Kushiel's Dart

was an open wound still, which we did not discuss, but the dreadful tension had broken. When Alcuin was well enough to travel, Delaunay brought him to the sanctuary of Naamah, where I had gone betimes with Cecilie Laveau-Perrin.
    What passed between Alcuin and the priests and priestesses of Naa mah, I do not know. He did not offer to tell me, and I did not ask. But he was three days in that place, and when he returned, I knew they had absolved him of any sin against Naamah. A portion of the guilt that had clouded him was gone, and it shone freely in his every word and gesture. The healing waters of the springs had done him good, too. Though he wouldn't allow Alcuin to venture into the City unattended any more than he did me, with the Yeshuite doctor's approval, Delaunay made Alcuin a gift of an elegant grey saddle horse. I was glad enough of Alcuin's recovery that I wasn't even jealous; anyway, it is customary to present an adept with a gift when they have made their marque, and I am sure Delaunay was aware enough of the traditions of the Night Court to know it.
    To be precise, Alcuin's marque was not actually made. His still-healing wound prevented it, as it would be a lengthy business lying on his belly. But the necessary sum was in his coffer, and there was no question that his tenure was done. I made mention of it to Master Tielhard when I put Rogier Clavel's patron-gift to good use. Delaunay at least allowed me that much, though he ordered Hovel and another manservant to accompany me. They spent the time dicing in the wineshop, a freedom I envied. By this time, I was suffering a tedium so deadly I would have gladly scrubbed the Marquise Belfours' chamber pot, for the distraction of a scathing punishment at the end of it.
    In this state of mind, I luxuriated under the marquist's ministrations, lulled by the exquisite pleasure of the tight-needled tapper. Master Tielhard shook his head and muttered under his breath, but I kept from twitching and gave him no cause for real complaint. Instead I concentrated on the isolated pain, letting my mind still so that it became the center of my being. The session passed all too quickly, and I was surprised when Master Tielhard gave my buttocks a light slap. "You're done, child," he growled, and I had the sense he'd already told me once. "Don your clothes, and be on your way."
    I sat up, blinking; the interior of the marquist's shop was hazy beneath a veil of red. It cleared quickly and I made out Master Tielhard's apprentice coming toward me with averted eyes, blushing as he proffered my gown. He was nearly a man grown now, but no less shy than the first time I'd come. The new ink of my extended marque burned like fire, and I wondered what Master Tielhard would say if I took his apprentice into the back room and relieved him of a measure of his shyness. I'm sure you wouldn't betray Lord Delaunay's trust in such a way, would you, Phedre ? With a sigh, I dressed, and hoped that Delaunay would allow me to return to the service of Naamah in short order.
    When I arrived at the house, my wine-cheered escorts in tow, I was met by one of the maidservants. "Lord Delaunay would see you in the library, Phedre," she murmured, not quite meeting my eyes. Sometimes I missed my days at Cereus House, when I knew all the servants by name and called them friend; I'd felt it more than ever during this confinement. But I was heartened by the summons, thinking perhaps my hopes had been answered.
    Delaunay was waiting for me. He glanced up as I entered, shielding my eyes from the late-afternoon sun that slanted through a window, bathing the many volumes on his shelves with a mellow glow.
    "You sent for me, my lord?" I said politely.
    "Yes." He smiled briefly, but his eyes were serious. "Phedre . . . before I speak further, I would ask you somewhat. You have some idea that there is a purpose in what I do, and if I have not revealed it to you, you know well enough that it is because I would afford you as much protection as ignorance allows. But I am reminded, of late, of how very slight that protection is. What you do is dangerous, my dear. You have said it once, but I ask again. Is it still your will to pursue this service?"
    My heart leapt; he was offering another assignation. "My lord, you know it is," I said, making no effort to disguise my eagerness.
    "Very well." His gaze drifted past me, seeing again whatever it was Delaunay saw, then returned to my face. "Know then that I am not minded to