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She could still feel the eerie breathing sensation around her as she stormed through the passages of the fortress. It didn't frighten her any longer; at the moment, she doubted a nest of sand-asps in her path would have slowed her stride.

Obviously, he'd hoped for her to fall easily into his bed and never question it as anything other than true attraction to him. She never should have thought of trusting him.

That's not true
, said a voice in her head. It sounded old, and oddly accented; and although nobody had mentioned this possibility, she knew the voice came from a ha'rethe.

She let her pace slow to half of what it had been, to avoid crashing into a wall while she sorted out how to talk to this thing. Tentatively, she focused a thought:
How do you know?

It doesn't actually take much effort to speak to me
, the creature said.
If you shout, someone else might hear you. There are several sensitive people here now. And I know because he asked me what to do. He's very attached to you; I find that surprising. Ha'ra'hain do not normally hold any human in high regard. This one prefers spending time among humans, and being involved in your politics and problems, which is admirable from a human point of view and rather useless from ours.

A thoughtful pause followed. Alyea didn't try to speak, sensing it would be an interruption.
At last the voice resumed:
I have asked the young ha'ra'ha you call Idisio to look into some problems in the northlands. If you are willing to travel, I would like you to go with him. He is still very young, and needs guidance.
Alyea stopped in the middle of a stride and stood balancing on one foot for a moment, her mouth hanging open. “Why me?”
You are, as you recently said, a desert lord without a family. You have no ties holding you to any lands. You are strong, and learn quickly, and can give the young one good guidance.
Alyea slowly lowered her foot to the ground and stood still, frowning at nothing.
I'm bound to Deiq for a year
, she said.
Does that mean he has to come along too?
A young ha'ra'ha must have the guidance of an elder, either ha'rethe or ha'ra'ha. He will serve two purposes: teaching you, and teaching the young one. The arrangement has been paid for, and cannot be undone.

The one you call Deiq paid the price for changing the arrangement. You cannot go to the Qisani or any other source of learning; you must learn from him.
“What was the price?” Speaking aloud seemed to work perfectly well; and at least this way she didn't worry about someone “sensitive” overhearing.
That is a question you must ask him. I will not answer.
She drew a deep breath. “All right. I'll go with Idisio to the northlands.”
Thank you.
“You're welcome.” She sighed and turned around to head back to her rooms.
Deiq stood several yards back, leaning against one wall, arms crossed. He watched her with an unapologetic, dark stare as she marched towards him.
“I told you to leave me alone,” she said when she drew close.
“I did,” he said. “I moved quietly and didn't speak to you. You didn't know I was here until you turned around.”
“You said this place was safe. You could have let me walk unsupervised.”
“No,” he said without visible emotion. “My duty is to stay with you at all times. I shouldn't have let you be alone before, and I won't make that mistake again. When the ha'rethe was trying to talk to you about what happened with Pieas, you could have gone mad if I hadn't gotten there in time to explain what was happening. I neglected my responsibility. I won't do that twice.”
She nodded, conceding the point.
“Do you want to keep walking?” he said. “I'll stay back out of your way, if you'd like to go on stomping around the halls.”
She stiffened, started to snap at him, then once again found herself laughing. “It is a bit silly, isn't it?”
He nodded, a faint smile twitching the corners of his mouth.
“Is there somewhere to sit and talk?”
“There's a courtyard not far away,” he said, and led the way.

The sweet scent of desert roses and the dry, dusty smell of desert palms filled the air. Gravel and sand crunched quietly underfoot. A cactus warbler fled from its shelter in a flowering shrub as they walked by.

The sun laid a dappled pattern on the ground, screened by the wide leaves arching far overhead; the only solid patch of light glittered on a shallow pool of water in the center of the courtyard. Alyea chose a bench by the pool and sat, Deiq settling down beside her without a word. She stared at the placid water for a while: remembering a cool, stone cavern and flickering oil-lamps, contrasting it with the warm, peaceful atmosphere here.

