Kushiel's Mercy

saddened me.
    Kratos—Kratos was snoring in his chamber.
    The sound made me smile. I slipped from our quarters into the hallway. It was late and the palace would be locked and guarded for the night. Still, there was an inner courtyard that would suffice.
    Torches were burning low along the corridors. There were guards at every corner, but they let me pass. I was Leander Maignard, harmless. The last one yawned, opening the brass-bound door onto the courtyard. Cool night air washed over my face. Overhead, stars spangled the sky, dimmed by a full moon. In the courtyard, flames danced from four torches arrayed in a square.
    In between them, a figure knelt.
    “Sidonie,” I whispered.
    Her back was to me. It didn’t matter. I knew her; I would have known her anywhere. I took a step forward. One of the torches peeled away. Indigo robes, flowing toward me.
    Intent Amazigh eyes in a narrow strip of visible face.
    “This is not for you,” he said briefly in Hellene.
    Her bowed head rose and turned. Sidonie gazed over her shoulder at me.
    “It is a D’Angeline custom,” I said softly. “Like her highness, I do but seek to keep Blessed Elua’s vigil.”
    The guard’s finger wagged. “Not here. Not tonight.”
    I looked past him. Torchlight streaked her face. Like me, Sidonie prayed for guidance.
    She was frightened and confused. I wanted to go to her, wanted to embrace and kiss her. I wanted to tell her everything, and soothe away her fears with truths instead of subtle lies.
    Instead, I bowed to the Amazigh.
    “Forgive me for disturbing her highness’ prayers,” I murmured. “I will go elsewhere.”
    “That would be wise,” he said briefly. “Go, then.”
    I went.
    And with every step I took, I felt her watch me go.

Fourty
    So it was that I kept Elua’s vigil in my own way. I kept it in the privacy of my bedchamber, kneeling before the narrow slit of a window that illuminated it, my knees aching on the flagstones as I sat on my heels.
    I watched the moon move across the skies and prayed.
    For what? I couldn’t even have said. I just prayed. And somewhere, in the dim hours before dawn, I felt a presence surround me. It settled over me like a cloak of feathers, warm and golden. There was brightness, so much brightness; and somewhat blocking it.
    A sob caught in my throat, jolting me awake.
    I straightened stiffly.
    “Will you break your fast, Leander?”
    I squinted at Sunjata, leaning on the sill of my window. “What are you doing here?”
    He moved away with careless grace. “Keeping watch over you.”
    I broke my fast with bread and honey and strong tea imported from Bhodistan, and told Sunjata most of what had passed on the Longest Night. He listened without comment until I was finished.
    “So she feels it?”
    I drizzled more honey on another piece of bread. Thin loops and coils of gold, sinking into itself. “Yes.”
    “And Justina agreed to exchange the ring?” Sunjata pressed.
    “Yes.” I gave him a sharp look. “Sunjata, why didn’t you attend last night? It would seem to me a passing good opportunity to forge new connections.”
    “Yes.” He sighed. “Yes and no. Whatever connections I make here will be no use to me if you succeed, and if you fail . . . Leander, hear me. This business has me uneasy, and the longer it goes on, the less I like it. If it goes awry . . .”
    “There’s naught to implicate you,” I said. “And I would have thought you of all people would wish to see Carthage brought low.”
    Sunjata gave me a bitter smile. “Will it restore what was taken from me?”
    “No.” I was silent a moment. “Do as you wish. Go, if you like. There’s naught you can do to aid me here, anyway.”
    He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”
    “Of course it is,” I said.
    “No.” Sunjata studied me. “It’s not.”
    “Name of Elua, man!” My voice rose. “Either tell me why, or stop moping!”
    “I can’t,” he murmured.
    “Which?” I asked wryly.
    That, at least, made him laugh. “Ah, gods! All right. I’ll try.”
    It was passing strange. Justina had said I seemed odd. Well and fine, I hadn’t denied it. I knew full well I’d changed on this journey. But Sunjata was behaving oddly, too. He had almost from the beginning. And I’d no idea why.
    Since there was no merit in worrying about it, I left off. At last, we were getting closer to attaining our goals. Mayhap it made him nervous. Me, it filled with hope.
    I dispatched Kratos to