ã€ŠCold Steel (Spiritwalker #3)ã€‹


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    1

    I was serving drinks to the customers at the boardinghouse when a prince came to kill me.

    I had my back to the gate and had just set a tray of empty mugs on the bar when the cheerful buzz of conversation abruptly ceased. Behind the counter, Uncle Joe finished drawing a pitcher of ale from a barrel before he turned. His gaze widened as he took in the sight behind me. He reached under the counter and set my sheathed sword next to the tray, in plain view.

    I swung around.

    As with most family compounds in the city of Expedition, the boardinghouse¡¯s rooms and living quarters were laid out around a central courtyard. A wall and gate separated the living area from the street. Soldiers stood in the open gate, surrounding the man who intended to be the next ruler of the Taino kingdom.

    Prince Caonabo had a broad, brown face, and his black hair was almost as long as mine, although his fell loose while I confined mine in a braid whose tip brushed my hips. He wore white cotton cloth draped around his body much like a Roman toga, and simple leather sandals. Had I doubted his rank because of the plainness of his dress, I might have guessed his importance from the gold torc and gold armbands he wore, as well as the shell wrist-guards and anklets that ornamented his limbs and the jade-stone piercing the skin just above his chin.

    The prince raised a hand, palm up. A flame sparked from the center of his palm, flowering outward as a rose blooms.

    ¡°Catherine Bell Barahal, you have been accused in the council hall of Expedition of being responsible for the death of the honorable and most wise cacica, what you call a queen, she with the name Anacaona. As Queen Anacaona¡¯s only surviving son, and as heir to her brother, the cacique, I am required to pursue justice in this matter.¡±

    I met his gaze. ¡°I would like to know who made that accusation.¡±

    ¡°I made the accusation.¡±

    He knew what I had done.

    I took a step back, but I could not move faster than magic. Warmth tingled across my skin as the backlash of his fire magic brushed across my skin and stirred heat within my lungs and heart.

    Yet as the light of the growing flame shimmered across his face, his features melted quite startlingly, like candle wax. He was as poured into a new mold and began to transform into a different person. I had not known that fire mages were skilled in the art of illusion, able to make themselves appear as someone else! Even the bar and courtyard were cunningly wrought illusions that, like his face and body, dissolved into mist. A gritty smoke filled my lungs, choking me.

    Leaping back, I grabbed for my sword, but before I could grasp the hilt, my hand burst into flame. A blast of hot wind dispersed the stinging veil of smoke. As my vision cleared, I found myself standing on grand stone steps that led up to the imposing entry of a palatial building. Its walls and roof blazed. Sheets of fire crackled into the air like the vast wings of a molten dragon. Flames clawed searing daggers into my flesh as I groped for my sword. I had no cold magic with which to kill the inferno. Only if I could wield cold steel had I a chance to save myself.

    My fingers closed over the smooth hilt. I tugged, but the blade stuck in its sheath. An icy wind poured down in gouts of freezing air that battered against the raging flames, as if fire and ice were at war and I was at the center of the battle. The flames shimmered from gold to white, and in the blink of an eye the fire transmuted to become falling snow. Brushing away the snowflakes icing my eyes and lips, I tried to make sense of what had happened.

    Where was I? Why was everything changing so fast? Was I dreaming?

    Instead of a burning building, the sheer cliff face of an ice sheet loomed over me. The pressure of its glacial mass slowly advanced, grinding and groaning. I pulled on my sword, but the blade was crushed in the ice and my hand had frozen to it. I simply could not move.

    Beyond my frozen body lay a hollow cavern that bloomed with the harsh glamour of cold fire. In that lofty cave, the melted form that had first appeared to me as Prince Caonabo glittered as it changed. Frost and crystals shaped themselves into the figure and face of a man I recognized: the Master of the Wild Hunt.

    My sire.

    His expression was as cold and empty as his heart. ¡°So are you trapped, little cat. You will never be free.¡±

    ¡°I will be free! All of us will be free!¡± I tugged at the sword with all the heart and might I had in me.

    Instead, the sword yanked me back the other way so hard that it hauled me right off my feet.

    ¡°Cat! Fiery Shemesh! You are talking nonsense in your sleep and besides that trying to drag me off the bed.¡±

    My cousin Beatrice loomed over me, her thick black curls framing her familiar and beloved face. Her fingers clutched mine, and I realized I had been holding her hand for quite some time. For fifteen years, since I was orphaned at the age of six, Bee had been my best friend, as close as a loving sister. Just to see her helped me relax enough that I could take stock of where I was and what I was doing.

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    We had fallen asleep together in the drowsy afternoon heat in an upstairs room of Aunty Djeneba¡¯s boardinghouse.

    After washing up on the jetty of the city of Expedition, on the island of Kiskeya in the Antilles, I had come to live at the boardinghouse. Here Andevai Diarisso Haranwy, the cold mage I had been forced to marry back in Europa, had courted me and won my heart. Bee and I were napping on the bed Andevai had built for his and my wedding night. I shut my eyes, remembering his kisses. For a few breaths I pretended I could hear his voice downstairs in the courtyard, as if he had just come home from the carpentry yard where he worked. But he was gone.

    You will never be free.

    I sat up, trying to shake off the memory. ¡°What a frightful nightmare I just had. Pinch me, Bee.¡±

    She pinched my arm with the force of iron tongs wielded by a brawny blacksmith.

    ¡°Ah! You monster!¡± I cried.

    ¡°You said to do it!¡±

    I shook my arm until the pain subsided, while she laughed. ¡°No, it¡¯s all right. I just wanted to make sure I¡¯m finally awake.¡±

    Bee tapped my cheek affectionately. ¡°You were talking in your sleep. You¡¯ve become quite the revolutionary, Cat. You kept mumbling, ¡®All of us will be free.¡¯ ¡±

    With a sigh, I leaned against her shoulder. Bee was significantly shorter than I was, but she was sturdy and determined, easily strong enough to hold me up when I needed support. ¡°It¡¯s no wonder I mumble such words in my sleep. When I wake up, I remember that my sire threw Vai into his magical coach and drove off with him into the spirit world.¡±

    Bee pressed her fingers to my knee, staring at me with brows drawn down as if she could bend the world to her will through her glower, and sometimes I was sure she could. ¡°I know you¡¯re worried because your sire is the Master of the Wild Hunt, because he is a powerful magical denizen of the spirit world, and because not even the most powerful cold mage can stand against him. But even though all that is true, it doesn¡¯t mean you and I can¡¯t defeat him and rescue Andevai.¡±

    ¡°I always feel so heartened when you explain things in exactly that cheering way, Bee.¡±

    ¡°Do you doubt that we can?¡± she demanded in the belligerent manner I loved.

    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt that we must, for certainly no one else can! Anyhow, I¡¯m not going to lie here and cry about it. We will figure out what to do because we have to.¡±

    I rose. In the dim and rather stuffy little room, a cloth-covered screen folded out to divide the space into two halves. Vai¡¯s younger sister had slept on the other side of the screen, but she had recently married a local man and moved into his family¡¯s compound. Two wooden chests held Vai¡¯s clothes and other necessaries. His carpentry tools resided in a smaller chest he had built specially to house them. A covered basket held my few possessions, for I had arrived in Expedition with nothing except the clothes on my back, my sword, and my locket. Through the open window floated the sounds of the household waking from their afternoon naps.

    A length of brightly printed fabric that depicted green fans was draped over the screen. Tied around my hips, it made a skirt. I pulled a short gauzy blouse over my bodice.

    Bee surveyed me critically. ¡°That looks very well on you, Cat. The style would not flatter my figure.¡± She fluffed out her curly hair to get the worst snarls out. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t the fastest way to pursue Vai be to enter the spirit world here and follow your sire to Europa through the spirit world?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been warned off trying to enter the spirit world here in the Antilles. The Taino spirits don¡¯t like me. They will do everything they can to stop me entering their territory. Anyway, getting Vai back does not solve our greater problem, does it? The Hunt will still ride every year on Hallows¡¯ Night. It will still hunt down powerful cold mages and innocent dream walkers. Nor will rescuing Vai stop my sire from binding me whenever he wishes.¡±

    With a frown like the cut of a blade, Bee crossed to the window and set her hands on the sill. ¡°It¡¯s true. I can hide from the Wild Hunt in a troll maze, but you can¡¯t. And it isn¡¯t just about you and me and Andevai. What about other women who walk the dreams of dragons, the ones who don¡¯t know that the mirrors of a troll maze will conceal them from the Hunt? I hate to think of what will happen to them when next the Wild Hunt rides. They should be safe, too. Everyone should be safe.¡±

    ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t see why anyone should have to fear the Wild Hunt just because the spirit courts of Europa demand a sacrifice of mortal blood every year. It¡¯s wrong for any person to be torn to pieces and have their head ripped off and thrown down a well.¡± I looked away so Bee would not see my expression, for that was exactly what had happened to Queen Anacaona on Hallows¡¯ Night. To speak of how Bee¡¯s new husband, Prince Caonabo, had walked in my dream with his threats seemed cruel because it would upset her dreadfully, so I said nothing of it. Bee hadn¡¯t been on the ballcourt when the Wild Hunt had descended on the wings of a hurricane, but the prince had seen it all.

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    Bee did not notice my guarded expression or my pause. She was gazing down on the courtyard, watching the family making ready for the customers who would arrive at dusk to eat Aunty Djeneba¡¯s justly famous cooking and to drink the beer and spirits served by Aunty¡¯s brother-in-law, Uncle Joe.

    ¡°No one should have to live at the mercy of another¡¯s cruel whim,¡± she said. ¡°That is the same whether it is the Wild Hunt, or the unjust laws and arbitrary power wielded by princes and mages. It is the toil and sweat and blood of humble folk that feed those who rule us, is it not?¡±

    Her fierce expression made me smile. ¡°A radical sentiment, Bee! And so cogently expressed!¡±

    She tried to smile but sighed instead. ¡°I can¡¯t laugh about it. We are caught in an ancient struggle.¡±

    I recalled words spoken to me weeks ago. ¡° ¡®At the heart of all lie the vast energies which are the animating spirit of the worlds. The worlds incline toward disorder. Cold battles with heat.¡¯ Is that what you mean?¡±

    ¡°You are poetic today, Cat. I mean the struggle between those who rule unjustly merely because they have claimed the privilege to do so, and those who seek freedom to rule themselves.¡±

    I studied her from across the room. With only one window for light, the details of her face were obscured, as the future is obscured to every person except the women who walk the dreams of dragons and thus may glimpse snatches of what will come. Over the last two years, since long before she admitted the truth to me, Bee had been having dreams of such clarity and intensity that she felt obliged, upon waking, to sketch the most vivid moments from those dreams. As the months passed, she had discovered that the scenes in these sketches were visions of future meetings.

    Naturally, all manner of powerful people wanted to control her gift of dreaming. The mansa of Four Moons House had sent Andevai to claim her for the mage House, but Vai had mistakenly married me instead. General Camjiata had tried to seduce Bee to his cause so he could use her visions to give him an advantage in war, and in a way he had succeeded, for he was the one who had brokered the marriage between Bee and Prince Caonabo; the alliance gave him Taino support for the war he wanted to fight in Europa. Queen Anacaona had wanted her son to become cacique when her brother died, and an alliance with a dragon dreamer like Bee gave Caonabo a prestige other claimants did not possess. But now, the tilt of Bee¡¯s head and the tone of her voice worried me. I did not like to think she had sacrificed her happiness believing she had to do it to make us both safe.

    ¡°Bee, you told me all about your wedding adventure, but you never really said if you are truly happy, married to Prince Caonabo.¡±

    By the way her chin tucked down, I guessed she was blushing. ¡°I do like him. He is levelheaded and thoughtful. I find him interesting to talk to, and he is not at all taken aback that I am knowledgeable about such topics as astronomy or the mechanics of airship design, not as some men are. I must admit, I rather enjoy being a Taino noblewoman, even if my consequence is borrowed. From what I have seen, the Taino court governs in a just manner. But everything that has happened to us, even my marriage, has made me think so much more about what we used to take for granted, the things we thought were inevitable and proper.¡± She leaned out the window and glanced at the sky, then withdrew, looking alarmed. ¡°I must go! I didn¡¯t realize we had slept for so long. Usually I dream. How strange that I didn¡¯t dream at all.¡±

    ¡°Why are you in such a hurry?¡±

    She laced up her sandals and straightened her spotlessly white linen draperies. ¡°Caonabo has diplomatic meetings today with the provisional Assembly here in Expedition. He means to hammer out a new treaty with the new government before we journey to the Taino court in Sharagua. He wants matters with Expedition Territory settled before he presents himself to the Taino court as the rightful cacique.¡± She slipped on enough gold jewelry to purchase a grand house and compound. ¡°I am obliged to be at the palace on the border of Expedition Territory when he returns, to greet him with the proper ceremony.¡±

    ¡°Are you?¡± I asked, then thought better of teasing her about this unexpected display of wifely compliance because she grabbed my hands and squeezed them so tightly I feared my fingers would be crushed.

    ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll stay out of trouble until tomorrow, Cat. When I come back, we will figure out how to get you to Europa.¡±

    ¡°Of course I¡¯ll stay out of trouble! When do I ever deliberately court trouble, I should like to ask?¡±

    ¡°When do you not court trouble, you should be asking!¡± Bee snatched her sketchbook from the side table and stuffed it into the knit bag she carried so she could keep it and her pencils next to her at all times. ¡°I am not the one who goes about punching sharks or speaking my mind so caustically to arrogant cold mages that they fall in love with me. Come along.¡±

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    When Bee set her mind to drag a person along with her to wherever she was set to go, it was impossible to resist, nor did I try. Hand in hand, we descended the stairs to the courtyard. The boardinghouse had a wall and gate that separated it from the street, while the living quarters were laid out in a square whose center was a courtyard. Because it was hot year-round in the Antilles, most of the daily life went on in the spacious courtyard. A wide trellis and a canvas awning covered the benches and tables where customers drank and ate and gossiped, but right now, with the heat of the afternoon ebbing, the courtyard was empty except for Uncle Joe and the lads setting up benches and trays while Aunty Djeneba and her granddaughters cooked in the outdoor kitchen.

    They were not one bit overawed by Bee¡¯s borrowed consequence as she made respectful goodbyes to the women and charming farewells to the menfolk. Outside the gate, Taino attendants handed her into the carriage that had waited there half the day while she visited me. We embraced and kissed, after which she promised ten times to return in the morning.

    ¡°Bee, don¡¯t fret. How much trouble can I get into overnight?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what worries me.¡± She squeezed my hands so tightly that I gritted my teeth rather than wince. ¡°Dearest, promise me you¡¯ll do nothing rash.¡±

    ¡°Ouch! I¡¯ll promise whatever you wish, only you¡¯re crushing my fingers again!¡±

    She released me at last. I waved as she drove off down the cobblestone street through the quiet neighborhood where lived people whose labor built and sustained the city of Expedition.

