Kushiel's Dart

ever be separated by the waters you ruled, until love daring enough to cross the breach was born once more, and-one came willing to take your place."
    The Master of the Straits spoke with the finality of a wave crashing to shore, and I knew, then, that I had lost. "It is so."
    Hyacinthe straightened; his face cleared and he laughed, a raw gaiety to it this time. "Well, then, my lord, will I serve?"
    "You will serve." The Master of the Straits inclined his head, his eyes gone a dark and compassionate blue. "A long and lonely apprenticeship, until you are ready to take on the chains of my geis , freeing me to leave this earth and follow Elua's path, where Heaven's bastard sons are welcome."
    "You have used us harshly, Elder Brother," Quintilius Rousse muttered darkly. "What's to become of the lad, then?"
    "I have used you less harshly than fate has used me." The Master of the Straits turned an implacable face to him. "The sea has loved you, friend sailor; count it a blessing. Half your folk would have died in the crossing had I not taken you in hand. My successor will be bound to this isle, as was I. That curse will not be broken until the One God repents of my father's punishment, and His memory is long."
    "What of the Straits?" Drustan asked in Cruithne; his brow was furrowed with the effort of following the proceedings, for Hyacinthe's words had been in D'Angeline. Enough, though, he understood. "Will the crossing remain forbidden?"
    "You hold that key." The pale hand pointed once more at the gold signet on Drustan's finger. "Wed, and open the lock."
    "Naught but twenty thousand howling Skaldi and the traitors of Cam-lach stand in the way," Quintilius Rousse said sardonically. "While we languish on a forsaken rock in the middle of the sea, with no army in sight."
    "I promised my aid," the Master of the Straits said, unmoved. "And you shall have it." He swept his arm above the bronze vessel again, its waters rippling. "All that has passed in Terre d'Ange, I will show you. Your men and your horses and arms, I will bring safe to land. No more, can I do. Will you see it now?"
    They looked at me; surprised, I looked back, and found I was trembling. Truly, there is a limit to what the mind can compass in one day. I'd risen prepared to chain my life to this lonely isle. It is a hard thing, to turn aside from so deep a path. "No," I said, shaking my head and struggling to keep my voice steady. "My lord, if it please you ... I would ask a little time, an hour, mayhap. Might we have that long?"
    "You may. I will send for you an hour before sundown." He bowed, then turned to Hyacinthe. "This day, I give you. Only know that your feet will never again leave this soil."
    Hyacinthe nodded, sober-eyed.
    He understood.
    In the tower once more, in a sitting room with glassless windows, I called for wine, raising my voice sharply. The servants jumped, and hurried to obey; I was beyond caring, at that moment. I drank half a glass at a draught when it arrived, and looked hard at Hyacinthe. The others drew away, leaving us alone.
    "Why?" I asked him. "Why did you do it?"
    He smiled faintly, toying with the wineglass in his hands. There were dark smudges under his eyes, but now that the worst had come to pass, he seemed more himself. "I couldn't have, without you, you know. I didn't have the answer. It was so vast, I couldn't see it." He drank a little wine and stared past me out the window. "I knew it when I saw the isle, that my road ended here. I just couldn't see why . Last night, when I saw that you knew, I was afraid."
    "Hyacinthe." My voice broke as I whispered his name, tears starting in my eyes. "A nation at war has no need of anguissettes . It should be me. Let me stay."
    "And do what?" he asked gently. "Throw rocks at the Skaldi? Knife the dying? Tell their fortunes? A nation at war has no need of Tsingani half-breeds untrained to arms, either."
    "You have the dromonde ! It is more than I can offer!"
    "It's the drotnonde that brought me here, Phedre." Hyacinthe took my hands in his and looked down at our interlaced fingers. "It's the dromonde that sets me apart from D'Angeline and Tsingani alike. If it has led me to a place where I belong, then let me stay." Releasing my hands, he touched the diamond at my throat. "Kushiel marked you as his own," he said softly. "Whatever target he had in mind when he cast his Dart, I think it was not the Master of the Straits."
    I shuddered and looked away.
    "Besides," Hyacinthe added wryly,