“What was the price for you to be my mentor instead of the Qisani ha'rethe?” she said finally.
Deiq made a small, pained noise. “I had to swear under the binding oaths of blood and fire to stay with you until your training was complete,” he said. “
Only
with you. Do you understand?”
“Whether I share your bed or not?”
He snorted. “I should remember by now that tact isn't your strong point.”
“We're well matched, then,” she said, “because you can't seem to say anything straight out unless I twist your arm round twice.” She couldn't help prodding that sore spot. “So you're willing to be celibate for a year?”
“You still don't understand,” Deiq said. He picked up a small piece of gravel, rolled it into his palm, and clenched his fist around it. Alyea heard a faint crunching noise. Deiq slowly opened his hand to reveal several fragments.
Alyea realized she'd been holding her breath. She let it out in a long hiss.
Deiq tilted his hand and let the pieces fall to the ground. “You're still human,” he told her. “You'll never get that strong—but bone's a lot softer than rock. And
you
won't be able to hold celibate for a year, once you heal.”
Alyea shut her eyes, feeling ill.
“Restraint has to become as much a part of you as breathing,” he said. “You have to
learn
that kind of restraint. Do I really need to explain further?”
“No,” she said after a moment. “No, I don't think so.” She stood and slowly paced around the courtyard. Deiq stayed on the bench and watched her, his expression pained.
“I know it won't help,” he said, “but I'm sorry. I realized at the Qisani that I'd made a very bad mistake, pushing you into this. I let the politics of the human world and my own . . . feelings override the safety of a potential desert lord, and that's unforgivable.”
She stopped at the edge of the pool and stared into the clear water for some time without speaking. A few wide-leafed water plants floated on the surface, and insects buzzed on translucent wings from flower to flower. No fish appeared, and she wondered absently if Scratha would be stocking the pool any time soon.
“The ha'rethe wants me to go north with Idisio,” she said at last. “It wants to find out why the ha'ra'hain are meddling in human affairs. I agreed to go. You'll be teaching both of us.”
“Thanks for consulting me before you made that decision,” he said.
“As much as you ever consulted me,” she shot back. She turned to face him. “Are you going or not?”
“I don't have much choice, if you've already agreed to a ha'rethe's task,” he said. “It won't take kindly to my trying to refuse now.”
She found herself grinning at him with no real amusement behind the expression. “Think of the trip as penance for your many mistakes. After all, if it weren't for you I wouldn't even be a desert lord, and you wouldn't have to tag my heels for the next year.”
Deiq opened his mouth, looking indignant; then rose and moved to stand in front of her. “Alyea, you're stuck with me at your side, like it or not.”
His tone turned harsh and cold. Alyea forced herself not to flinch at the change.
“Done is done. Let go of what was and look at right now. I can't teach you anything if you're fighting me. If you want to walk away after I'm done, I won't stop you. But damned if I'll let you walk without properly training you. Let me do my job, even the parts you may not like.”
He paused, studying her. She stared back at him, caught between anger and astonishment.
“And if I'm lucky,” he went on more softly, “you'll forgive me when I'm through, and think more kindly of me. But if not, at least I'll have trained another desert lord, and a damned good one at that. I'll consider that enough.”
Her anger had drained away by the time he finished speaking, and she felt a surge of compassion for him. In love for the first time in a long life, but forced by his own errors in judgment to hold himself at an emotional distance; he would be miserable no matter what she did.
She suddenly found herself with a new awareness and respect for Deiq's willpower. Accepting Oruen's rejection had been terribly difficult for her, and she'd never questioned her subordinate status. How much worse must the coming months look to the proud ha'ra'ha? By agreeing to travel north without consulting Deiq on the matter, she'd just forced him to follow
her
lead, not the other way around.
“I'm sorry,” she said, and meant it.
He nodded. With a brisk gesture as though to say:
let's move on to more important things
, he said, “There's a banquet tonight. I've asked for us to be seated at the lower end of the table, away from Lord Scratha.”
She considered that. The placement made a certain amount of sense. Lord Scratha wouldn't want her near his hand to remind him that his guests had tried to put an easily controlled usurper in his place.
“Lords Evkit and Rowe of Sessin,” Deiq said, “will be seated below us, at the very end.”
Alyea nodded slowly. That made sense, too, although she didn't look forward to conversing with either one.
“I suggest,” Deiq said, stressing the word only slightly, “that you avoid antagonizing either man. I think Lord Scratha would appreciate that.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Alyea said.
“Lord Evkit respects you,” Deiq said. “I suggest you cultivate that. Lord Rowe will follow Evkit's lead.”
“How?”
“You're resourceful, creative, and strong-willed,” Deiq said with only the faintest trace of irony. “I'm sure you'll find a way.”

Cafad shrugged and turned another page. Someone had carefully wiped the table and shelves of the library free of dust, and the room felt indefinably more awake, more alive; a faint smell of oranges and cinnamon hung in the air.

The book Cafad studied didn't look like the same one Idisio had “found” for him; this one bulked twice as thick and much broader across, occupying a good third of the large table. Idisio eyed the book with respectful envy, knowing the words within likely stood far beyond his still-developing skills to interpret.

There hadn't been much chance to practice of late.
“You knew?” Idisio said, looking back to Cafad.
“Of course I knew,” Cafad said. “I told her it was likely, given the timing.” He sighed and straightened, rubbing his neck.

