Kushiel's Mercy

“Imri—” he began, his voice rough.
    “Don’t.” I shook my head at him. “Please don’t, Joscelin. I couldn’t bear it. I remember my own madness. I remember what I said and did, and it was vile and hurtful. With all that happened, even at the worst of it, you were only trying to protect me from myself.”
    His eyes shone. “I thought . . .”
    “I know,” I said. “I do.”
    Joscelin embraced me, his callused hands firm against my shard-studded shoulder blades.
    I stifled the pain. Still, he felt it and let go. “I’m proud of you,” he said simply. “So proud.”
    I blinked away my tears. “I sought but to follow your lead.”
    “Imriel.” At Joscelin’s side, Phèdre’s closed eyes opened. A sweep of lashes lifting, unshuttered. She looked at me with wonderment. “Blessed Elua joins more than the hearts of lovers,” she said. “For surely he knew what he was about when he sent us into Daršanga to find you.”
    Joscelin glanced toward the south. “What in Elua’s name was that thing?”
    “Ptolemy Solon called it a ghafrid ,” I said. “An elemental desert spirit. I called it a demon. It was trapped in the stone.”
    “Ptolemy Solon,” Phèdre echoed. “The Governor of Cythera?” She furrowed her brow, examining her restored memories. “The one rumored to be your mother’s patron?”
    “Yes.” In the midst of everything her quick wits were beginning to work on the puzzle.
    Despite my aching head and stinging backside, it made me smile. “It’s a very long and very strange tale. And I will gladly tell you the whole of it, but not right now.”
    “What can we do to help?” Phèdre asked without hesitation.
    I looked around at the milling chaos. “Right now, help people stay calm. Tell them it’s all right; everything will be all right.”
    It took a while to get everything sorted out. Dozens of people had been injured by the flying shards or suffered severe abrasions from the ghafrid ’s passage. The Royal Chirurgeon, Lelahiah Valais, arrived. Although she was no less dazed than anyone else in the City, she took control of the situation at Sidonie’s order. Tents and cots were fetched and a makeshift infirmary quickly established in Elua’s Square.
    Aside from one young soldier who was in danger of losing an eye, most of the injuries were superficial; but it took a long time to remove all the tiny shards of emerald. Teams of chirurgeons worked diligently with tweezing implements, washing and salving myriad punctures or bandaging raw patches of scoured flesh. Lelahiah Valais attended me personally. She would have tended to Drustan first, but the Cruarch insisted that I take precedence. For once I didn’t argue. I lay on my belly, listening to the sound of gem fragments plinking one by one into a metal pan.
    Sidonie stopped in to check on my progress.
    “How are they?” I asked, meaning everyone.
    “Scared, confused, horrified.” She was quiet a moment. “I understand what they’re feeling. I was there, too. If you hadn’t found the gem, I would have been part of launching a civil war.”
    “We knew the risks of entering the City,” I said.
    “Yes.” Sidonie nodded. “It makes a difference. I’ve already been through the shock of awakening from a lie. I’ve had time to live with it. I’m talking to as many people as I can, trying to reassure them that it’s not their fault. But it will take time.”
    “Healing does,” I murmured.
    “Mm-hmm.” She cast a glance over my flesh. “You look like a demon’s pincushion.”
    “Don’t make me laugh,” I said. “My head hurts.”
    She gave me a weary smile. “Better laughter than tears. Come find me when you’re done.”
    It took almost an hour for Lelahiah Valais to pluck the last shard of emerald from my flesh. I rose and donned my clothing while her assistant went to fetch Drustan. He entered the tent and took my place on the cot, sitting quietly while Lelahiah examined his face. I found myself feeling awkward in his presence.
    “I’m sorry this came to pass, my lord,” I said to him.
    Drustan looked sidelong at me. “I should have known. When I returned to Alba, the spell lost its hold on me. But when I returned, it reclaimed me and I forgot myself.” He studied me. “That’s why you put an ollamh ’s charm on Sidonie, isn’t it?”
    “Yes,” I said. “But it worked only for a time. And I’d been warned. You had no way of knowing, my lord.”
    He shook his head. “I should have