Kushiel's Chosen

not undertaken lightly, without surety of gain. Face-to-face, I might have gauged it; hidden above, I could discern little.
    There were two sets of stairs curving down from balcony, leading to the floor below. Slithering like an eel, I checked both and found them empty; only pink-veined marble steps disappearing from my sight where they curved, framed by gilded railings. Well and good; thus far, at least, Cervianus had not lied. I backed my way carefully to gaze inside the hidden flanking rooms.
    Echo chambers, both of them; Sarae's great-great-aunt Onit had spoken true, too. I had some little knowledge of such things, by virtue of my friendship with Thelesis de Mornay. Each had sounding boards, cunningly set, to conduct the Oracle's voice into the chamber, and thence into the vaulted ceiling of the central dome, magnifying it vastly. A trick, I thought, to pitch one's voice just so; but it could be done in either direction, to the right or left. One held a flexible sheet of bronze, rigged to a mechanism with lever and cogs. This I guessed to be the thunder machine. The Hellenes had such devices of old.
    Save for the bronze sheet and some ceremonial items-incensors and the like-the chambers were empty. Satisfied with my inquiry, I withdrew discreetly and slipped through the door to rejoin Joscelin.
    " 'Twill suit, for our needs," I said in lowered tones. "It is as Cervianus said; they maintain a vigil below. Let Ti-Philippe join us, and Kazan's Illyrians wait behind this door, on the stair. I'd sooner they were out of the way, and quiet."
    Joscelin nodded, barely visible in the faint, filtered light. "It's a mad plan, Phèdre," he whispered. "You know that, don't you?”
    "Madder than singing Skaldi hearth-songs to the Master of the Straits?" I whispered back.
    "No." He grinned in the darkness. "That was mine, wasn't it? Blame it on the Tsingano, then, for putting me in Mendacant's robes, and pray yours works half as well."
    "Believe me," I said fervently, "I do." Reaching blindly for him, I brushed his cheek with my fingertips, caught a double handful of his shorn, tangled hair and kissed him hard. "Elua keep you, whatever happens."
    "And you," Joscelin whispered against my lips. "And you, my love."
    In all the time we had been together, in all that we had endured, I couldn't remember him calling me that. I let him go, breath catching in my throat. "Go on, then, and bring them."
    He did, and in short order we were all positioned. With every sense and every nerve on edge, I thought the rustling and creaking and whispering would drive me to distraction, but in truth, they handled it with subtlety. Kazan and his men would wait on the stair, ready to spring into action should need be; Joscelin and Ti-Philippe lurked in the echo chambers, hidden from view to all but me, where I could summon them at a glance.
    For my part, I resumed the position I had taken before, lying on my stomach and gazing through the legs of the stool into the Temple below. 'Twas a waiting game, from this point hence.
    And wait I did, for yet another seeming eternity, half-lulled by the melodious chanting below. It matters naught, I thought. I have waited, and waited and waited and waited, throughout this long sojourn; waited for information in the City of Elua, waited for events to turn in La Serenissima, waited on my ransom, waited on the thetalos, waited on the Archon's answer... for months on end, I had done naught but wait.
    I could wait this while longer.
    At last the Priestess of the Crown brought an end to their litany and she rose with her Elect, clapping her hands.
    Somewhere, outside, dawn was breaking. I lay hidden, watching as the Temple of Asherat-of-the-Sea scurried to life. Candles were replenished, the incensors refilled, and a great dais of wood brought before the altar in three parts, borne by harried eunuchs. Untouched by it all, the mighty image of Asherat stared forth, hands reaching down to touch the stone-wrought waves.
    In all the bustle, I took the measure of the echo chamber's pitch, humming softly in either direction until I was sure I had the angle of it. Ti-Philippe looked at me as if I were mad, though he held his tongue; Joscelin's eyes glinted with an answering wildness. Once he had committed to a thing, he held nothing back. Whether or not he learned it in his brief tenure with Anafiel Delaunay or no, we were alike, in that.
    Somewhere, a ray of light struck Asherat's crown alongside the harbor.
    I saw sunlight