    The moment I went back inside, one of the lads handed me a broom. I swept between the benches and tables as had been my habit in the weeks I had lived and worked here, for I had come to enjoy the household¡¯s routine. When I finished, I went to the shaded outdoor kitchen.

    ¡°Aunty,¡± I said to Djeneba as she prepared a big pot of rice and peas, ¡°I don¡¯t see Rory and Luce. Did they go to the batey game?¡±

    A wry smile creased her lined face. ¡°So they did, Cat. By that frown, I reckon yee¡¯s not so glad to see Luce walking out with yee brother.¡±

    My frown deepened. ¡°I am not! He¡¯s no better than a tomcat. A pleasant, kind, charming, and well-mannered tomcat, but no better regardless.¡±

    ¡°Luce is sixteen now. Old enough to choose for she own self.¡± She handed me a wooden spoon and directed me to stir the pot as she added more salt and pepper. ¡°Is yee determined to wait tables tonight? Yee don¡¯ have to work if yee¡¯ve no mind to do it.¡±

    The pot simmered, a luscious flavor wafting up. I licked my lips as I wielded the spoon. ¡°Aunty, you know I can¡¯t sit quietly. Waiting tables will keep my mind off Vai.¡±

    ¡°It surely did before.¡± Aunty¡¯s laugh coaxed a reluctant smile to my lips as I remembered the clever way he had won me over by bringing me delicious fruit to eat and confiding in me about his embrace of radical principles. ¡°Yee never could seem to make up yee mind about Vai. Yee pushed him back with one hand and pulled him close with the other. What settled yee?¡±

    ¡°Really, Aunty, did you think he would give up before he got what he wanted?¡±

    ¡°Yee¡¯s a stubborn gal, Cat. I had me doubts.¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have had. I think I was always a little infatuated with him, even back when I disliked him for his high-handed ways. The Blessed Tanit knows he¡¯s handsome enough to overwhelm the most heartless gal.¡±

    ¡°Good manners and a steady heart matter more than looks, although he have all three in plenty. Still, I reckon yee have the right of it. ¡¯Tis no easy task for a gal to say no to a lad as fine as he. Especially after the patient way he courted yee.¡± She took the spoon. ¡°Yee get that man back.¡±

    ¡°I will get him back, I promise you, Aunty.¡± I did not add that I had no idea how I was going to manage it. ¡°Bee will help me. We¡¯re going to make our plans tomorrow.¡±

    The thought of him trapped in my sire¡¯s claws made me burn. Yet not even worrying could dampen my appetite. I ate two bowls of Aunty¡¯s excellent rice and peas, by which time the first customers had begun to arrive. They greeted me with genuine pleasure, for even though I was a maku¡ªa foreigner¡ªin Expedition, folk here did appreciate my willingness to speak my mind. Better yet, they laughed at my jokes. The easy way people conversed pleased me, and no one thought it at all remarkable that a young woman had opinions about the great matters of the day.

    ¡°I certainly hope the new Assembly will not allow the Taino representatives to bully them on this matter of a new treaty,¡± I said to a table of elderly regulars.

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    ¡°Hard not to feel bullied when a fleet of Taino airships sit on the border chaperoned by an army of soldiers who have already marched once through Expedition¡¯s streets,¡± said Uncle Joe from the bar. ¡°Peradventure without yee intervention on Hallows¡¯ Night, Cat, we in Expedition would have had to bow before a Taino governor instead of setting up this new Assembly. If yee had not done what report say yee did do.¡±

    I dodged past the lad who with pole and ladder was lighting the courtyard¡¯s gas lamps. With a shake of my head, I set a tray of empty mugs on the bar as I made a grimace at Uncle Joe. After the dream I had just had, I did not want anyone to begin reflecting on the part I had played in halting the Taino invasion of Expedition Territory. He nodded to show he understood, then turned to draw a pitcher of ale from a barrel to refill the mugs.

    Between one breath and the next, the lively rattle of conversation ceased. The courtyard fell silent. I had my back to the gate. As Uncle Joe turned with the full pitcher, glancing past me, his gaze widened. He reached under the counter and set his machete next to my tray.

    He had done the same in my dream, only my sword was looped to a cord around my hips. The blade of his machete caught a glimmer of gaslight that carved a shimmering line along its length.

    I swung around.

    Prince Caonabo stood in the open gate, surrounded by attendants and soldiers.

    Just as he had in my dream.

    2

    All eyes¡ªand it was crowded tonight¡ªshifted from the newcomers to me, and back to the prince¡¯s retinue. Aunty Djeneba had been cooking cassava bread on a griddle in the open-air kitchen. She stepped back from the hearth to examine the interlopers. As the thin bread began to crisp, I could not rip my gaze from its blackening edges. The smell of its burning seemed to come right out of the dream I¡¯d had, the way fire had caught in my flesh. Had Prince Caonabo come to kill me?

    Was this what it meant to walk the dreams of dragons? Had I dreamed the dream meant for Bee because we were holding hands as we napped and her dreams had bled into mine? Or had I simply been waiting for this meeting, knowing the Taino would not let the death of their queen pass without a response?

    Aunty realized the bread was burning, flipped the flat round onto the dirt, and gestured for one of her granddaughters to take over. After wiping her hands on her apron, she walked to the gate. She looked majestic with her hair covered in a vividly orange head wrap. Her height, stout build, and confident manner made her a formidable presence.

    ¡°Prince Caonabo,¡± she said, not that she had ever met him before, but there could only be one Taino prince in the city of Expedition. ¡°To see one such as yee here at me gate is truly unexpected.¡±

    One of the prince¡¯s attendants answered in his stead, for like any lofty nobleman, Caonabo did not need to speak for himself. ¡°His Good Highness has come to this establishment to find a witch.¡±

    Most of our customers looked at me. I dressed in the local style so as not to draw attention to myself, but the days when I could hope to be just another maku girl making a living after being washed ashore in Expedition were irrevocably over.

    Aunty stiffened. ¡°We shelter no witch in me respectable house, nor have we ever, I shall thank yee to know. Nor need we answer to the prince, however good and high as he may be. Expedition remain a free territory. Yee Taino don¡¯ rule us.¡±

    The attendant blew a sharp whistle. Taino soldiers swarmed into the courtyard from the street, rifles and ceremonial spears at the ready, but the prince raised a hand to forestall any action.

    ¡°This afternoon I have spoken to the provisional Assembly,¡± the prince said with the precision of an intelligent man who has learned through countless hours of intense study to speak a language foreign to him. ¡°We have completed our discussions and renewed the treaty between the Taino kingdom and Expedition Territory. One matter remains before I can leave Expedition.¡±

    ¡°What matter might that be, that yee trouble us while we partake of food and drink?¡±

    Aunty still held the paddle she used on the cassava bread, and she had the stance of a woman ready to smack him with it right on his proud, highborn face if he didn¡¯t give her a polite answer.

    His attendants looked comically startled that a common Expeditioner would speak to a noble prince in such a bold and disrespectful manner, but Prince Caonabo himself appeared neither offended nor taken aback. He seemed like a man who knew his place in the world but didn¡¯t need you to know it because it didn¡¯t matter if you did. And it didn¡¯t matter. In this part of the world, in the Sea of Antilles, he was among the most powerful men alive.

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    ¡°Catherine Bell Barahal has been accused in the council hall of Expedition of being responsible for the death of the honorable and most wise cacica, what you call a queen, she with the name Anacaona. As Queen Anacaona¡¯s only surviving son, and as heir to her brother, the cacique, I am required to pursue justice in this matter.¡±

    Because it would be cowardly not to acknowledge him, I met his gaze with my own.

    ¡°I would like to know who made that accusation,¡± I said.

    ¡°I made the accusation.¡±

    Customers got up and, with awkward goodbyes, hurried out the gate.

    Uncle Joe muttered under his breath, ¡°Cat, step back here behind the counter. Then yee can make a run out the back.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I whispered. ¡°I¡¯ll bring no trouble down on you after everything you¡¯ve done for me. But please send one of the lads out to make sure Rory does not come back here until the prince is gone. Send him to Kofi¡¯s house.¡±

    I took in a breath to fortify myself, grabbed a dram of rum, caught Uncle Joe¡¯s warning gesture, and set down the rum without drinking. I drained a cup of guava juice instead, for my mouth had gone quite dry. Then I walked to the gate to face my accuser.

    ¡°Salve, Your Highness,¡± I said respectfully. I wasn¡¯t sure what to make of Prince Caonabo. Despite his accusation, he did not glare at me in a hostile way. Instead, he acknowledged me with a lift of the hand.

    ¡°Salve, Perdita,¡± he answered, calling me lost woman. That was the name I had been given on the day three months ago when he and other fire mages had discovered me washed up and half-drowned on the shore of Salt Island, a quarantine island I should never have set foot on and hoped never to see again. ¡°You recovered your sword.¡±

    ¡°So I did.¡± To all other eyes, my sword appeared as a black cane, but fire mages and the feathered people we called trolls saw it for what it was: a blade of magically forged steel. At night I could draw the blade out of the spirit world, but during the day it was just a cane unless woken by cold magic. ¡°Your Highness, Expedition is a free territory. It is not ruled by the Taino, nor by Taino law.¡±

    ¡°Expedition Territory exists as a free territory within the Taino kingdom only because the captains of the first fleet that arrived here from Africa and Europa sealed a treaty with my ancestors. One of the conditions written into the First Treaty was the establishment of quarantine islands against the diseases brought across the ocean. Another condition was the right of accusation. Should a person residing in Expedition Territory commit a criminal act against any Taino, the Taino have the right to demand justice. As the accuser, I am allowed to take you into my custody and deliver you to Expedition¡¯s Council Hall. There you will be taken before a standing inquiry on the charge of murder.¡±

    Around us the courtyard lay still and silent. A sound of lively laughter and talk drifted from nearby households. Resonant drumming pulsed from farther afield, signaling a victory dance at the local ballcourt for the batey match that had been completed with the dusk. Three days ago there could have been no batey match, no dance, no drumming, for the entire city had been under occupation by the Taino army.

    I lifted my chin. ¡°Queen Anacaona led an invasion of Expedition. An invasion is an act of war.¡±

    ¡°The honored cacica¡¯s action was not an act of war. Disease hit our people hard when the maku first came across the ocean from the east. Other nations suffered worse than ours because our behiques were wise enough to place a fence of quarantine around our islands. So you see, the First Treaty explicitly gives the Taino the legal right to act if any quarantine is broken. As you broke it, by escaping from Salt Island.¡±

    ¡°What if I refuse to come with you?¡± I asked.

    He had the look of a man accustomed to gazing at the stars as he attempts to fathom heavenly secrets. He did not look like an enraged kinsman trying to determine if a perfectly well-brought-up and inoffensive young woman has been party to a murder. ¡°I seek justice, not revenge, Maestra Barahal. Duty binds me. I honor my mother as a dutiful son must. Even so, I offer you the protection of the law. If you do not come with me, I cannot answer for what might happen, for it has come to my attention that you have enemies who wish you ill and might use your refusal as an excuse to act against you.¡±

    ¡°Who would those enemies be?¡±

    He raised a hand, palm up. A tiny flame rose from the center of his palm. A glow brushed along the skin of the prince¡¯s two attendants. Both were acting as catch-fires for his fire magic. The greatest danger to a fire mage was that the backlash of power would consume her, as fire consumes any combustible substance. In Europa there were no catch-fires. Fire mages either became blacksmiths and were inducted into the mysteries of that extended clan, or they died young in sudden and horrible conflagrations. The Taino had learned to protect fire mages with catch-fires.

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    ¡°I think you know who they are,¡± he replied. ¡°Fire in the wrong hands is a reckless weapon that destroys. In the hands of responsible people, fire heals. It can also offer a means to restrain the hearts of malevolent persons who disrupt the harmonious balance of society. The punishment for murder is that you lose the privilege to walk freely in a peaceful society and must serve it instead. That is why murderers are required to work in the cane fields, or to become catch-fires.¡±

    A shiver of doubt crept its icy fingers down my spine. I felt it wisest to say nothing.

    The prince curled his hand into a fist, dousing the flame. ¡°Catherine Bell Barahal, upon my authority as heir to the Taino kingdom, and with the permission of the provisional Assembly that rules Expedition Territory, I place you under arrest for the murder of the cacica, Anacaona.¡±

    I found a bland smile in my store of weapons, and I brandished it. ¡°I¡¯ll go quietly with you, Prince Caonabo, under this condition. Promise on your honor as prince and future cacique of the Taino that you, and any and all of your court and subjects and hirelings, will not harm, persecute, or arrest any person living in this household now or ever. The people living here must never face retaliation for having sheltered me.¡±

    He gave my words thoughtful consideration. ¡°On the honor of my ancestors and on the honor of my own person, I give my word that I and all those who are subject to my authority will not now or ever harm, persecute, or arrest any person living in this household.¡±

    ¡°Give me a moment, if you please.¡±

    I walked over to the kitchen shelter. Aunty had already sent the children into one of the rooms to get them out of the way.

    ¡°Aunty, can you quickly put together a satchel of food for me? My skirt and jacket, from my room. And the cloth sleeve for my cane.¡±

    Aunty called over her daughter Brenna and gave her instructions, then took hold of my arm. ¡°Do the prince mean to see yee brought to trial even though he is married to yee own cousin?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what to think. Please let Bee and Rory know what¡¯s happened.¡±

    Uncle Joe stepped in under the kitchen roof. His glare was enough to make my eyes water, since I knew he was upset because he cared for me. ¡°Cat, what arseness is this yee¡¯s playing at? I reckon the new Assembly ought better protect a gal who cut off the head of the Taino invasion.¡±

    ¡°Do the Taino have the legal right to invade, according to the terms of the First Treaty? Because of the broken quarantine?¡±

    ¡°Lawyers might say so. That was a long time ago.¡±

    ¡°That it was a long time ago doesn¡¯t change the law. I¡¯ve extracted a promise from the prince that he will never harass or harm anyone who lives here.¡±

    Uncle Joe¡¯s grip was hard, and yet because it was so, I felt heartened. ¡°Don¡¯ forget, gal, that in the eyes of many folk here in Expedition, ¡¯twas the death of the cacica that freed us from the old Council¡¯s unjust rule. When she died and the Taino had to withdraw, that was when the Assemblymen had a chance to overthrow the Council and change the government of Expedition.¡±

    ¡°Yee shall find people aplenty in Expedition these days who shall fight to keep yee safe, gal,¡± said Aunty. ¡°Don¡¯ think otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Believe me, I won¡¯t let them kill me.¡±

    Uncle frowned. ¡°The Taino rule the Sea of Antilles. Don¡¯ make the mistake of thinking them weak. Their behiques is the most powerful of all. I reckon yee don¡¯ truly understand how far the power of Taino fire mages can reach.¡±

    ¡°I have my own secrets. Anyway, I can¡¯t die, for if I did, then who would rescue Vai?¡± Overwhelmed by longing for the home I had so unexpectedly found at the boardinghouse, I kissed her smooth cheek and his rough one. ¡°But I don¡¯t know what will happen after.¡±

    Uncle Joe sighed. ¡°I shall fetch yee some provision.¡± He went back to the counter and returned with two flasks, one filled with ginger beer and one with rum.

