Kushiel's Chosen

companion has a need that compels, and you ..." The Hierophant smiled. "I shall speak to the Kore of you, and we shall see."
    With that, I had to be content for the moment; and in truth, I was sufficiently weary that I made no further protest. The maiden Euralyke, grave and smiling, showed me to a pleasant chamber, with frescoes of birds adorning the walls. There was a bathing room adjacent, with a tub of painted earthenware, and servants brought hot water in jugs to fill it. While I bathed, they laid out fresh clothing for me, a dress of white linen and a blue mantle, plain but fine. I sat afterward and combed out my hair, enjoying the feel of clean fabric against my skin. Food came as promised, fresh bread and sharp goat's cheese, and a lamb dish that tasted faintly of cinnamon. I ate everything, feeling the world grow more solid around me, and washed it down with cool water and a good red wine.
    It was my intention to pursue the matter of an audience immediately after eating, but when I had done, a great wave of tiredness overcame me. However long it had been that we had fled the storm, we had none of us slept much for days on end, save for brief naps snatched here and there, between buffets. I will close my eyes only for a moment, I told myself, stretching out on the bed; only for a moment, and then I will seek out this Kore, whomever she may be.
    I was still thinking it as I fell down the deep, dark well of sleep.
    Lengthening shadows woke me, creeping across the frescoed walls; I awoke disheveled and confused, uncertain where I was. I had slept the better part of the day. Remembering, I rose and stretched my sleep-stiffened limbs, smoothing out my wrinkled garments. Scarce had I done when the door to my chamber opened to admit the Hierophant, accompanied by two initiates.
    "The Kore will see you."
    Trying not to yawn, I went with him down another set of corridors, bright colors mellowed by the slanting light that came in at the windows. The Hierophant's expression was unchanging, but the initiates stole glances at me out of the corners of their eyes; I do not think they had ever seen a D'Angeline before.
    We entered a large chamber, painted all around with a processional of youths and maidens alike bearing libational vessels-and at the far end stood a throne, in which a woman sat awaiting us. With a small shock, I came to full alertness.
    It is no easy thing, to describe the Kore of the Temenos, nor my reaction to her. A woman, yes, with fair skin and hair the hue of bronze, though her eyes were as dark as the Hierophant's, heavy-lidded and lustrous. She wore a blue gown wrought with gold stars, and a great collar of ivory plaques set in gold, and over it all, a saffron mantle. Although her skin was smooth and her breasts firm, I guessed her age at some forty years. A woman, and yet-a shudder ran through me as I gazed upon her, and I felt such a jumble of thoughts and emotions I could scarce name them all. Awe and fear-and desire, sudden and unbidden. I thought of the great statue of Asherat in her temple of La Serenissima, and the blind priestess Bianca, reaching her crabbed hand to touch me. I thought of the Great Temple of Naamah and saw her face before me, transcendent and generous.
    I thought of Melisande, too.
    And I thought of something I had not remembered in years; my mother's face the last time I saw her, in the courtyard of Cereus House, the day she sold me into servitude.
    All of these and more flickered through my mind too swiftly to number before the Kore spoke, her clear voice stilling the whirlwind inside me. "Phèdre nó Delaunay," she said, giving my name the proper D'Angeline inflection. "Be welcome."
    I sank down to kneel abeyante, the marble floor cool beneath my knees. "My lady."
    "Come, that will never do. Let me see you, Elua's child." Leaning forward, she lifted my chin with two fingers and gazed at my face. I saw her take in my scarlet-moted eye, and mayhap somewhat more, for her brows raised. "Oh, Oeneus! This one, you should have brought sooner. There is a bright shadow about you, child. Know you that a god has set his hand upon you?"
    "Yes, my lady." I was content to look at her. "It is Kushiel's Dart that marks me; Kushiel, who was once the Punisher of the One God, the Yeshuite's Adonai. But I am dedicated also to the Service of Naamah, who is the Mistress of Pleasures. And as I am D'Angeline, I owe homage to Blessed Elua, who is the Protector of us all."
    "Thrice-marked, and