Naamah's Blessing

patio. The air of Terra Nova was thick and moist, smelling of green, growing things.
    Stoic Nahuatl servants brought course after course of food, including many unfamiliar fruits and vegetables, which were indeed a welcome sight, and flatbread made from a strange grain. The meal culminated in a delicious dish of fresh-caught fish simmered and slathered in a spicy red sauce comprised of yet another unfamiliar fruit, this one savory rather than sweet.
    I reveled in its tang on my tongue. “What is this?”
    “Do you like it?” Porfirio beamed. “The fish is called
huachinango
. It’s quite good, I think. The sauce is made with a fruit the natives call
tomati
, and a blend of Aragonian spices.” He took a judicious bite. “Yes, quite good. Unfortunately, we’ve not had much success in exporting
tomati
plants.”
    “Too delicate to survive the journey?” Balthasar inquired. “Or too difficult to cultivate?”
    Bao gave me a speculative glance. “I bet Moirin could do it.”
    “Neither.” The mayor dabbed his lips with a linen napkin. “Due to an unfortunate resemblance to the leaves of deadly nightshade, there’s a persistent rumor that the fruits are poisonous.”
    Balthasar dropped his fork in alarm.
    Porfirio Reyes laughed. “I assure you, it’s utterly baseless. I’ve eaten my weight in
tomati
without a single ill effect.”
    I was hoping the mayor would serve
chocolatl
after the meal, remembering the exquisite taste of the frothy beverage, but instead he insisted on tapping the cask of perry brandy we’d brought him. He swirled the contents of his glass and inhaled deeply before allowing himself a sip.
    “Delicious.” Porfirio smacked his lips. “I can taste the sunlight on the pears as they ripen in the orchard.” Setting down his glass, he regarded the four of us. Beneath his drooping lids, his eyes had a shrewd gleam. “Now, let us discuss this matter. First, I would like to know if your tale of romantic folly, this search for the lost Dauphin, is merely an excuse for a second attempt to undermine our trade with the Nahuatl.”
    “No, my lord,” I said. “It’s not.”
    “Although House Shahrizai does hope to recoup its investment,” Balthasar said. “At least on this journey. But we plan no others.”
    The mayor’s fingers drummed on the table. “You claim to be a seer, Lady Moirin?”
    “Of a sort,” I said honestly. “All I can tell you is that I’m very, very certain Prince Thierry is alive.”
    His expression softened. “It is highly unlikely, my lady.”
    “Nonetheless.”
    “You haven’t the faintest ideas of the dangers you face.” He waved one hand. “What little you’ve seen here is nothing compared to the jungle. Even the Nahuatl avoid it, and they’re some of the most fearless folk I’ve ever met.” He leaned forward. “Do you know what they seek to achieve as the measure of an ideal man? They have a saying for it. A stone face and a stone heart.”
    I shrugged helplessly. “My lord mayor, I know it’s dangerous, but I
have
to go. Do you mean to prevent us?”
    “I am considering it,” Porfirio Reyes said frankly. “My conscience counsels against allowing a woman to undertake such a risk.”
    My
diadh-anam
flared in alarm. “Close your eyes.”
    He blinked at me. “I beg your pardon?”
    “All of you, please,” I added. “Or just glance away for a moment.”
    “I beg you grant the lady’s request, my lord mayor.” Denis de Toluard averted his gaze. “She means to summon her magic.”
    “Her what?”
    “It will take only a few seconds, my lord,” I said. “Please?”
    The mayor shrugged his stocky shoulders and closed his eyes. “Never let it be said I refused a beautiful woman’s earnest request.”
    As soon as the others followed suit, I breathed in deeply and summoned the twilight, blowing it around us. To be sure, it would have been more effective were the courtyard not already in dusk, but the twilight at once deepened and brightened everything, turning blue shadows to violet, making the torch-flames burn silvery-white.
    When I bade him open his eyes, Porfirio gave me a startled look. “What trick is this?”
    “Moirin’s magic,” Bao said with satisfaction.
    One of the Nahuatl servants entered the courtyard, halted, and stared around in blank confusion, calling out a question to someone inside.
    “What ails the woman?” Porfirio demanded. “We’re right in front of her!”
    “She can’t see us,” I said softly. “No