    Aunty looked through the satchel prepared for me with flat rounds of cassava bread, unpeeled guava, jerked chicken, and a gourd filled with rice and peas. ¡°Come back to us if yee can.¡±

    I slid my ghost-sword into a sleeve of cloth to hide it from trolls and fire mages, made my farewells, and joined the prince at the gate.

    Caonabo indicated a low-slung carriage waiting on the street. I climbed to the back bench seat, which was shaded by a hood but open to the air. Prince Caonabo sat on the facing seat.

    The carriage rolled down a street illuminated by gaslight. Hooves clopped on cobblestones.

 Page 8

    ¡°We Taino did not have horses before the fleet from the Empire of Mali came. They are useful animals, beautiful in form and intriguing in their behavior. Do you not think so, Perdita?¡±

    Two could play that game of batey! ¡°I¡¯ve not had the opportunity to study the habits of horses. We did not own any at the house where Beatrice and I grew up as devoted as sisters.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Beatrice.¡± His expression shaded into a grave smile. ¡°I wondered how soon you would mention her. As you already know, Perdita, when General Camjiata came to Sharagua, he offered Queen Anacaona a trade. In exchange for Taino gold, soldiers, and weapons for his Europan war, he would give her son and heir for bride a young woman who walks the dreams of dragons. Such a woman is precious beyond jewels, for she can see the meeting places and crossing points of the future. With such a bride, my claim to the duho¡ªthe seat of power¡ªwould be strengthened. Naturally, my mother accepted on my behalf.¡±

    ¡°Bee won¡¯t stand by and let me be condemned. She¡¯ll never forgive you if I die.¡±

    He sat back against the upholstered seat. ¡°Yet if I am to be accepted as the next cacique, I must see the cacica¡¯s murderer brought to justice. Since it was my honored mother¡¯s wish that I succeed her brother as ruler of all the Taino, you may comprehend my dilemma.¡±

    ¡°I think you should just let me go, Prince Caonabo. My hand did not kill your mother.¡±

    ¡°You speak as do the feathered people, disguising your meaning beneath words that hide the truth. I was there the night it happened, on what you call Hallows¡¯ Night, on the ballcourt. I saw a saber-toothed cat break my mother¡¯s neck. I saw a swarm of creatures with teeth and claws rip my mother apart. I saw a hunting hound run off into the night carrying my mother¡¯s head in its jaws. So pray excuse me if I neglect the usual polite talk and cut to the heart.¡±

    ¡°Truly, Your Highness, I think we have passed the point where we need concern ourselves with polite words.¡±

    His gaze was steady, not angry. ¡°I heard what you said to the maku spirit lord that night. You addressed him as ¡®Father.¡¯ You said, ¡®Are you going to let that fire weaver destroy me? I guess you can¡¯t stop her.¡¯ Do you not think those are strange and careless words with which to ask for the death of another person? Because I do.¡±

    The cavalcade reached the boulevard that fronted the sea, a long stone-built jetty. Waves sighed against rocks and piers; it was a gentle evening, with a gentle wind and a gentle swell. A wagon drawn by a dwarf mammoth trundling along the boulevard caught the prince¡¯s attention. When his gaze flickered that way, it was all the distraction I needed.

    Born to a human mother, I had been sired by a creature of the spirit world. That meant I could reach into the interstices that wove together the mortal world and the spirit world and draw those threads around me to hide my body from mortal eyes. With satchel and cloth-covered cane clutched against me, I wrapped myself in shadow. A bounce on the forward seat gave the impression I had leaped out of the carriage.

    Prince Caonabo¡¯s attendants shouted in alarm. I held my breath and rode the jolt as the driver hauled the horses to a halt. Soldiers scattered to search for me. The prince passed a hand over his face. For no more than a breath, he smiled as if my audacity reminded him of something that amused him greatly. Then a captain ran up, and Caonabo¡¯s expression settled back into cool reserve. He beckoned to the soldier. As the captain mounted into the carriage, rocking it, I stepped off.

    The shouts of the soldiers covered the thump I made on landing. I dodged away and caught my breath under a hissing gas streetlamp, in full sight but entirely veiled by my shadows. Carters and wagoners on their way home pulled aside. One old carter lit a cigarillo nervously, puffing smoke. Young toughs swaggered into view, as if hoping the Taino would push them into a fight. A young woman with a baby strapped to her back grabbed a ripe papaya out of the basket she was carrying and cocked her arm to fling it at the prince, but an older woman grabbed her elbow to stop her.

    A whistle shrilled. As the Taino soldiers resumed formation, I crept away down a side street.

    3

    The victory drums heard from a distant ballcourt ceased as I hurried down dim streets too unimportant to warrant street lighting. The smoke of cook fires coated the air. Merchants and artisans were closing up shop. The last transport wagons and carts shared the roadways with people making their leisurely way home from work, the market, or the batey game. No volley of shots disturbed the night, so presumably the prince had moved on before trouble started.

    Still hidden, I crept into the compound belonging to the household of my husband¡¯s trusted friend, Kofi. Vai¡¯s sister Kayleigh was busy in the big open-air kitchen, laughing with other young women as they helped with the cooking, supervised by Kofi¡¯s mother and aunts. Wheels scraped behind me. I stepped out of the way as the household menfolk entered, pushing empty carts. Kofi was at the end of the line, a tall, broad-shouldered young man with scarred cheeks and his shoulder-length black hair in locks. Falling in beside him, I tweaked the hem of the sleeveless singlet he wore.

 Page 9

    ¡°Kofi, it¡¯s Cat,¡± I whispered. ¡°I¡¯m in trouble. Meet me in the back.¡±

    He startled, eyes going wide, but without a word he helped the other men sweep out the carts and store them for the night. Then he grabbed a lantern and beckoned to Kayleigh. She looked surprised but excused herself to his mother. I walked behind them as they made their way to the back courtyard and entered a shed for broken axles and wheels not yet repaired.

    When I unwrapped the shadows, Kofi jumped back in alarm. Kayleigh chuckled. My secret ways did not trouble her, for she had grown up in a hunters¡¯ village and with a grandmother who was a wise woman with strong magic.

    He frowned, glancing at Kayleigh as his shoulders tensed. ¡°I tell yee, Cat, yee shall not ever do that in front of any but them who know yee well. It don¡¯ seem natural.¡±

    ¡°My apologies.¡± I kissed Kayleigh on the cheek and Kofi likewise. ¡°I¡¯ve been accused of the murder of Queen Anacaona by Prince Caonabo. He came to the boardinghouse and arrested me himself. Once we were away from Aunty¡¯s, I fled.¡±

    ¡°Whsst!¡± Kofi rubbed his forehead. ¡°Now yee¡¯s a fugitive, Cat. It make yee look guilty of the crime.¡±

    ¡°How can I be sure the Assembly won¡¯t hand me over to the Taino?¡±

    Kofi rested a big hand on my shoulder. ¡°Cat, every Expeditioner shall call the cacica¡¯s death an act of war, and yee a soldier fighting against the Taino in defense of Expedition.¡±

    ¡°That will scarcely help me if I¡¯m brought to trial and everyone believes I killed her!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯ have the authority to let yee seek refuge here. I must ask permission of the elders of the house.¡± He shifted broken wheels off an overturned wagon bed so we could sit. ¡°Wait here.¡±

    As he stepped outside, I said, ¡°I told Uncle Joe to send Rory here. I don¡¯t want the Taino to take him into custody. Because he¡¯s the one who killed the cacica.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯ see it that way.¡± The lamplight made his scars shine, a reminder that he had endured torture in the cells of Expedition¡¯s Warden Hall for being a radical and revolutionary agitator. Few things intimidated him now. ¡°¡¯Tis true yee made the suggestion and yee brother struck the blow, but ¡¯twas the maku spirit lord, the one yee call master and sire, who had the power to command it done. Seem to me the spirit lord is therefore the killer.¡±

    He walked off, taking the lamp to light his way. In the darkness, Kayleigh took my hand. She was a sturdy, big-boned young woman, not more than seventeen, who looked like her older brother if not nearly as striking. We had not always gotten along, but I was very glad to have her next to me tonight. ¡°What do you mean to do, Cat?¡±

    ¡°I have to get to Europa. I just have to figure out how to get there, for I¡¯ve no money for a berth on a ship taking passage over the Atlantic. I¡¯ve already been warned off trying to walk into the spirit world here in the islands. An opia came to me looking just like Vai.¡±

    She snickered. ¡°That must have startled you.¡±

    Heat burned in my cheeks, for I had kissed the opia quite passionately before I realized he was the spirit of a dead ancestor, wearing Vai¡¯s face. Being dead, opia could wear any face they wished. ¡°Yes, it was quite disconcerting. He¡¯s the one who explained why the Taino spirits are so angry at me.¡±

    ¡°Why is that? For it seems to me that here in the Antilles, living people and their dead ancestors are not often hostile toward each other. But perhaps the spirit people here wish to protect the spirit lords of Europa, who might be in some manner their cousins.¡±

    ¡°Quite the contrary. Long ago, Taino fire mages wove a protective spirit fence around their islands to keep out the Wild Hunt and any other spirit visitors from other parts of the spirit world.¡±

    Kayleigh nodded. This casual talk of the spirit world seemed perfectly normal to her. ¡°I suppose that spirit lords protect their territory just like princes and mages do in the mortal world.¡±

    ¡°So it seems. Anyway, I was able to cut a gate in the spirit fence. The Wild Hunt rode through the gap I made. My sire would never have been able to reach the cacica if not for me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not as if you did it on purpose! You were just trying to save your cousin¡¯s life, for it was her the Wild Hunt wanted to kill.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but the cacica died regardless.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll need to sail to Europa, then. If we can¡¯t get the bank to open Vai¡¯s account to you, you shall have the money Vai settled on me when I married.¡±

 Page 10

    ¡°I can¡¯t take your dowry.¡±

    ¡°Of course you can! It¡¯s mine to give, because Vai settled the funds on me according to Expedition law, which follows Taino law in giving women title to households and the family purse. Which do you think I would rather have? The money, or my brother? You have to go to Europa. The hunters of our village can help you rescue Vai out of the spirit world. Shh!¡±

    Lantern light shimmered, illuminating carts lined up against the back wall: The family¡¯s business was local transport. Kofi shepherded his mother, his aunts, and the eldest men into the dusty shed. I received their blessing, which they gave by each one touching a hand to my hair. His mother offered me a cup of juice. After hearing my tale, they agreed that I might stay for one night. As for my brother, however, they were not so sure, for they had never met him and wished to know more about his character and manners.

    One of Kofi¡¯s brothers appeared, escorting Rory and Lucretia. I smiled to see them safe, until I noticed the inappropriately intimate manner in which their fingers were intertwined.

    ¡°Rory,¡± I murmured, ¡°did I not tell you to stay away from her?¡±

    Rory released Luce¡¯s hand. He sauntered right past me to greet the older women, his smile as bright as the lanterns. With his lithe young man¡¯s body well clad in one of Vai¡¯s fashionable dash jackets and his long black hair pulled back in a braid, he surely delighted the eye. The men watched in astonishment but I knew what was coming. He offered chastely generous kisses to the women¡¯s cheeks and tender pats to their work-worn hands.

    ¡°My apologies. I mean no offense by charging into your territory without an invitation. But I must obey my sister. You understand how it is with a sister who speaks a bit sharply to one even though she is the younger and ought, I should suppose, to look up to her older brother. Please, let me thank you. Your hospitality honors and humbles me. The food smells so good. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve never smelled better.¡± He had routed two already and turned to the remaining skeptic. ¡°That fabric is beautifully dyed, and looks very well with your complexion, Aunty.¡±

    A cavalry charge at close quarters could not have demolished their resistance more devastatingly. He turned his charm on the old men, drawing them out with irresistible questions about their proud and memorable youth.

    I went over to Luce, grasping her wrist. ¡°Luce. He¡¯s a tomcat.¡±

    She lifted her chin. Because I treated Luce as a little sister, I often forgot that, at sixteen, she was old enough to marry. ¡°I know me own mind, Cat! I¡¯s old enough to do as I wish.¡±

    ¡°Be sure that he makes a habit of charming women of all ages and dispositions. And men, too.¡± I glanced over my shoulder. Rory was now seated between two of the women, chatting easily with all six of the elders about how things had been different in the old days. His easy lounging grace made the overturned wagon bed seem like the most gracious reception hall couch.

    ¡°He cannot help what he is!¡± Luce¡¯s gaze flashed at me from beneath lowered lashes.

    ¡°True words,¡± I agreed. ¡°You¡¯re blushing. I want you to go home, Luce.¡± She drew in breath for a retort. ¡°I need your help! Go home and get everything ready. Vai¡¯s tool chest. His clothes chests neatly packed, all my things put in. In the morning fetch the winter coats I¡¯m having made on Tailors¡¯ Row.¡± I glanced up at Kofi, who had come over to stand beside me. ¡°We might have to leave in a hurry.¡±

    ¡°So yee might,¡± he agreed. ¡°I shall be going out to speak to the president of the Assembly and some other folk about the situation.¡± He pinched Luce¡¯s cheek with the familiarity of an older brother. ¡°That man is trouble, gal. Mind me words.¡±

    ¡°Sweet trouble,¡± retorted Luce. ¡°I¡¯s no fool.¡±

    ¡°I doubt me that,¡± retorted Kofi in the tone of a man who has seen a girl grow up from a toddling scamp. ¡°Do as Cat ask. Don¡¯ forget to pack Vai¡¯s mirror and razor. And extra soap.¡±

    ¡°I know Vai is vain but surely that is a bit much,¡± I said.

