Naamah's Blessing

did not tell her what had passed between the Emperor’s dragon-possessed daughter and me at our first encounter, when the dragon had chosen me for her mate; and I did not tell her what had passed between us at the end, when Snow Tiger had asked me to invoke Naamah’s blessing on her behalf. That, no one knew; nor was it anyone’s business but Naamah’s.
    I did not tell her about the aftermath of the battle that had nearly torn Ch’in apart, when I had served as Emperor Zhu’s swallower-of-memories, using the gift of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself to take into myself the memories of every soldier, engineer, and alchemist with knowledge of the workings of the Divine Thunder. D’Angelines already had enough cause to fear the folk of the Maghuin Dhonn, and I did not need to give them one more reason.
    But I did tell Lianne Tremaine one thing I’d told no one else. “There is a part of the tale I left out. Do you remember the spirit Marbas?”
    “Of course.” There was an edge to her tone. We had not spoken of the summonings yet. “He took the form of a lion.”
    I nodded. “And you could not compel him to speak, because you could not compel him to take human form.”
    “I remember.” Her fox-like gaze was sharp.
    “He spoke to me in the twilight,” I said slowly. “All of the fallen spirits did. But Marbas offered me a gift. He offered to teach me the art of shape-shifting, the art my mother’s folk lost.”
    Lianne’s breath hissed between her teeth. “Name of Elua!”
    “I refused it,” I hastened to add. “I will own, I was tempted, but the Maghuin Dhonn Herself took that gift away from us, and it is Hers, and Hers alone, to restore. But Marbas… Marbas said that for that, he would give me a gift unasked. And he did.” I took a deep breath. “The charm to reveal hidden things. He roared, and placed it in my thoughts like a jewel. He said the words would be there if I needed them.”
    Her expression was unreadable. “Have you?”
    “Aye,” I said. “In the reflecting lake on White Jade Mountain. When the princess and I jumped into its depths, nothing happened except that she began to drown, and take me down with her. It came to me that the dragon’s spirit was surely a hidden thing—and then the words of the charm were there, and I spoke them. That is when the dragon’s spirit emerged from the princess.”
    “You never told any of us that the spirit Marbas had given you a gift,” Lianne said in a flat tone.
    “No,” I said. “I didn’t.”
    Lianne Tremaine rose from her chair and paced her tower chamber restlessly. “Elua have mercy! All that time we were haggling for gifts, and the spirits were showering you with them unasked.”
    “Just the one,” I murmured. “And I suspect it was because it
was
unasked. I do not think bargains with them ever end well, my lady. How do you like the one gift you bargained for?”
    She gave me a strange look, her nostrils flaring. “The language of ants? Let us say there is a reason I begged a chamber high above-ground, and that I am grateful for winter’s dormancy.”
    “Even so.”
    “You tried to tell us.” Lianne raked both hands through her hair. “From the first time when we summoned the spirit Valac; it was a trick, it was always going to be a trick. And none of us listened. Gods! We were fools.”
    I watched her pace. “And yet if you had not done it, my Ch’in princess would have died in that lake,” I said. “And the dragon with her. The Emperor would have been overthrown, Ch’in conquered from within, and the weapons of the Divine Thunder loosed upon the world. So mayhap there was some greater purpose in it after all.”
    The poetess laughed, but it was a harsh, bitter sound. “Ah, gods! There is a part of me that hopes it is true, Moirin mac Fainche, for it redeems our folly in some measure.”
    “And there is a part of you that resents the notion,” I observed.
    She shrugged. “That all of us in the Circle of Shalomon were but unwitting bit players in a drama meant to be played out on a stage far, far away? Yes, of course. I cannot help it.”
    “I know.”
    Lianne gave me a wry smile. “And we have not even gotten to Vralia yet.”
    “No,” I said. “Nor to Raphael de Mereliot, of whom I would speak.”
    Her brows rose. “You care for him yet?”
    I frowned. “I have a sense that there are matters yet unsettled between us,” I said, choosing not to elaborate. “But it can wait longer. There are more pressing