Naamah's Blessing

pulling her against me and kissing her thoroughly and deeply. When at last I released her, she shuddered all over and sighed with profound gratitude. “Thank you.”
    I stroked her bare arm, marveling at how real it felt. “Is this about Thierry?”
    “No.” Her star-bright eyes were filled with candor and regret. “I wish it were.”
    I couldn’t help sighing. “Why
are
the gods so stingy with their directions?”
    She didn’t answer right away, watching my fingertips trail over her fine, fine skin. “There is a balance that must be maintained, Moirin,” she said at length. “Even gods dare not upset it with their interventions, lest all the worlds crumble. Did not the dragon tell you as much in Ch’in?”
    I blinked. “You know about the dragon?”
    Jehanne smiled with quiet sorrow. “I know many things, few of them useful. For instance, I know that Naamah has showered uncommon blessings on you, especially for one who had never pledged herself to her service. Would you not agree?”
    “Aye, my lady,” I said. “But—”
    She laid a finger on my lips, silencing me. “You have served her in your own way, I know.”
    “You do?”
    “Yes, Moirin.” Jehanne glanced at me beneath her lashes. “I know about your Ch’in princess, and your broad-shouldered Vralian lad. I know about your wedding night. But I am here to tell you that the sacrifices Naamah asks of us may not always be so pleasant and easy. You have a hard choice coming.”
    “What is it?” I asked her.
    She shook her head. “I am not allowed to say. Only to remind you that you have been blessed with uncommon grace.”
    “All right.” I nodded. “Thank you. I will be mindful of it.”
    “Good.” Looking relieved, Jehanne wound her arms around my neck. “Tell me you loved me best, Moirin,” she murmured, kissing me. “At least among the women you’ve known. Lie if you must; I won’t mind. I know I was not the most worthy among them.”
    “I loved you best,” I said truthfully.
    “Did you?”
    I laughed. “Yes, Jehanne. Worthy or not, among the women I have known, I love you best.”
    She gave me a sparkling look. “I’m glad.”
    Ah, gods! It was true. I had come to cherish my friendship with my fiercely reserved Ch’in princess Snow Tiger, and I had delighted in her willingness to show her vulnerable side to me in asking for Naamah’s blessing; and I would always be a little bit in love with my lovely Rani Amrita for her unfailing courage and the immense kindness she had shown me, not the least of which came about when I was tormented by Kamadeva’s diamond, racked with desire beyond my control.
    But neither of them was Jehanne, whom I had loved first and best.
    In my dream, I demonstrated it at length.
    I awoke to bells clanging, and shouting abovedeck.

THIRTY-THREE

    B ao was already out of our narrow berth, reaching for his bamboo staff. I came out of sleep hard, still entangled in the remnants of my dream, imagining I could smell the lingering trace of Jehanne’s perfume, feel the silken warmth of her arms wrapped around me.
    “What is it?” I asked sleepily. A jolt of alarm raced through me, and I sat upright. “Ah, gods! Is it a fire?”
    Bao shook his head. “I don’t know.”
    Barefoot and sleep-disheveled, we raced topside, scrambling up the ladder, the other inhabitants of the wardroom hard on our heels.
    On the main deck, we found a grim-faced Denis de Toluard with one of Rousse’s sailors in his custody, others surrounding them. In the dim light of the safety lanterns hanging from the masts, I couldn’t tell who Denis had in his grip.
    “Denis?” I felt disoriented and bewildered. “What passes here?”
    Captain Rousse pushed his way through the knot of sailors. “I’d like to know that myself!”
    “Captain.” Denis greeted him with a curt nod. “I couldn’t sleep, so I came abovedeck for a bit of fresh air.” He shook the fellow by the scruff of his neck. “I found this one slinking out of the chart-house.”
    “And this shoved under his shirt.” Alaric Dumont, the first mate, showed the captain his thick logbook containing all his invaluable notes and charts. “Pried the lock on the case by the look of it.”
    “What?” Septimus Rousse sounded as bewildered as I felt. He peered at the fellow. “Edouard? What in the world were you doing?”
    The sailor didn’t answer. I recognized him now, a tall Eisandine fellow I knew only as a hard worker.
    “Edouard!” The bewilderment