    Luce giggled. ¡°I never knew a man could spend so much time in front of a mirror.¡±

    Kofi frowned reprovingly at us. ¡°¡¯Tisn¡¯t only vanity. ¡¯Tis a shield.¡±

    I exchanged a mirthful glance with Luce, but something in Kofi¡¯s expression killed any desire I had to laugh. ¡°Wearing fashionable clothes is a shield? From what?¡±

    ¡°Gal, in some ways I reckon yee understand that man well enough, but in another wise yee don¡¯ really understand him at all.¡±

 Page 11

    Indignation spiked right up into my head, but then I realized Kofi was showing me respect by speaking so plainly. ¡°I suppose not. He was so awful to me when we first met that it took a long time for me to realize it wasn¡¯t me he disliked. That most of the things he did, he did to protect himself from the way the other mages treated him so contemptuously. I think he assumed I would treat him the same way. All right, then. Luce, don¡¯t neglect any items a man of Vai¡¯s high-strung temperament might need. I must say, you¡¯re a man of hidden depth, Kofi.¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°I know how to get a man talking. Vai was a man who was looking for a friend. I shall walk yee back to Aunty¡¯s on my way, Luce. And don¡¯ be sneaking back here tonight, for Cat and Rory must share a room.¡±

    As they made to go, Rory broke away from the elders to take his leave of Luce. He drew her into the shadows to whisper in her ear so softly that even I had trouble distinguishing words. Then she kissed him in a way that made me suspect the cursed tomcat had kissed her more than once at the batey match, despite my having told him not to do any such thing.

    I had no chance to scold him, for we were swept off to eat the evening meal with the entire family in attendance, some thirty people, including elders, adult cousins, all the children, more distant relations who lived and worked in the household, and two lads up from the country to work until they had earned enough to go home and marry.

    ¡°Now what do we do, Cat?¡± Rory asked later when we had retired to a tiny room and its two cots. As I hung a lit lantern from a hook, he dragged a cot over against mine and sprawled out across both. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go on the ocean. It scares me.¡±

    ¡°Move over! You¡¯re hogging all the space.¡±

    ¡°I am not a hog!¡±

    ¡°Of course you¡¯re not a hog, Rory,¡± I said soothingly, before I pounced for the kill. ¡°But don¡¯t make me call you a lecherous seducer. Didn¡¯t I tell you not to touch Luce? She¡¯s too young and very innocent.¡±

    ¡°Not as innocent as you think she is!¡± He sat up, crossing his arms as he frowned. ¡°I am not like that unpleasant fire mage, James Drake. I would never pet any person without their full and willing consent¡ª¡±

    My throat tightened. ¡°How do you know about my relationship with James Drake?¡±

    ¡°I lived with General Camjiata and his staff for three days before you came to retrieve me. Remember?¡±

    ¡°Did James Drake say things to you? About me?¡±

    ¡°Goodness, Cat. Your skin is all blotchy.¡± He patted my flushed cheek. ¡°And warm!¡±

    ¡°I see what you¡¯re doing. You¡¯re changing the subject. Luce is too young for you.¡±

    ¡°Both you and Luce are old enough to breed.¡± He sniffed several times. ¡°You¡¯re not pregnant. In fact, you¡¯re fertile right now. It¡¯s very convenient for me that human women are only fertile part of the time. That makes it easy for me to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rory! This is not a subject you and I are going to discuss.¡±

    ¡°You started the discussion.¡± He ran a hand along his chin and lips like a cat about to start licking its paw in a self-congratulatory fashion. Yet just as quickly, his smirk faded. ¡°As your brother, I ought to warn you. James Drake is a dangerous man.¡±

    ¡°I can handle James Drake. It¡¯s our sire I¡¯m worried about. What are his weaknesses? How can I defeat him?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t defeat him. We¡¯re bound to him because we are his children.¡±

    A tap shifted the door. I grabbed the hilt of my sword.

    ¡°Cat?¡± It was Kofi.

    I let him in. Kofi¡¯s plain jacket and trousers in the practical Expedition style and his powerful build marked him as a hardworking laborer, but the crisp confidence in his tone revealed him as a successful radical, a member of the new provisional Assembly in Expedition.

    ¡°This is a rare commotion, Cat. Now that we Expeditioners have the chance to rule we own selves, we don¡¯ like to feel the Taino can tell us what to do. But yee running have made the situation worse. Yee shall have to sail immediately for Europa.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t money to pay for our passage.¡±

    ¡°So Kayleigh told me. Expedition owe yee a favor for saving us from the Taino invasion. I shall escort yee to West Quay at dawn. There yee shall board a Phoenician ship called the White Horse, bound for Gadir. The tide turn mid-morning. Then yee shall be out of reach.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± My legs gave way as an avalanche of relief crashed over me.

    ¡°Don¡¯ thank me. Commissioner Sanogo arranged it.¡± He sighed. ¡°I admit I had hoped yee and Vai might settle in Expedition. There is plenty for him to do here. And I reckon the wardens of Expedition should like to hire a gal with the peculiar talents yee possess.¡±

 Page 12

    ¡°I would like to try that sort of work.¡±

    ¡°Warden¡¯s work ¡¯twould suit yee, for I reckon yee¡¯s not suited for a quiet life.¡±

    ¡°I can live a quiet life!¡±

    Kofi laughed. ¡°Yee should last a month, no more, before yee got restless and found some trouble to get into. I reckon Vai love yee for it, and for the knack yee have of getting out of it. If anyone can fetch him back from the spirit world, yee¡¯s the one to do it.¡±

    We talked a little longer about the logistics of our departure. After Kofi left, Rory and I settled on the cots. I pinched out the wick but could not sleep for fretting about Bee.

    ¡°Are you trying not to cry?¡± Rory whispered.

    I sniffled. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to get into trouble before Bee came back tomorrow. What if I never see her again?¡±

    ¡°If it will help calm you, I can comb your hair, or lick your hands and face.¡±

    ¡°Lick my hands and face?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s very comforting, I¡¯ll have you know!¡±

    I managed a choked laugh. He tucked his back up against mine and began to sing the oddest crooning lullaby in words I could not understand. The melody wound like a nest around my heart, shielding me from the ills of the world.

    I slept heavily and woke before dawn, determined to succeed. Luce arrived with the chests. We walked in a trundle of carts through the predawn gloom toward the harbor. Rory pushed a cart among the other men. I walked in the center to be less conspicuous. Luce held my hand. The menfolk bantered in a half-awake, early-morning way. I could not rein in my thoughts, which galloped from the impossibility of rescuing Vai out of the jaws of the Master of the Wild Hunt to the pain of being sundered from my dearest Bee. It was easier not to think at all.

    West Quay was the farthest west of the wharves in the main harbor, mostly used by Phoenician ships, and notably marked by a pair of tall wooden posts the locals called Heracles¡¯s Pillars for the famous straits at the mouth of the Mediterranean Sea. On the opposite side of the jetty was an inn called Nance¡¯s, with a sprawling wooden deck flanked by buildings. The edifice had a grand view of the harbor and of the monumental arch that led into the walled confines of the old city. Almost two months ago, Vai and I had been separated here by an unexpected meeting.

    At tables along the railing, men ate with the concentration of sailors savoring their last good meal before shipping out. Barrels were lined up street-side next to the steps. A man leaned against a barrel with an open book in his hands. He met my questing gaze with a polite nod of greeting.

    ¡°Blessed Tanit!¡± I released Luce¡¯s hand. ¡°Rory, we¡¯ve got to run.¡±

    The leaning man closed the book with an audible snap. Kofi looked around with a curse. A piercing whistle cut through the hush of dawn. Rory dropped the handles of the cart he was pushing, and the entire line of carts came to a juddering halt. Taino soldiers trotted onto the jetty from where they had been hiding amid stacks of crates. The men who had been eating clattered down the stairs to fan out onto the jetty, brandishing the short swords known as falcatas that were famous as the preferred weapon of Iberian infantrymen. We were surrounded.

    The man with the book approached with a measured tread that drew all eyes. He had height and breadth, the look of a man who fought in wars once and means to do so again. Silver streaked his mane of wavy black hair. His face bore the stamp of his father¡¯s noble Malian ancestors in having brown skin and his mother¡¯s patrician Roman lineage in having a bold nose.

    My enemy, General Camjiata.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you, Cat,¡± he said with the friendly smile the victor can afford to give the vanquished. ¡°I admire your plan for a bold escape, and your ability to gather allies. But you¡¯re going to have to come to the Council Hall to address the charge of murder.¡±

    4

    ¡°Shall I eat him, Cat?¡± murmured Rory.

    ¡°Rory, don¡¯t move. They¡¯ll shoot you.¡± I faced the general. ¡°How did you find us?¡±

    ¡°You see, Cat, it isn¡¯t that you need to have the dragon dreamer at your side at all times,¡± said General Camjiata as he strolled up to me. ¡°She does not dream the day before of what will come to pass the next morning.¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t?¡± I asked, thinking of my dream.

    He took no notice because he was too enthralled by the sound of his own voice. ¡°Nor can she walk by purpose into a dream that will tell her what she wishes to know about a crossroads in her future. She may never even recognize what it is she has seen. What you need to make use of a dreamer¡¯s gift is a record of her dreams, so you can study this record until you see patterns emerge and weave the pieces together.¡±

 Page 13

    He opened the book.

    ¡°That¡¯s Bee¡¯s sketchbook!¡± I exclaimed. ¡°The one you stole from her!¡±

    The page was a jumble of images drawn in Bee¡¯s vivid style: a winged horse galloping across waves; the famous twinned bronze pillars known to stand in the temple of Melqart outside the city of Gadir in Iberia; a black saber-toothed cat; nine half-moons. And a pretty little portrait of me from the back, holding by the hair the decapitated head of Queen Anacaona as I looked over my shoulder as if in flight from a pursuer.

    ¡°Gah.¡± I reached across him to turn the page, for the gruesome detail took me aback.

    He pulled the book away from me. ¡°The White Horse is a ship that will sail to Gadir from the quay known by its pillars of Heracles, which to the Phoenicians are known to be the pillars in the temple of Melqart at Gadir. On the Nones of November, the fifth day of November, which is today, the fugitive accused of the murder of the cacica will arrive at the quay with her brother.¡±

    ¡°Why nine moons when November isn¡¯t the ninth month? And why the half-moon?¡±

    ¡°In the early Roman calendar, November was the ninth month. Nones refers to the day of the half-moon. If you don¡¯t know that, you can¡¯t make use of the dream.¡±

    ¡°You could just have guessed I might have tried to escape on a Phoenician ship leaving before the tide turns.¡±

    Taino soldiers parted ranks to allow a frowning Prince Caonabo to come forward.

    The general indicated me. ¡°Your Highness. I told you I would find her. With this one, you really need to use a rope if you want to capture her.¡±

    He whistled. In his first war his army had been famed for its Amazon Corps, women who fought with more ferocity than men. My mother, Tara Bell, had been a captain in his Amazon Corps, and she had been condemned to death for the crime of becoming pregnant, with me. A woman dressed in soldier¡¯s garb walked forward. Captain Tira sheathed her falcata and unlooped a length of rope. It had a noose, to go around my neck.

    ¡°Yee cannot be serious!¡± said Kofi.

    Rory snarled.

    Camjiata smiled, as if he hoped I would do something reckless.

    Luce, Kofi, and the men of Kofi¡¯s household were fenced in. No doubt they would be charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive.

    ¡°Your Highness, I¡¯ll come quietly,¡± I said to Prince Caonabo, ¡°if you will agree to let these people go free, no questions asked, no grudge held, no charges brought.¡±

    ¡°So have I already agreed,¡± the prince replied. ¡°All but your brother may go without prejudice.¡±

    ¡°Kofi, just go,¡± I said, for by the gritting of his teeth I could see his frustration building.

    His eyes flared as he gestured for his kinfolk to depart, but he went. Luce flung her arms around Rory, who peeled her off and pushed her after the others. The soldiers made an opening for them to push out their carts. A crowd had begun to gather on the jetty, mostly laborers headed for work or women carrying wood or water to their homes.

    ¡°An ugly crowd,¡± said Camjiata. ¡°Best we make our way to Council Hall quickly, Your Highness. We need only leash the girl. The young man will follow her.¡±

    No longer pretending to smile, he dropped the noose over my neck. The coarse sailor¡¯s hemp chafed my skin.

    The prince¡¯s open carriage rolled out from behind Nance¡¯s. I clothed myself in as much dignity as I could gather and stepped up into it. Rory walked behind the carriage to keep an eye on everyone. I wondered if it was his usual position in the hunt when he and his mother, aunt, and sisters prowled the spirit world in search of their next meal.

    Prince Caonabo sat facing me. Camjiata sat next to me, holding the rope.

    As the driver snapped the reins and the horses moved forward, the Taino soldiers paced in disciplined ranks. The general¡¯s Iberian veterans had more of a swagger. Sailors and laborers gathered at slips and quays to stare, and women and wagons moved aside to let us pass. A gaggle of young toughs shadowed us.

    ¡°Why have you involved yourself in this inquiry, General?¡± I asked politely, even if I really wanted to bite and claw.

    ¡°Cat, I am not your enemy. Please be assured that Tara Bell¡¯s child will always have a home with me if she needs shelter. I want only to protect you.¡± I had never met a man who could speak in such sentimental platitudes and yet have it sound so genuine and unforced. It was one of the most irritating things about him.

    ¡°Protect me? You betrayed me!¡±

    ¡°The cacica was required by law to exile you to Salt Island. What you don¡¯t understand is that Salt Island was the safest place for you at that time.¡±

 Page 14

    ¡°That you can say so with a straight face and such sincerity is almost admirable! Everything I did here in Expedition was machinated by you.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps not quite everything. Things are not as simple as you believe they are. But this is not the place to discuss them.¡±

    We crossed under the shadow of the gate and into the old city with its encircling stone walls, legacy of an earlier time. For generations, only families with Council ties and wealth were allowed to own property inside the walls, while newer districts were built outside the walls. When the Council still ruled, the gates were locked at dusk and even in the daytime any person entering the old city could be searched. Now the toughs swarmed right in after us, dogging our heels. Their presence heartened me.

    I addressed Prince Caonabo. ¡°Your Highness, did you know that the general believes I am to be the instrument of his death? That is why he conspired with your mother the honored cacica to have me permanently quarantined on Salt Island.¡±

    ¡°I want the truth,¡± said Caonabo.

    We halted at the base of the wide steps that fronted Council Hall. I caught sight of Luce pushing through the crowd. Idiot girl! Rory gestured to warn her off.

    The prince¡¯s attendants unfolded the carriage steps.

    Before any of us could alight from the carriage, a young man descended the steps of Council Hall with a mocking grin that I wanted to punch right off his face. His red-gold hair seemed to blaze like flame and his blue eyes to kindle with heat, or maybe those were sparks from his fire magic. Really, the last person I wanted to see in a situation like this was James Drake. I curled my left hand into a fist as he came up.