“What timing?”
Cafad gave Idisio a long, level stare. “Her moon cycle, Idisio.” Idisio felt his face heat rapidly to crimson embarrassment. “Oh. You asked her about—? I mean. . . .” He bit his tongue to stop more inanities from emerging.
The desert lord shook his head, looking amused.
“I'm going north,” Idisio blurted, suddenly desperate to change the subject.
Cafad tilted an eyebrow expressively.
“—oh. You know that too?”
“Yes. Lord Alyea and Deiq will be traveling with you.”
“Oh.”
“Riss will stay here.”
Idisio opened and closed his mouth a few times, finally managing: “Oh. Good.” The last word came out sounding far too much like a question.
“I have a favor to ask.” Cafad pointed to a nearby chair. “Please. Sit.”
Idisio pulled the chair around and sat, then tried to duplicate the eyebrow twitch the desert lord used when waiting for someone to speak. Cafad smiled. Many of the wear lines on the man's face seemed to have smoothed out over the past few hours, as if a tremendous strain had been released. Now he
looked
twenty-eight, instead of forty-eight.
“I want you to take a letter to the king when you leave.”
“All right.” Idisio didn't relish the thought of facing King Oruen again, without Scratha's direct presence as backing. He chewed the inside of one cheek and tried to tell himself he'd handle that audience with dignity and confidence.
He almost had himself convinced when Scratha said, “I also want you to take over as King's Researcher.”
Idisio's jaw dropped open. “You
what?
”
“I can't leave the grounds any longer,” Cafad said. “Being fully bound apparently has a drawback: since the ha'rethe can't protect me from a distance, it won't let me leave the area. The research assignment, even though it was meant to get me out of the way, actually does need doing. I'd be grateful if you'd carry it through for me. You can even take the name I chose to travel under if you like, to keep the appearance of obedience alive. No reason to annoy the king by making him look a fool.”
Idisio stared at the desert lord, unable to think of anything coherent to say. “I can't even write,” he said finally.
“You're learning fast,” Cafad said. “Deiq and Alyea can continue teaching you.”
“But,” Idisio started, then shook his head helplessly.
“Will you do it?”
Idisio couldn't think of any reason to refuse. “Yes,” he said, wishing he could justify a
no
.
“Thank you.” Cafad looked back at the book. “Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?”
“Um,” Idisio said. “Riss is staying?”
“She's pregnant,” Cafad said without looking up. “It's not safe for her to travel with you.”
“Does she know that she's staying?”
“Not yet,” Cafad said. “She doesn't know you're leaving, either. Do you want me to tell her?”
Idisio really wished he could say
yes
to that question. “No. I'd better do it. Thanks for offering.”
“Mm-hnn.” Cafad glanced up, his expression politely blank. “Anything else?”
Idisio shook his head, sighed, and left the room.

“You're
what
?” Riss said not long after that. “I'm going.”

“No,” Idisio said, forcing himself to meet her eyes directly. “You're staying. Lord Scratha's orders.”
“I'm not his slave! He can't tell me what to—” She stopped, her gaze suddenly unfocused. “Why?”
She seemed to be addressing the air around her. Idisio shut his eyes and grimaced.
“But,” she said after a few moments. “He can't. . . .” She fell silent again, frowning. “Oh, all right.” She looked at Idisio.
“The ha'rethe?” he guessed.
“Yes.” She stood and paced the room, her steps jerky and restless, then moved to stand in front of him. “All right. I'll stay, and you'll go. But you'll come back.”
It sounded like an order.
“Yes,” he said. “As soon as I can.”
“Fine.” She turned her back on him. “Go away. I want to be alone.”
Idisio stood, drew a deep breath, and walked towards her instead. He put his hands on her taut shoulders from behind.
“Riss,” he said into her ear. She didn't move.
He summoned all his courage, heart pounding in his throat, and put his arms around her waist. He let his hands rest over her stomach and his forehead against the back of her head.
She didn't push him away, but she didn't move, either.
“I didn't want this,” she said after a while.
This
could have meant anything. Idisio said nothing, hoping she'd clarify without a prompt.
“I wanted to go traveling,” she went on. “I wanted to see the world. Now I'm stuck. Just like I was always afraid of.”
She shifted her weight; he let go, not wanting her to feel trapped. She turned to face him.
“You're not stuck,” he said.
“I can't travel.”
“Just because you're not going with me doesn't mean you're not allowed to go anywhere,” Idisio said. “Lord Scratha needs to arrange alliances with the other desert families.”
“Lord Alyea would be better at that than I would.”
“She's going to Arason with Deiq.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And with you.”
“Well, yes.” He squinted at her, baffled by why that should matter.
She considered, then shook her head as though to let that issue go and said, “You really think Lord Scratha will let me travel locally?”
“I think he'll make you his ambassador,” Idisio said, “and train you up to the job. He doesn't have many people with your kind of brains right now.”
He felt rather proud of himself for sneaking in the compliment. He hadn't even stuttered.
“True,” she said, and smiled.
It abruptly occurred to him that he stood far too close to that smile, with no obscuring door between them. He swallowed words that would have sounded inane and backed away a step, his stomach tightening.
She reached out and grabbed his upper arms. He froze, caught between impulses, not sure whether to run or move forward. She solved the impasse by putting herself right up against him.
“I want you to come back,” she said.
“I will—”
“I'm going to make sure you do.”
“Isn't that a little dramat—”
One of her hands shifted distinctly downward.
“
Uh
.”
She smiled and pressed herself even closer, sliding her other hand down his back. “What were you going to say?”
With the last of his coherency, he managed to gasp, “Never mind.”
“Thought so.”