Unfortunately, there was little to be gained from it. Remy had been turned away at the entrance of the Little Court; the guards had accepted my letter and sent him on his way, warning him pessimistically that the D'Angeline Prince held few audiences these days, and there was a long list of requests. He had haunted the perimeter for the better part of the day to no avail. Prince Benedicte's guards were strict on duty, and housed within the Court itself, so he had no access within.
    Fortun had spent a fruitless day trailing couriers in Stregazzan livery, although he described to me with great relish the inner workings of the Arsenal, the great shipyard. There was an ongoing negotiation, it seemed, between Sestieri Dogal and Sestieri Navis. Well and fine, it might influence the election, but it meant little to me.
    For his part, TiPhilippe had been carousing with those of the Immortali who had not accompanied Severio and me. He had lost nearly a purseful of silver denari, but he had to show for it somewhat more valuable; to me, at any rate. The mother of one of the Immortali attended the Doge's wife-I'd not even known she yet lived, such was the role of women in La