    ¡°Why, Cat, I¡¯ve been waiting all night for you to show up.¡± As an afterthought, he acknowledged the prince with a careless wave. ¡°Your Highness, my understanding of Taino law is that murderers are sentenced to labor in the cane fields for life. Or they are assigned as a catch-fire to a fire mage. We all know she¡¯s responsible for the Exalted Queen¡¯s death. Once she is convicted, I will be happy to take her off Taino hands. I could use a remarkably pretty catch-fire.¡±

    Naturally Prince Caonabo had too much dignity to respond to this rude outburst.

    But I didn¡¯t!

    ¡°James Drake! Why are you standing here waiting for me like a lovesick but rejected suitor?¡±

    The general pulled firmly on the rope to keep me on the seat. ¡°Don¡¯t be rash, Cat,¡± he murmured. ¡°This is not the place or time for a pissing match.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t waiting because I want you!¡± Drake¡¯s gaze flicked around the crowd: the Taino soldiers, the crowd held at a prudent distance by wardens, Camjiata¡¯s retinue of veterans, and the guards stationed at the Council Hall doors. He pitched his voice louder. ¡°I hope you finally understand that I slept with you only to show the cold mage he wasn¡¯t so high and mighty as he thought he was. Because there¡¯s really nothing a man hates more than knowing his wife is a whore.¡±

    The word stung. ¡°You lied to me and got me drunk.¡±

    ¡°The ease with which I got you to have sex ought to give any man pause, knowing how easy it was to tip rum down your throat and coax the clothes off your admittedly attractive body. Still, it scarcely matters now. I¡¯m a magnanimous man. I¡¯d never turn away a pretty girl like you if you offered to warm my bed in exchange for better treatment after the standing inquiry condemns you as a murderer.¡±

    My face was burning, and my heart was pounding. ¡°Fortunately, I only had sexual congress with you twice. That¡¯s all I needed, to know I needn¡¯t bother if I want to take any pleasure from the act.¡±

    People in the crowd sniggered.

    The prince was literally blinking in astonishment, mouth agape.

    Drake laughed derisively, but anyone could see he was furious. ¡°You keep ruining the impression of your pretty face with that crass mouth of yours. Now that you¡¯re an accused murderer, I¡¯d be careful about antagonizing the only person in this city who might be persuaded to make your life more pleasant than it will be in the cane fields.¡±

    When I shifted forward with fist cocked, the general tugged on the rope to pull me up short.

    ¡°I¡¯d have to be dead before I¡¯d let you touch me,¡± I said as the hemp scraped my neck.

    ¡°Strange you should phrase it in quite that way.¡± Drake smiled as might a man who is waiting to see your reaction when you realize the trap has closed over your foot.

    ¡°James, that is really enough,¡± Camjiata said without raising his voice.

    ¡°I will tell you what is enough! Enough is that my noble kinfolk stole my birthright and inheritance, and I let them because I was too young and powerless to fight. But I¡¯m not powerless now. I want her as my catch-fire, so I¡¯ll cursed well get her as my catch-fire. I¡¯ll have the last word after all, won¡¯t I?¡±

 Page 15

    ¡°You sound like a man who can¡¯t let go of the knowledge that he lost and his rival succeeded. As for you, Cat, this childish bickering insults His Noble Highness the prince and indeed all of us forced to listen to it.¡±

    Drake was livid. ¡°I did not lose to him!¡±

    Drake had the power to immolate me, but in doing so, he would burn himself up as well. Unlike Prince Caonabo, he had no catch-fires to spill away the backlash of his magic. I couldn¡¯t help myself. I had to keep poking.

    ¡°Really? It¡¯s never bothered you that you couldn¡¯t spoil his love for me because he¡¯s a better man than you¡¯ll ever be? That the moment I found him I never thought of you again? That he¡¯s killed your fire magic more than once and can do it again?¡±

    Light pulsed as the forecourt¡¯s gas lamps flared. A mist-like glamour writhed around Drake¡¯s body. ¡°When next I meet Andevai Diarisso Haranwy, he will crawl at my feet and admit I am stronger than he is. Fire always defeats ice in the end.¡±

    Prince Caonabo spoke sharp words in Taino. Soldiers raised rifles. The murmuring crowd pushed back, for no one wanted to stand close when a fire mage went rogue.

    ¡°I said enough!¡± snapped the general. ¡°James, go back to the house.¡±

    ¡°Enough is right! I¡¯ve had enough of this bitch!¡± His bright blue eyes really did seem to blaze.

    Heat flared in my chest, like fire kindling. I lunged, but the general yanked me down so hard I hit my shoulder and banged a knee. In that eyeblink during which I was too stunned to move, I saw what would happen by the stiffening of Rory¡¯s shoulders, the tremor in his eyes. Like me he thought with his body. He reacted to danger in an entirely predictable way.

    Rory changed as thoroughly as if the tide of a dragon¡¯s dream washed over him to dissolve him into his true form. His body melted and flowed, clothes ripping at the seams as his shape shifted. A huge black saber-toothed cat leaped.

    Reports rang out, guns going off, and the big cat stumbled and went down.

    5

    Heedless of claws and teeth, Luce threw her body across the thrashing cat. That was the only reason the Taino soldiers did not finish him off.

    I ripped the rope out of the general¡¯s grasp and jumped from the carriage, brandishing my cane as I ran to Rory¡¯s side. ¡°Call them off!¡±

    The instant I pressed my cane against his head to make sure he didn¡¯t bite anyone, his body melted away to become a man lying naked and bleeding on the cobblestones. He¡¯d been hit in his right shoulder and left thigh. A liquid pulsed along his skin like blood, although it was clear, not red. His eyes were open, questing back and forth as if trying to fix on a moving target.

    I grasped his hand.

    ¡°Is this death, Cat?¡± His voice was a whisper. ¡°I feel my strength draining out of me. Will my spirit pass back to my mother on the other side? Or will I just dissolve into the wind?¡±

    Soldiers blocked us in, facing the angry crowd. Caonabo came up with his catch-fires.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch him!¡± I snarled.

    ¡°Make your choice, Perdita. He may bleed out, or I can cauterize his wounds.¡±

    His words punched the breath right out of my lungs. I shifted back to let him kneel.

    ¡°Rory, this fire mage will stop the bleeding. Allow him to touch you.¡±

    Among Rory¡¯s people¡ªa pride of saber-toothed cats who roamed in the spirit world¡ªa male trusted his mother and aunts and sisters absolutely. He watched me with eyes as amber as my own, for we had inherited golden eyes and black hair from the creature who had sired us. Luce crept to my side as the prince inspected the wounded leg. He wiped up a dab of the colorless blood, sniffed it, and glanced at me but asked no questions. A man of his education no doubt could draw his own conclusions. After assuring himself the shot had gone clear through flesh, he placed a hand on either side of the thigh.

    Caonabo¡¯s two catch-fires lit as if they were gas lamps touched to flame.

    I gasped. Luce¡¯s grip on my arm tightened.

    A skin of fire radiated from the prince¡¯s hands. Four days ago, on Hallows¡¯ Eve, standing under the veil of my sire¡¯s terrifying power, I had seen Prince Caonabo¡¯s mother casting off the backlash of her magic into a net of catch-fires. The lines drawn between the cacica and her catch-fires had spanned the island of Kiskeya. She had created a woven web through which the backwash of fire magic was drained out of her, through the catch-fires, and into the seemingly bottomless well that was the spirit world. Shimmering threads spun out of Caonabo and into his catch-fires. One catch-fire alone would have burst into flame and died; two could split the backlash between them and pour it harmlessly away.

 Page 16

    Rory exhaled sharply. His eyes rolled up, and he passed out.

    ¡°Blessed Tanit!¡± I touched his throat.

    His pulse stirred, weak but steady, as pale blood leaked along the curve of his neck. Unthinkingly, I licked his blood off my fingers. It was so sweet, not harsh at all.

    Prince Caonabo draped linen over Rory¡¯s genitals to give him a scrap of dignity. An elderly woman with feathers and beads woven into her white hair approached, carrying a basket. She produced a pair of tweezers. He probed Rory¡¯s shoulder and pulled out a bloody bullet. He then pressed a hand over the wound and cauterized it as well.

    Luce sat beside me, clutching my other arm. I scrubbed at my lips but the taste of Rory¡¯s blood lingered. I began to shake.

    Caonabo rose. ¡°Now we go to Council Hall.¡±

    ¡°Yee shall not go with them, Cat!¡± Luce cried. ¡°They shan¡¯t kill yee!¡±

    ¡°Hush, Luce.¡± I grabbed her. ¡°Help Kofi bring our gear. Quickly! Now go!¡±

    She kissed Rory¡¯s cheek in a way that brought tears to my eyes. She was free to choose what pleasure and affection she desired. If he died, who was I or anyone to say it would have been better if they had not shared love?

    Proudly she rose. At a gesture from Caonabo, the Taino soldiers parted to let her leave. I yanked off the noose over my neck and only then did I think to look for James Drake.

    He had vanished. Caonabo was wiping his hands with a cloth, surrounded by concerned attendants.

    Camjiata took hold of my elbow. ¡°Don¡¯t be a fool, Cat. Drake has guessed the cold mage is still alive, for it is obvious whenever you speak of him. Your plan on Hallows¡¯ Night to kill me went badly wrong. Still, I hold no ill will against you. Our lives¡ªyours and mine¡ªare bound by destiny. We are meant to be allies in the struggle for liberation.¡±

    I shook off his grip. ¡°I¡¯m not putting that noose back on.¡±

    Wardens carried Rory up the steps, through the entryway, and along a corridor. The chamber we entered was furnished with tables and benches. The men settled Rory atop one of the tables and set up guard at both sets of doors. I asked them to bring a basin, water, and cloth, as well as a behique who was a healer.

    One door let onto the main corridor. A set of glass-paned doors opened onto a large central courtyard that was completely boxed in by the wings of the Council Hall complex. In the courtyard a monument depicted a buffalo and lion, and a covered cistern provided water. But the most striking object in the courtyard was a majestic ceiba tree, with a wide canopy and ridge-like roots grown out from the trunk.

    I paced, one hand on the ghost-sword the Taino believed held my mother¡¯s spirit and the other cupped around the locket I wore that contained a portrait of Daniel Hassi Barahal, the man who had called himself my father even though he had not sired me. The locket also held strands of hair from my husband. In the warmth of the locket I felt the pulse of the thread that bound the heart of Andevai Diarisso Haranwy to my own. Somewhere in the spirit world, Vai was alive.

    A local healer arrived, an older woman with a fire mage¡¯s crackling touch. After helping me wash Rory she coaxed a sweet-smelling syrup down his throat to help him sleep. After she left I sat beside him for the longest time, combing out his hair with my fingers because I had no other way to relieve the churn of my emotions. I¡¯d been a fool to provoke Drake, but it had felt so good! Yet he had wanted me to lose my temper, so I had played into his hands. The fire I¡¯d felt was my anger, not his magic. My rashness had hurt Rory, not me.

    I rested my head on my arms on the table. Rory¡¯s breathing whispered in my ear. I had to make a plan, but the general¡¯s words kept trampling through my thoughts: ¡°Our lives are bound by destiny.¡± Chains draped me everywhere I looked.

    My night¡¯s broken sleep caught up to me. I dozed, then drifted awake to the sound of voices outside. Groggily, I raised my head to look out into the courtyard. Judging by the lack of shadows, it was almost midday. Rory still slept. I jumped to my feet as the door to the main corridor opened.

    A troll entered. Prince Caonabo called them the feathered people, which was a more respectful and accurate description than the Europan appellation of trolls. What they called themselves involved whistling and song, an intricate language whose nuances we rats¡ªas trolls called humans¡ªcould not imitate except at the simplest level.

    Like all trolls Keer was tall, with the predatorily gracile movement of a creature at home with killing, even though I had never seen her eat anything other than fruit and nuts. She had the snout and teeth of a hunter and big, round eyes like those of a raptor that can see farther and with more detail than any human. Seen from a distance, the tiny brown feathers covering her skin made it look as if she were covered with scales. Close up, the odd shimmer of feathers and the expressive shifting of her feathered crest caused her to seem a blend of lizard and bird and yet, truly, not either one. She was a lawyer, the local representative of the firm of Godwik and Clutch. Her clutch also ran a printing press.

 Page 17

    Behind her came Kofi and Luce carrying Vai¡¯s chest between them.

    Keer approached me in an intimidating manner, but I did not retreat. She passed her cheek alongside mine, and took in an audible sniff. I sucked in a breath myself, for it was always wise to imitate what trolls did as a mark of respect. Her scent reminded me of the perfume of summer in the north, when the sun bakes grass from green to gold.

    She bobbed a greeting, then stepped away to pace around the table on which Rory lay. ¡°I have come to represent you at the standing inquiry, and to help you make your defense. Curious, this one. He looks like a rat but he smells like a cat.¡±

    I smoothed a hand over Rory¡¯s disheveled hair, wondering if Keer was fighting off an urge to taste mancat flesh. ¡°I suppose he does.¡±

    She chuffed a trollish laugh. Three trolls accompanied her. Two posted themselves as guards, one at each door. The third sat at the other table, opened a writing case, and prepared to take a written record of the proceedings.

    ¡°Cat, have yee eaten?¡± Luce asked.

    ¡°I asked the wardens to bring something, but they never did.¡±

    ¡°How like men!¡± she muttered. ¡°Yee must be famished.¡±

    ¡°I am, and really thirsty, too.¡±

    ¡°We cannot begin until you are fed,¡± said Keer. ¡°No person can be expected to think properly if she is distracted by hunger.¡± She showed her teeth in an unsettling mimicry of a human smile, which reminded me how easily she could eat me if she were distracted by hunger.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get food,¡± said Luce.

    While we waited, Keer, Kofi, and I argued about the latest batey games and gossip. Luce returned with rice porridge, fruit, ginger beer, and enough cassava bread and rice and peas to feed six of me, although I managed to finish almost half of it while the others picked off the rest. When I had done, Keer banished Luce and Kofi.

    ¡°I must conduct the interview in privacy, so yee must wait outside.¡± When they had gone, she settled opposite me at the table. She was facile with human language and adjusted her speech to fit her listener. ¡°Tell me everything that happened.¡±

    I explained how I had been betrayed by General Camjiata into the custody of Queen Anacaona, and how she had ordered her people to imprison me on Salt Island because I had been bitten by a salter. ¡°But the cacica herself said I was clean. The salt plague is spread by the invisible teeth of the ghouls, eating through flesh and then into the brain. I have no ghoul¡¯s teeth in my body. There was nothing to heal.¡±

    ¡°Useful to know but not helpful with the case,¡± she said, watching as the clerk scratched markings I could not read. ¡°The First Treaty does give the Taino the right to demand you be turned over to them because of the quarantine. What else can you tell me?¡±

    I explained how, on Hallows¡¯ Eve, the Wild Hunt had ridden out of a hurricane and rescued me from Salt Island. At the command of the Master of the Wild Hunt, I had cut a path with my half-mortal blood through the fence of magic that surrounded the Taino kingdom. My sire had told me the Wild Hunt would kill my dear cousin Beatrice if I did not find richer blood to feed the courts who ruled the Hunt. I had meant for the Wild Hunt to kill General Camjiata, the man who had betrayed me. But because Camjiata had no magic, my sire could not see or sense him. Instead, my sire had decided to kill my husband because he was a cold mage of rare and unexpected potency. At the same time, the cacica had been about to kill me together with other fugitives who had escaped Salt Island.

