Kushiel's Mercy

never did.”
    “Damn.” I closed the book. “Well, it’s somewhat.” I remembered the searing pain of Sunjata’s needle plunging deep into my flesh and shivered. A madman’s sweat and toad-slime. Gods.
    “Are you sure you’re all right?” Jeanne asked.
    “I’ll manage.” I handed the book back to her. “Jeanne, listen. It was Barquiel L’Envers who helped me get this far. He’s the only ranking peer of the realm who wasn’t in the City that night. He’s planning to raise a delegation to petition Ysandre to step aside and let Alais assume the throne until we can find a way to undo this.”
    “L’Envers helped you?” Her voice held an incredulous note.
    “He’s desperate, too.” I smiled briefly. “Or eager to be rid of me. Tell him about this. If nothing else, it’s one more piece of proof that I’m not remembering fever-dreams. And mayhap there are other texts no one’s ever heeded that might hold other answers.”
    Resolve strengthened her features. “It’s worth looking.”
    “Will you help me get to Cythera?” I asked.
    Jeanne gave me a long look. “I shouldn’t. I’m not sure it wouldn’t be violating my chirurgeon’s oath.”
    “Do no harm,” I said softly, thinking of Canis’ medallion. “My lady, believe me when I tell you that you will do me far greater harm if you withhold your aid.”
    “The Dauphine?” she asked with sympathy.
    I nodded, suddenly bereft of words.
    Jeanne sighed. “I’ll do it.”
    “Thank you.” I caught her hands and kissed them. “Thank you. Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.” Silence fell between us. Jeanne de Mereliot freed one hand, touched my cheek with that healing gentleness I remembered so well. Her grey eyes were clear and grave and lovely. “I keep a private chamber here at the Academy if you’d prefer to stay here tonight.” She smiled a little. “I promise you, it’s much tidier than my study.”
    Respite.
    Eisheth’s mercy.
    I understood what she was offering, and I wanted it more than I would have reckoned. A blessing to carry with me, a memory of grace to ward off the memories of madness that racked me with shame. A night’s haven, a talisman against the thoughts of Sidonie in Astegal’s bed.
    But it would blur other memories, too.
    Sidonie, silvered by moonlight, her face in shadow. The sweat of love-making drying on our skin.
    I love you. Very, very much.
    Always, I’d said. Always and always.
    I needed to cling to it. It was that memory which lent me purpose and courage. I couldn’t afford to let go of it, to lessen it in any way. I was afraid I’d fall apart if I did.
    “You are as kind as you are beautiful,” I said to Jeanne. “And there is a large part of me that would like nothing better. But, my lady, I’m very much afraid that your kindness would prove my undoing.”
    She smiled again, but there was sorrow in it. “Then I’ll send word to Cadmar of Landras at the inn. Promise me you’ll have a care for yourself.”
    “It’s a long sea voyage,” I said. “I’ll have naught to do but rest idle.”
    Jeanne frowned, a belated thought occurring to her. “Why is L’Envers sending you alone and in secret? Do you reckon he is hoping to be rid of you?”
    “I don’t think so, no.” I shook my head. “It’s a long story, and there are parts of it that are dangerous to know. But the one who drove the needle into me, the one who bade me go to Cythera and seek out Ptolemy Solon—my mother sent him. He told me as much.”
    She drew a sharp breath. “ Melisande?”
    “The same,” I said wryly.
    “Why?” Jeanne asked in bewilderment.
    “She’s Solon’s mistress,” I said. “I’d learned that much on my own. Beyond that . . .” I shook my head. “Blessed Elua alone knows. But if he’s willing to help, it’s only because I’m her son.”
    “Melisande,” Jeanne repeated. “Name of Elua!” She gave a short laugh. “What a piece of irony that would be if Melisande Shahrizai’s intrigues provided the key to Terre d’Ange’s salvation.”
    I hadn’t thought about it in those terms.
    Irony be damned. Let the gods laugh, let old scores be settled, let old wounds heal. I was sick unto death of them anyway. All I wanted was to undo this madness. I wanted to erase this grief and confusion that haunted the land. I wanted Terre d’Ange back. I wanted the memories of my loved ones back. I wanted Sidonie back.
    Back in my arms, back in my heart, where she belonged.
    Where we fit so well