Kushiel's Chosen

Joscelin. If we're there, we stand a chance of preventing it. If we're not, she will die."
    "It is a good plan, D'Angeline," Kazan remarked. "Better than storming the door, eh? If we die ..." he grinned, "... many Serenissimans will die with us, yes."
    "He likes that idea, doesn't he?" Joscelin asked me, then turned resolutely to Sarae. "All right, then. Do you know where to find this warehouse?"
    "Yes." Her voice was strained, her face pale and stubborn. "I will show you ... if you take us with you to fight at your side."
    Joscelin swore and clutched at his tangled hair. "I said no!"
    "It is not your choice, apostate," Micah said calmly. "It is ours."
    Joscelin opened his mouth to protest again when Ti-Philippe interrupted him. "Joscelin, he's right; it's not our choice. Let them come if they will, and obey orders. They can ward the tunnel and safeguard our retreat. It's no more risk than La Dolorosa, and," he added, eyeing Micah, "I suspect you'd find them in the Square if you don't let them come. At least this way they'll be out of sight, and less likely to be arrested for bearing arms unlawfully."
    In the end, there was nothing else for it. Once it was agreed, Sarae went willingly enough with Ti-Philippe to examine the warehouse's security. I misliked the risk, for 'twas near enough to the Great Canal that there would be guards about, but I had to admit, with his gaunt features, rough-spun garb and a farmer's wide-brimmed hat atop his dyed, cropped hair, Ti-Philippe looked nothing like himself. As for Sarae, no one was looking for Yeshuites.
    Like as not, I thought, if aught happens, it will be that they are turned away and forced to make a detour; and even at that, Ysandre should have arrived by now, and the net of security will have drawn tight around the Little Court. Still, I would not rest easy until their return.
    Kazan and his men set to making windbreaks for the night's shelter, since it seemed we had little choice but to remain on this nameless isle, at least until the small hours of the night. The Yeshuites aided them warily, and Joscelin and I sat together with too much to say and not enough time to say it.
    "I'm so sorry," he said at length. "For everything."
    "No." I took his hand. "I am. I hurt you in my actions, and wronged you in my thoughts. I drove you to cruelty, I pushed you to breaking, and I took pleasure in it when you did. Joscelin, the fault was mine."
    "I gave you reason," he said dryly. "Phèdre, I fell in love with you with both eyes wide open, and fighting against it every step of the way. When you told me you were returning to Naamah's Service, I thought I had bent as far as I could without breaking. When you began spending so much time with Severio, I was sure of it. And when you disappeared, I realized that I hadn't even begun to fathom what I could endure." Glancing down at the silver khai pendant that rested still on his chest, he took it in his free hand and gave a short, sharp jerk, snapping the thin chain. "The Yeshuites will have to wait a while longer for Cassiel the Apostate to bow his head before the Mashiach's throne," he said, holding the bright object in his palm. "Elua's priest spoke truly; I choose the path of the Companion."
    I folded his fingers over the pendant and leaned over to kiss his hand. "Keep it. You've done what you could for them. You've given them the means to survive."
    "If I can keep them alive long enough." He brushed my hair with his fingertips, saying my name with wonder. "I thought I had lost you, truly."
    "And I thought I was truly lost," I said. "More than once. But here we are."
    "Until tomorrow, at least." Joscelin gave his faint smile. "Is there any chance I can convince you not to go?"
    I shook my head. "No. I began this, after all, and I've faced too many kinds of death and madness not to see it through."
    "I thought as much." He pondered our joined hands. "Is there any chance we'll live to see the end, do you think?"
    "There's a chance," I said. "If we can turn the tide against Prince Benedicte, even for a little bit, Marco Stregazza may turn with it rather than fall with his ally. If he sees danger and a chance to save himself, he'll take it." I stirred, thinking. "Joscelin, do you think one of your Yeshuites could get word to Ricciardo Stregazza? He's confined to house arrest, but if the Scholae still answer to him, those who aren't in Marco's pocket, they might serve to counter the rioters."
    "It might arouse suspicion, if he's guarded,"