    ¡°You did not with your own hands, talons, teeth, or sword kill the cacica,¡± said Keer.

    ¡°No, but I convinced the Master of the Wild Hunt to take her instead of Vai.¡±

    ¡°You acted in self-defense. The cacica was about to kill you, and you defended yourself.¡±

    ¡°What about Rory? Many witnesses saw a black saber-toothed cat break her neck.¡±

    She tapped her taloned fingers on the table. ¡°Is a soldier responsible for the deaths he is ordered to inflict in battle? Or is the general who commands the deaths held to be the responsible party? Furthermore, on a night of storm, confused and frightened people may see shadows as giant eagles or as creeping spiders. Perhaps there was such a cat. Certainly in the ancestral territories of my people, what you rats call troll country, such carnivores prowl the land. We have hunted them and been hunted in our turn. But that is not proof that your brother committed the act.¡±

    ¡°The prince saw him become a cat and then change back into a man, just now, when he got shot,¡± I said.

    ¡°We cannot accuse a man of thieving a hat just because some man was seen to steal a hat and the accused is also a man.¡± She bared her teeth at me in a brilliantly sharp smile, as if she were preparing to eat any lawyers who argued against her. ¡°Very well. I am prepared to make a case.¡±

 Page 18

    As the clerk tidied up her notes, we went to the glass-paned doors to look into the deserted courtyard. Afternoon shadows smeared darkness across stone pathways.

    Kofi joined us there. ¡°I have set wardens to guard yee so the fire mage can make no mischief before the inquiry. I don¡¯ trust him, with the way he went after yee on the steps. As for the general, we shall see who shall come out the winner in this match.¡±

    ¡°The general scored a point on you all, didn¡¯t he? By catching me at the quay.¡±

    His taut smile made him look eager for a fight. ¡°We¡¯s not playing batey now. We in the Assembly is playing the game of politics. We don¡¯ intend to lose this hard-won freedom. If the Taino can force us to turn yee over to them, then it¡¯s as if they rule us. That¡¯s why we shall fight so hard to get yee off, despite what the law and the First Treaty say.¡±

    Voices were raised outside. We looked around as the door slammed open to reveal stern-faced Taino soldiers, richly dressed attendants, Prince Caonabo, and Beatrice.

    6

    Some people have the knack of sweeping into any situation as if they were born to be the light of all eyes. Beatrice might be mistaken for a shallow, flighty, and self-absorbed young woman, but I knew her bombastic and flamboyant manner concealed a generous heart, a brooding intellect, and an indignation at the unfairness and injustice in the world. She had had a lot of time to think about the curse of dreaming that would plague her for the rest of her life and had chosen to confront it head-on. Clutching a sketchbook and lead pencil, she sailed into the room.

    ¡°Cat! There you are!¡±

    A magnificent white cotton robe in the style of a Taino noblewoman¡¯s covered her from shoulders to ankles. A bodice beaded with pearls wrapped her bosom and waist, emphasizing her much admired and voluptuous curves. The lush curls of her black hair cascaded around her shoulders, ornamented with strings of pearls. She embraced me, then looked around my shoulder.

    ¡°Rory!¡± She ran to him and rested her cheek against his. Tears glimmered in her eyes.

    ¡°Prince Caonabo healed him,¡± I said, following her. ¡°I thought you should know that.¡±

    Prince Caonabo broke his silence. ¡°Assemblyman, how can my people trust those who will not honor the law and our ancient treaties?¡±

    ¡°A heavy accusation, Your Highness,¡± said Kofi, with the stare of a man who feels sure of his ground. I was surprised he spoke so boldly to the Taino prince. ¡°My advice to yee is to be careful in how yee choose yee allies.¡±

    The prince indicated the door. ¡°I should prefer to speak to the accused in private.¡±

    Kofi looked at me, and I nodded my permission. He, Keer, and all the others left. Bee and I were alone with the prince except, of course, for his catch-fires and Rory.

    Bee smiled blindingly at Caonabo for long enough to coax a smile to his grave expression. ¡°I hope you see it is impossible for you to consider hanging my dear Cat.¡±

    ¡°Hanging is a barbaric Europan custom,¡± the prince replied as he crossed the chamber.

    Reaching her, he extended a hand. To my surprise, Bee meekly handed him her new sketchbook, the one she had started after Camjiata had stolen the other. Bee had started drawing the year my parents died and had never stopped. She often slept with a pencil in her hand. Even now her fingers were smudged with lead. She had been drawing and had come in such haste she hadn¡¯t had time to wash.

    ¡°So, Beatrice¡±¡ªhe pronounced the name charmingly, like Bey-a-tree-say¡ª¡°we all three know she had a hand in the death of my mother.¡± I would never have dared to thumb through Bee¡¯s sketchbook without permission unless I was far enough away from her to avoid objects flung at me. He flipped casually through its mostly blank pages. ¡°Regardless, I have done as you asked.¡±

    ¡°What did you ask, Bee?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°I asked nothing.¡± Bee¡¯s gaze was fixed on the sketchbook as if she expected spiders to crawl out of it.

    ¡°It is true. She asked nothing. A woman like Beatrice does not crudely threaten. She would never remind me in plain words that my claim to the cacique¡¯s throne is tenuous and that I need her presence as my bride to give my claim weight. She would never hold over my head how precious a treasure she is. One need only look at her to know that.¡±

    She flashed a gaze at him, her chin trembling, then demurely cast her gaze to the floor. ¡°Does the marriage bed not please you, Husband?¡±

    He tensed. ¡°You know it does. But that cannot sway me.¡±

    ¡°Sway you from what?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Beatrice went to visit you at your domicile yesterday,¡± said the prince. ¡°She returned to the palace before evening. It was at that time I believe she heard my councillors speak of arresting you for the murder of the cacica. Here is the sketch she drew this morning.¡±

 Page 19

    He showed me a sketch. Bee had drawn five people on a wide path. The path was spanned by a huge monumental archway hung with painted gourds in the Taino style. Seen past the arch, lying below the height, spread a splendid city and harbor, almost certainly Taino if one judged by the ballcourt and sprawling palace seen in the distance. Rory loitered at the back of the group with a jaunty grin on his face, as if he¡¯d just gotten away with something he knew he ought not to have done, and certainly ought not to have enjoyed quite so much. A second man was sketched entirely from the back, but I could tell he was Vai. He wore a splendidly fashionable dash jacket printed in an outrageous pattern of flowers like bursting fireworks, and he was holding my hand. In the sketch, I looked as cranky and out of sorts as if I¡¯d been having a discussion I didn¡¯t want to have. Fortunately I was wearing a fashionable military-cut riding jacket with a split skirt and a jaunty hat.

    In the sketch, Prince Caonabo leaned against the right-hand span of the archway as if he had been waiting a long time for us to reach him. Bee strode out in front looking quite spectacularly¡­

    ¡°Pregnant!¡± I cried.

    ¡°Pregnant,¡± agreed Caonabo. He snapped the sketchbook shut, and Bee flinched. ¡°There you are, Maestra, you and your brother and your husband, alive and well in Sharagua. What man would not be moved by such a pleasing vision of his harmonious future?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t had time to examine the sketch closely, for there was one obvious thing that might have caused this puzzling tension between them. ¡°That is you, Your Highness, is it not?¡±

    Bee blushed mightily.

    Caonabo did not look at her, only at me. ¡°You wonder if I believe it to be my brother. Ha¨¹bey and I are twins, shaped to the same mold. Few people can tell us apart. But Beatrice can tell us apart. It is evident to me by certain small signs¡±¡ªnone of which he was going to share with me!¡ª¡°that the man in the sketch is meant to represent me rather than Ha¨¹bey. The sketch might be described as a bribe, if you will.¡±

    I grasped Bee¡¯s hand. Her skin felt like ice. ¡°What do you mean, Your Highness?¡±

    ¡°What man would not wish to make sure such a future came about by protecting all the parts necessary to make this meeting happen? Do you not suppose so, Beatrice? A man¡¯s ability to sire children is a mark of potency. Even though it is my sister¡¯s sons who will inherit my position as cacique once I pass over, still, a cacique who cannot sire children of his own will be seen as a weak man unworthy of the duho, the seat of power.¡±

    Bee¡¯s fingers tightened on mine until my hand hurt. Her strength always surprised people, even me as I set my jaw and tried to relax into the pain, for it was clear Bee was truly upset.

    He went on in that same level voice, but I could hear an edge. ¡°But one problem remains.¡±

    ¡°What is that, Your Highness?¡±

    ¡°Dream walkers are barren.¡±

    Bee gasped.

    ¡°How can anyone know?¡± I asked, but my mind was already churning. Camjiata had married a dream walker and she had never borne children. The radical fighter Brennan Tour¨¦ Du had told Bee and me a story about a young woman from his home village who had seen visions and been killed by the Wild Hunt on Hallows¡¯ Night, and Brennan had remarked that although the woman had been married for five years, she had given birth to no child in that time. ¡°I mean, surely even if one or two dreamers never had children, no scholar would claim that means all such women are barren.¡±

    ¡°We Taino have studied this matter for many generations. We have our own disciplines of what the Romans name scientia. Who first observed the transit of the planet you call Venus? Who invented the steam engine, which was then carried across the sea to Europa? Our scholars have spanned earth and heavens with their investigations. It is known to our scholars through careful investigation that dream walkers are barren. The sketch is a lie, not a dream. Is it not, Beatrice?¡±

    She released my hand. I winced as blood flowed back into my squashed fingers.

    ¡°My bride lied to me, deliberately and with forethought. She meant to mislead and manipulate me into doing what she wanted.¡±

    From the vivid flush in her cheeks and the tears streaking her face, it was obvious she was both ashamed and defiant. ¡°My other choice was to tell you I would divorce you and not help you gain the throne. I will not stand by and see Cat put on trial and executed.¡±

    ¡°Telling me the truth would have been honest.¡± That he did not look at her made his words sound even more hurtful. He stared at me, as if daring me to look away and thus prove my guilt. ¡°Tell me, Catherine Bell Barahal, do you care that you are responsible for the cacica¡¯s death? If her exalted rank means nothing, for I believe you once told me that Taino queens and princes mean little enough to you, then do you care that you are responsible for a woman¡¯s death?¡±

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    ¡°How dare you speak to her like that!¡± Bee stepped between him and me with such an aggressive movement that both catch-fires turned. ¡°Cat did not murder the cacica! It¡¯s unjust of you to blame her just because you need someone to blame!¡±

    I set Bee firmly to one side. ¡°No, he deserves an answer.¡±

    Prince Caonabo and I were the same height, so we matched, eye to eye. ¡°I held no animosity toward Queen Anacaona except that she conspired with General Camjiata to exile me to Salt Island. At least her motives seemed disinterested in that regard. But at the ballcourt on Hallows¡¯ Night, she was going to kill me. You know it is true.¡±

    ¡°I heard her words. She called for the death of salters, as was her right and obligation to protect the kingdom from illness.¡±

    ¡°She would have killed your twin brother, too, and other people as well, people whose only crime was to have been bitten by salters and healed by fire mages like yourself. As you once healed your brother. Isn¡¯t that right?¡±

    He hesitated, then frowned. ¡°It is true.¡±

    ¡°Ha¨¹bey would have died on Hallows¡¯ Night, too?¡± Bee whispered. ¡°You never told me that!¡±

    A flare of emotion blushed his cheeks.

    I leaped into silence, for I wanted him to be angry at me instead of Bee. ¡°I couldn¡¯t possibly kill a fire mage as powerful as Queen Anacaona. It seems to me you Taino should direct your anger at the personage who wielded the power to kill the cacica. We Europans call him the Master of the Wild Hunt. I suppose you Taino would call him a spirit lord. But he¡¯s beyond your reach, so you cast your spears of revenge at me.¡±

    His eyes tightened at the corners as he glanced at Bee, then back at me. ¡°Even with the cacica alive, I would have needed the woman who walks the dreams of dragons to strengthen my position when I travel to Sharagua to claim the cacique¡¯s duho. Ha¨¹bey was the son my mother trained for the duho, not me. But he can never set foot in our land again because, as you say, he was bitten by a salter. That I healed him makes no difference to his exile. He has taken a foreign name, Juba, to show he is dead in Taino country. He has already departed over the sea. Yet I would dishonor my lineage if I allowed a different branch of the family to wrest the duho from me. So you will travel to Sharagua with me, Beatrice. I have the right to ask that of you. And the means to make you do it.¡±

    He offered her the sketchbook. She hesitated to take it, for his gesture had an air of finality that made my neck prickle.

    He opened his hand. The book fell. Bee grabbed it before it hit the floor.

    ¡°When the duho has passed to me and I am proclaimed as cacique, you will leave Taino country and never come back. You didn¡¯t just lie. You made use of the pure and sacred vision that is the treasure of dreams you guard, to try and cheat me and my people.¡±

    ¡°You forced me to choose between you and my cousin,¡± Bee said. ¡°You accused her unfairly. It looks to me as if you want to sacrifice her in order to gain the throne. I think I am the one who may doubt the purity of your intentions!¡±

    ¡°You have no idea what my intentions are, or how I intended to thread this labyrinth, to find a way to satisfy justice. We Taino do not sacrifice servants forced to obey their master¡¯s command. But you treat me as a foreigner who cannot be trusted. Yet you were willing to exchange your body and your dreams for the wealth, security, and knowledge my rank and my people offered you.¡±

    She flinched as if his rebuke had been a physical slap. ¡°I have done what my heart told me to do, Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°What of your duty?¡± His calm gaze and measured words fell more harshly than anger would have.

    I embraced her, resting my cheek on her hair as I whispered. ¡°Kofi and Keer have a plan for my defense. Kayleigh has money if we need it for berths on a ship. I will support you whatever you choose, Bee. Do what you must.¡±

    She took in a shuddering breath. ¡°Hassi Barahals may be mercenaries and spies, but we are never, ever cheats.¡±

    ¡°Then go. We can leave messages for each other at any of the law offices of Godwik and Clutch, here or in Adurnam or Havery.¡±

    She wiped her cheeks as she released me. Majestic in presence, she faced the man she had agreed to marry believing his exalted position and powerful kingdom could protect us. ¡°I will do my duty toward you, Your Highness. Never think otherwise.¡±

    I could not read the book of Caonabo¡¯s emotions as I had learned to read Andevai. Despite his vanity and arrogance, or perhaps because of them, Vai had far less restraint. That he believed he had a great deal of self-control while having very little had become one of the things that charmed me about him. Not so with Prince Caonabo. As I watched him watch Bee walk with dignity to the door, I could not tell if he yearned for what they had so quickly lost or if he was simply measuring the odds that he could trust her to do the part he needed her to do.

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    At the door she glanced back. Her gaze caught mine. We said nothing, for we knew what we needed to know of each other. Our love was our promise and our security. She left, leaving the door open behind her for Caonabo to follow.

    The prince paused, turning to give me a last look. ¡°The blood of my mother lies between us, Catherine Bell Barahal. But because I respect the law, I act as the law requires. Do you? Will you take responsibility for your actions, or will you seek the chance to escape what you have brought about without accepting your part in it?¡±

    7

    I had to trust in the plan hatched by Kofi and Keer. With Rory wounded, I had few options.

    We spent the rest of the afternoon quietly. When Rory woke up, he seemed far better than he had any right to be, but he developed a sulky whine that Luce was better able to tolerate than I was. She demanded that wash water be brought so I could bathe and change my clothes. I sewed buttonholes on the two winter coats because the tailors hadn¡¯t had time to finish them. To pass the time, she and I discussed the chamber murals. The paintings depicted the history of the First Fleet: the eruption of the salt plague out of the salt mines of the Sahara Desert; the crossing of the Atlantic Ocean by the multitudes fleeing with the Malian fleet; landfall on the southern shore of the island of Kiskeya in the Sea of Antilles.

    Luce traced the adventures of her ancestors with a look of dizzy excitement. ¡°I shall have an adventure, too. I shall come with yee to rescue Vai. I¡¯s old enough to leave home. I always wanted to travel, like me father!¡±

    ¡°No, you shall not!¡± Leaning my forehead against hers, I captured her gaze with mine to bind her to my will. I was implacable; I had to be, because she was a sheltered girl with a sunny good nature from having grown up in a loyal household whose family members cared for each other. ¡°We can¡¯t afford your passage to Europa. You can¡¯t walk into the spirit world anyway.¡±

    Her frown developed a stubborn kick.

    ¡°Rory and I can cross into the spirit world because of what we are. People aren¡¯t meant to walk there. Hunters apprentice for years to learn the secret lore passed down among them. You will die, or be changed beyond recognition.¡±

    Luce glared, trembling. ¡°Everyone say I shall be a great help to me mother to run the boardinghouse. But what if that is not what I want? I don¡¯ want to work in them factories neither. And the ships me father sails don¡¯ accept women as sailors, for that is the Roman way. I don¡¯ have the connections nor the apprentice fee a gal need to get a berth on a ship run by a troll consortium.¡±

    ¡°It would just kill your family if you left, Luce. They love you!¡±

    Her dark gaze accused me, as if I had betrayed her.

    Rory stirred. ¡°I¡¯m thirsty,¡± he whimpered. She went to him.

    At nightfall I went to the doors that looked over the courtyard. Kofi joined me.

    ¡°How old is that ceiba tree?¡± In the night breeze stirring its branches I was sure I felt the breath of the spirit world. Its scent wound through my bones.

    Kofi rocked from toe to heel and back. ¡°¡¯Twas a sapling planted here on that very day the Taino caciques and the captains of the fleet met to seal the First Treaty. The story go that they who ruled chose one beautiful gal who did come over with the Malian fleet and one handsome lad who was Taino-born upon this island. They two were sacrificed and their blood and bones set in the earth to feed the tree and bind the treaty.¡±

    I pressed a cheek into the glass. I tasted on the air the ancient power of blood to bind the living and the dead.

    He put a hand on my forearm. ¡°The Taino believe the ancestors hold them to the right and proper way of living. There was never one thing to stop the Taino all these years from invading Expedition except so far as they held to the law.¡±

    ¡°No, I suppose not. The Taino kingdom is so powerful, and Expedition Territory is tiny in comparison. But I must say, Kofi, I really think their greatest strength is their fire mages. If I¡¯m found guilty, will the provisional Assembly allow the prince to take me away into Taino country? Will they hand me over to James Drake? Will they support me or sacrifice me?¡±

    The scars on his cheeks made him seem forbidding until he smiled. ¡°They shall have to find yee guilty first. I tell yee, gal, I have heard yee scold men before, but to watch yee tear into that fire mage Drake made me skin turn cold.¡±

    ¡°I know I shouldn¡¯t have spoken like that. I¡¯ll keep my mouth shut from now on.¡±

    He laughed.

    I leaned my head against Kofi¡¯s shoulder, so broad and solid, but I wished it were Vai I was leaning against. The shock of Caonabo repudiating Bee and her departure with him on a journey sure to be miserable and unpleasant had torn away my shield of determination. All my ugliest fears surfaced like Leviathan breaching the waves.

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    ¡°Vai¡¯s so accustomed to being the most powerful magister, to winning. What if my sire breaks him? What kind of man will he be? And will I still love him?¡±

    ¡°Peradventure Vai shall not survive this. But I reckon I have never met a man with such a high opinion of he own consequence. In such a dark place, a man¡¯s vanity and arrogance can be what save him.¡±

    I sniveled out something meant to be a chuckle. ¡°If any man¡¯s conceit can survive captivity by the Master of the Wild Hunt, it would be his.¡±

    ¡°There. Yee have brought yee fear out into the light. I reckon yee have been fretting.¡±

    I sniffled, wiping my eyes. ¡°Now Bee¡¯s thrown away her future trying to save me.¡±

    A windblown branch tapped on one of the glass doors that led out to the courtyard.

    ¡°Cat, she done no different a thing than yee did for her. Chance it shall even be for the best. The Taino nobles is a high and mighty people who look down on folk like us. Maybe she would fancy a life in their court, or maybe she would find she own self in a cage that squeeze like a trap. Vai told me one time that the day he was brought up from the village to Four Moons House and taken before the mansa, he reckoned he was the most fortunate lad alive to have such a chance. He came to find they did not want him but dared not turn him away. They treated him like the worst kind of mangy cur. So he decided to become better at being one of them than any of them was at it. Yee said to me one time that the worst thing for Vai shall be if he go back to the mage House and become a cold mage like to what he was when yee two first met. I see now what yee meant. ¡¯Twas no good home for him at the mage House. So why is yee so sure the Taino court would be a good home for yee cousin?¡±

    ¡°Do you think they could crush her?¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°That gal? I reckon not. But that don¡¯ mean she shall for a surety live a happy life there. Had she married a Taino man of the common run I reckon she should have as good a chance as any to have a good life, for the Taino live as well and justly as any folk do. But I¡¯s not a man to choose a palace of gold and precious shells over a humble room if the first come with a knife in the back and a foot on me heart and the second come with a smile and a kiss. I don¡¯ know what yee cousin wish for above all else. She may be glad later to have another choice.¡±

    When I thought about it, wondering what Bee would really want, I realized I wasn¡¯t sure. If anyone had asked me a year ago if I hoped and dreamed a handsome, wealthy, and well-connected young man would fall in love with me at first sight, I would have laughed and said yes because it was the sort of thing a young woman was supposed to say yes to. But it wouldn¡¯t have been true. Bee was the one who dreamed of a romantic story in which she figured as the principal heroine. I had wanted nothing more than to have a chance to follow in my father Daniel¡¯s footsteps, to travel the length and breadth of Europa seeing new places and, if I was fortunate, have adventures as he had had. I would have wanted a romantic interlude¡­ at some unspecified later date.

    Bee had made her choice. She had chosen to be loyal to me.

    I released Kofi¡¯s hand and smiled crookedly at him. ¡°Thank you, Kofi.¡±

    Rory had fallen back asleep, so Luce took the first watch in a chair and I settled on a bed of blankets on the floor. I shut my eyes, but my mind kept pressing me back into the bitterly sweet memory of lying in Vai¡¯s arms the one night we had shared. How he had kissed me! How was a gal meant to sleep if she could not stop thinking of his passionate caresses?

    The scratching at the window just would not stop. I sat up. Luce slept, one arm curled against her chest and the other flung out to one side. Kofi was leaning against the interior door, eyes closed, napping on his feet. I crawled over to the drapes that concealed the glass doors. I twitched aside the lower corner to peer out into the night-swamped courtyard.

    Shadows marked the glass in blotches and lines. Winged shapes flittered across the sky.

    A slender green finger was tapping on the glass. I recoiled. A branch had elongated until it reached the doors, as if trying to find a path inside. A bat perched on the swaying end, staring at me with obsidian eyes. I blinked, and it vanished.

    A man pressed against the door. He had Vai¡¯s face and he wore a magnificent dash jacket printed with fishes spilling out of gourds.

    ¡°We shall find a way in,¡± he said in a low, sweet voice. The scent of guava penetrated the glass separating us. I wanted to kiss him to taste the fruit, but I knew better. ¡°Yee cannot escape us. We know yee killed her.¡±

    The latch turned but caught because it was locked. The key shuddered in a gust of wind.

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    ¡°You can¡¯t come in,¡± I whispered.

    It was impossible to stare into those brown eyes and not be drawn closer; his lips tempted me; his hands reminded me of the kind of work they could do. But he was not Vai. He was an opia, the spirit of a dead man.

    ¡°Open the door,¡± he whispered, ¡°and yee shall have what yee so badly desire.¡±

    The hot look in his eyes drowned me. Next thing I knew, my hand was touching the key. I jerked away my hand and fixed it around the hilt of my sword.

    ¡°Cat?¡± The drape rustled away from me.

    I jolted back as Kofi joined me. He looked into the courtyard with its dense shadows and a night wind trawling through the branches of the ceiba tree. The nearest branches of the tree waved twenty strides or more from the glass-paned doors. Of branch, bat, or male figure I saw no sign, although a small frog hopped along the paving stones along the side of the building.

    ¡°I reckon yee shall step back from there,¡± Kofi said. ¡°That tree have a powerful spirit.¡±

    Shapes were climbing in the tree, some grappling up and some slipping down. The movement made me dizzy.

    ¡°Do you see them?¡± I whispered.

    Instead of answering, Kofi pulled me back, let the drapes cover the view, and settled me on the blankets beside Luce. I dozed off.

    A mosquito buzzed by my ear, and I kept swatting it away and it kept coming back, until I opened my eyes. Both Luce and Kofi slept soundly. But Rory was gone.

    One of the glass doors was open, its key fallen to the floor.

    With my ghost-sword in hand, I ran out into the courtyard. It was so late I heard not a breath of sound from anyone living.

    The soporific aroma of overripe guava drenched the air. As on a gust of wind, a cloud of bats poured down over the roofs that surrounded the courtyard. Their tiny bodies battered me. I drew my sword out of the spirit world where the blade resided and slashed at them, but they darted past into the shadow of the ceiba tree. A hundred ratlike rodents were hauling Rory up the trunk of the ceiba tree, calling to each other with whistling chirps and chortling barks.

    I sheathed my sword and ran back into the chamber.

    ¡°Kofi! Luce!¡± No matter how I shook them, they did not wake. They slept the heavy sleep of the enchanted.

    I dressed in skirt and sandals and grabbed the two flasks Uncle Joe had given me, as well as trousers, sandals, and a singlet from Vai¡¯s chest. Then I raced back out. I could still hear them climbing. The scent of the spirit world breathed down over me. I tasted its dry chaff and a kick of dust, as if I had walked into a mown hayfield baking under a late summer sun. The massive trunk was covered with big blunt thorns. Even had I been able to reach the lowest branch, I would have torn my skin to ribbons and bled all over the tree.

    Yet wasn¡¯t blood the gate? I surveyed the courtyard: stone sculpture, cistern, tree. In the spirit world, stone, well, and tree set the three points of a triangle to create warded ground. Warded ground had the property of reaching into the mortal world, as if the touch of the mortal world anchored the wards in the ever-changing spirit world. I had crossed into and out of the spirit world through stone. I had crossed into and out of the spirit world through water. Why not through the tree?

    The chortles of the thieves faded. I pressed my right arm onto the stinging tip of a thorn. It pierced my flesh with an almost audible groan. My blood trickled down the bark. Beneath my hand the tree smeared to shadow as the trunk became a ladderlike stair leading up into darkness. I tucked up my skirts to keep them out of the way, and I climbed.

    8

    I climbed up the central pillar of the tree toward a smoky abyss studded with lights. Desperation gave me strength and speed. Perhaps the little creatures were at a disadvantage, them being so many and so small and having to coordinate a large limp weight, for I sensed I was gaining on them.

    The canopy of leaves faded into smoke, just as it had in my dream. A sleeting wind cut my face, numbing my lips and then my fingers. With my next step, I kicked out over a gulf of air. Nothingness yawned around me as the tree dissolved. Falling, I flailed desperately.

    My sandals caught the rim of a ledge. A bucketing motion beneath and around me made me sway as though I had landed on a moving object. Just before I tumbled off, my hand fastened over a metal door latch. I tried to open it, but it was locked.

    ¡°Hsst!¡± a thin voice whispered. ¡°Quiet! Look through my eyes into those of my sibling inside.¡±

    The latch bit me, two pinprick points of pain. Blood slicked the metal. Like a scraping file, its tongue rasped away the moisture.

    I shut my eyes. Only then did I realize where I was. A coachman and his coach served the Master of the Wild Hunt. Gremlin spirits inhabited the latches of the coach¡¯s doors, one facing in and one facing out. Four days ago, as time passed in the mortal world, my sire had thrown me out of this very coach. Again I pushed on the latch, but it did not budge.

 Page 24

    Yet through the latch, linked by my blood, I saw into the interior of the coach.

    With a hand open on Vai¡¯s chest, the Master of the Wild Hunt pressed him against the opposite seat. Andevai¡¯s eyes were open but he seemed paralyzed, both blind and deaf. The gold threads of his red-and-gold dash jacket shimmered under a weirdly glowing light that emanated from my sire. His blue-white mask of ice made my sire seem even more dreadful, for the mask hid his expression and the true color of his eyes.

    For all I could tell, my sire had just flung me out a moment ago, as time flowed in the spirit world.

    For the longest time¡ªit seemed an eternity and yet maybe I took in only a single shocked breath¡ªhe kept himself propped at arm¡¯s length, hand splayed open on Vai¡¯s chest, while he examined Vai in the considering way an experienced cook examines produce to pick what is best out of the basket. He considered Vai¡¯s dark eyes, kissable mouth, very short, trim beard, and shorn-short black hair. His scrutiny had such a disturbingly predatory focus that I opened my mouth to protest, thinking I could be heard through the door. A rough lick from the gremlin¡¯s tongue silenced me. My lips went numb.

    As if he had seen enough, my sire sat back. The mask of ice melted into the youthful face he had worn on the ballcourt the night he had taken Vai prisoner after the death of the cacica. His was the kind of face that drew the eye even if you could not warm to it. He had long straight black hair like the Taino, eyes with a slight fold like the Cathayans, a thin Celtic nose, and brown skin rather lighter than Vai¡¯s deep brown Afric complexion. His golden eyes looked so like mine that anyone would know he and I were related.

    Vai sucked in a breath. His gaze swept the confines of the coach, flickering as he noted my sire sitting opposite him. He paused to examine the grubby bundle of clothing and food I¡¯d stolen on Salt Island. The shuttered doors and the rest of the interior had no ornamentation except loops to hold on to, a bracket for a lamp, and a filigree of gold-wire decoration around doors and joinings.

    As Vai realized I was gone, his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, which had been forged of cold steel by the secret mage craft known to Four Moons House. I could almost see his thoughts running. I was pretty sure that much of his exceptional power as a cold mage arose from his patience. He analyzed his situation from all angles before he made a decision, just as he spun illusions out of cold magic and worked them over and over until they were seamless.

    Vai¡¯s lips pressed into a flat line, and his gaze fell away as if he were looking elsewhere.

    The locket I wore at my neck grew warm. Over a year ago a djeli had been paid to weave magic to chain our marriage so I could not escape the mansa¡¯s command to bind the eldest Hassi Barahal daughter to Four Moons House. The djeli, a bard who was also a shaman, had anchored the magical chain in our bodies, so Vai had told me on the night we consummated the marriage. That night we had pledged in whispers things I dared not think of now because to be able to see but not touch or speak to him, to know he was in danger and cut off from me, made my spirit rage.

    His faraway pulse caught in my heart. His mouth twitched.

    He knew I lived. Maybe he even knew how close I was.

    He glanced cautiously at my sire. The contrast between the two men¡¯s clothing could not have been greater. My sire wore a jacket and trousers of unrelieved black, whereas Vai¡¯s clothing was a beacon, meant to be noticed and admired. It was one of his best garments, sewn by a master tailor from a tightly woven silk so smooth it was sensual, cut longer than the current fashion but so well built that the length and trim emphasized its flattering fit.

    With gaze lowered respectfully, as a younger man addresses an elder, he spoke polite words in an exceedingly polite voice that I was pretty sure disguised a rich vein of sarcasm.

    ¡°Where I come from, a man would call his wife¡¯s father Father. As a courtesy, you understand. To acknowledge the relationship between them. Shall I address you as Father then?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s dead.¡±

    Contempt flashed in Vai¡¯s expression, his chin coming up to allow him to look down his nose at an inferior being. I had seen that look all too often in the first days of our marriage. It was odd to be glad he had it in him when I had disliked him for it before. ¡°We both know she is not dead. I must suppose you will tell me what you did with her when you think it worth your while to reveal the information to me.¡±

    ¡°I threw her out the door. She¡¯s of no more use to me.¡±

    Vai¡¯s gaze flickered but he had enough self-control not to glance at either of the doors. ¡°Your own daughter? Able to cross between the mortal world and the spirit world at any time, of her own will and with a drop of her own blood? Of no more use to you? I don¡¯t believe that, and neither do you.¡±

 Page 25

    ¡°She accomplished what I commanded her to do. She cut a gate through the spirit fence the creatures of this part of your world have erected to stop my Hunt from entering these lands. Now I have even more fields in which to hunt.¡±

    ¡°Let us say that is true. If you truly had no more use for her, you would have no reason to take me. I heard you tell her I was the leash you would use to keep her tied to you. So you do wish to keep her bound to you. If you¡¯d stop pretending otherwise, we might manage a productive conversation.¡±

    ¡°I find your arrogance intriguing. I can do what I want to you, and you know it. Yet you speak this way to me.¡±

    ¡°I think you cannot kill me. Not until next Hallows¡¯ Night. You might be better asking yourself, how can we be allies?¡±

    My sire laughed. ¡°You are entirely delightful. More arrogant than the male who was with Tara Bell, but just as talkative and defiant. The difference is that he had never touched Tara Bell while you have had sex with my daughter. You realize, of course, I will have a claim on any children you sire on her.¡±

    Blessed Tanit! I hadn¡¯t thought of that!

    Judging by Vai¡¯s suddenly pinched expression, he hadn¡¯t either.

    We knew the mansa of Four Moons had a claim on any children we might have until we could find a way to release ourselves from clientage. To condemn our children to the chains my sire had already shackled me with was unthinkable. Yet to gauge by the narrowing of his eyes and the tension in his jaw, the idea of never having children was to Vai unendurable.

    ¡°Ah, now I have trapped you,¡± said my sire with a pleased smile. ¡°That wasn¡¯t nearly as difficult as I feared it might be.¡±

    Horribly, as they had in my dream, his body and face melted, flowing into another face and another body. He became a creature who looked exactly like me, with my thick black hair pulled into a braid. I saw Vai¡¯s gaze drawn as by a spell down the length of the braid to the span of her hips. The creature¡¯s lips were slightly parted as if she was thinking of eating or speaking, and I couldn¡¯t be sure which, but either way she looked as if she was inviting a kiss. She was dressed exactly as I had been when in the coach with him, in a faded length of cloth wrapped to make a skirt and in a damp lawn blouse so thin and threadbare where it clung to the curve of her breasts that the shadow of her nipples showed through the cotton. Was that how I had looked when I had stepped down out of the coach on the ballcourt on Hallows¡¯ Night?

    Vai inhaled sharply.

    Desperately, I tried to open the door, but the numbness in my lips had infested my whole body. All I could do was watch through gremlin eyes.

    The creature who looked like me leaned closer to Vai. The neck of her blouse gapped open to reveal no bodice beneath, nothing but bare skin. Vai pressed back against the seat.

    Her hands wandered up the front of his dash jacket.

    ¡°Sire a child on me,¡± the creature said in a voice like mine but nothing like mine, because its whisper was cruelly seductive, ¡°and I¡¯ll leave any children you sire on her alone.¡±

    Vai spoke in a hoarse murmur. ¡°You can¡¯t bear children. You¡¯re a man.¡±

    ¡°Do I feel like a man?¡±

    Her lips brushed his. Her knee eased between his thighs and her hands spanned his shoulders to draw him into her kiss. Breasts brushed his chest. Vai became as rigid as if he had turned to ice. I guessed he was angry at himself for being aroused.

    I could scarcely blame him. If I hadn¡¯t known I was me, I would have thought I was her.

    If I¡¯d had a body and an axe, I would have smashed in my sire¡¯s head.

    ¡°No,¡± Vai said against its lips, his mouth unyielding.

    ¡°But you want me,¡± the Master of the Wild Hunt said in my voice, like a purr of desire.

    Her voice, her hands on him, were claws digging into my flesh, yet I could do nothing.

    ¡°No.¡± Vai¡¯s voice was clear and cold. ¡°I want her. There is a difference.¡±

    ¡°What difference would that be?¡±

    ¡°The shape you wear is an illusion.¡±

    ¡°When she comes for you, as you and I both know she is trying to do right now, how will you know if it is she or I who grasps you close and whispers words of hope and love?¡±

    Vai relaxed. My sire did not know the secrets of the djeliw and bards, with their wholly human magic. He did not know about the way our marriage had bound us. He did not know I wore a locket.

    ¡°I admit I can tell no difference between you and her,¡± Vai said, a cunning statement that had the advantage of being truth because words can have two meanings. ¡°But right now I know you are not her. I will not do this.¡±

 Page 26

    My sire sat back into the other seat, melting back into his young male form, a finger tapping his lips as he considered his captive.

    Vai ran a hand down the buttons of his dash jacket, straightening and smoothing, an action that apparently calmed him. I had not been so steadfast in withholding my kiss from the opia.

    As this uncomfortable thought chased me, I heard the rumble of wind. The coach rocked and swayed as if caught in the tidal currents of the spirit world. As I clung, barely hanging on, I suddenly remembered why the Master of the Wild Hunt used this coach. In the spirit world, the tides of dragons¡¯ dreams altered the landscape and any creatures caught out in it. But the coachman had been made in the mortal world by the cunning artifice of goblins. He, and the coach and four horses that were a part of him, could not be changed. To travel in the coach was to be safe from the altering tidal waves.

    ¡°What do you really want?¡± Vai asked.

    ¡°I want what I am required to want. I do the bidding of my masters, just as you no doubt do the bidding of yours.¡±

    ¡°The servants of the night court answer questions with questions, and you do not. I would like to know who or what the Master of the Wild Hunt calls master.¡±

    ¡°Do not doubt my intentions. If she cannot rescue you, you will be the next sacrifice.¡±

    ¡°Not until the next Hallows¡¯ Night,¡± said Vai in the clipped tone he used when he was particularly wound up. ¡°So I ask again, if you intend to kill me, what chance is there I would ever agree to sire a child on you if it would gain me nothing? If you do kill me, how can I sire a child on your daughter, if a child born to your daughter is what you require? Neither of these things can be accomplished unless you free me, allow me to return to her, and promise me you¡¯ll never hunt me down.¡±

    ¡°A well-argued point. Why would I need you at all? I could sire a child on her myself.¡±

    The words hit like a punch in the chest. Fingers slipping, I almost lost my grip on the latch.

    So fast I didn¡¯t see it coming, Vai swung up his sword and stabbed my sire.

    He aimed for up under the ribs to the heart, a move he¡¯d no doubt been taught by rote by the mage House¡¯s swordmaster. But the close confines of the coach and my sire¡¯s astonishingly fast reflexes¡ªan arm flung up¡ªdeflected the blow. The tip slid into the meat of my sire¡¯s right shoulder.

    Pain pierced like steel sliding into my own flesh.

    I screamed. A howl rose, shuddering around me and through me: Every creature bound to the Master of the Wild Hunt by blood felt the cut of that blade.

    My sire grabbed the blade with his left hand. A clear ichor oozed from his shoulder. The translucent liquid dribbled down the length of the blade. The fingers of my left hand flamed with agony. I was barely holding on with my right, hanging over the abyss.

    My sire did not let go of the sword. He raised his right hand to squeeze Vai¡¯s sword arm. Eyes flared with fury, he spoke in a terrifying whisper. ¡°What is done to me, I do to her. That was her cry of agony.¡±

    Vai froze, struck between horror and disbelief. With a single tug, my sire pulled the sword out of his shoulder and shoved the blade against Vai¡¯s throat.

    I choked out a wordless cry. The screams and whimpers of the pack echoed me, their pain and my pain churning like so many merging currents until I was almost obliterated. Vai¡¯s hand spasmed on the hilt of the sword as he fought uselessly against the paralysis washing through him.

    ¡°It would have gone better for you if you¡¯d stayed amusing. I¡¯d have sheltered you then, at least until next Hallows¡¯ Night. Now you¡¯ve made me angry. I¡¯m throwing you into the pit. No mortal can survive there.¡±

    I struggled to open the latch, but my limbs had no strength. I was as frozen as I had been in my dream. Frost crackled out from the ichor that seeped from my sire¡¯s wounded shoulder, like winter devouring the dying memory of summer. Its lacework beauty ate through the human form my sire had taken. Ice engulfed the interior of the coach, consuming every morsel of space that was not the coach itself. Ice entombed Vai, so cloudy and dense I could see only the line of steel that marked his sword.

    Last of all, ice crystals bristled down the length of the latch. With a whimper of fear the outside latch gremlin shut its eyes, leaving me alone in the dark.

    9

    Yet instead of falling, I held on. Nothing, not even my sire¡¯s vile threat, could make me give up. The rocking ceased, and I found myself back on the tree as abruptly as if I had never left it. Clutching the nub of a broken branch, I heaved myself up, gritting past the blaze of pain in my right shoulder and left hand. The pain told me that what I had witnessed was real, not a dream.

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    As I climbed, the air changed texture, stirred by a guava-scented wind. I emerged into the hollow trunk of a ceiba tree so huge that the buttressing of its aboveground roots rose like the pillars of a house over my head. The chittering of Rory¡¯s captors echoed around me, but I could not see them. I sought threads of shadow to conceal myself, but here in the spirit world the shadows were like eels, too slippery to hold. Skulking in the tangle of roots, furious and almost weeping at losing Vai when I had come so close to him, I probed at my shoulder. Just below the collarbone rose a puckered scar, tender to the touch. The fingers of my left hand were scored with whitened scars, cleanly healed. The ache subsided to that of an injury sustained days ago instead of moments. The speed of healing was a brutal reminder of how time passed differently in the spirit world, where an hour might equate to days in the mortal world and a day to months. How much time had passed in the mortal world just while I climbed the tree? How far away was Vai now?

    Hidden within the roots, I peered onto open ground, my first glimpse of the spirit world here in Taino country. In the heavens, no sun or moon shone. The sky had a silvery-white sheen like the inside of a conch shell. Straight ahead lay a monumental ballcourt where figures played batey, the game so beloved in Expedition and throughout the Antilles. The players ran up and down the ballcourt bouncing a rubber ball off thighs or forearms or elbows, never letting it touch the ground. They even bounced the ball off stone belts they wore around their hips, although in Expedition no one used the traditional gear.

    At the end of the ballcourt closest to me rose a stone platform. A man sat there, cross-legged, watching the game. He wore a headdress ridged with feathers as in imitation of a troll¡¯s bright crest, a white cotton loin wrap, and armlets of beaten gold. His septum was pierced by a needle of pale green jade, and he wore dangling earrings carved out of bone. One step below him, a rabbit dressed in a loin wrap was seated at a sloped writing desk with a brush in hand, busily writing in sweeping strokes as its ears twitched.

    I crossed the plaza, climbed four steps, and halted below the lord.

    ¡°You¡¯re the Thunder, the Herald of the storm the people call hurricane.¡±

    ¡°Here you are, Cousin,¡± said the Thunder, unsurprised by my arrival. ¡°By what name should I call you?¡±

    ¡°People call me Cat,¡± I replied, for I knew better than to reveal my full name. ¡°Why did you take my brother?¡±

    ¡°You took a life. We took a life.¡±

    Dread chilled my heart. ¡°Have you killed my brother?¡±

    ¡°Death is merely the other side of the island.¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t the knowledge to debate questions of natural philosophy with you. I just want my brother back.¡±

    ¡°It is time for the match. Batey is the game.¡± He gestured toward the ballcourt. At the motion of his hand, thunder grumbled beneath my feet. ¡°If you score, then we shall give you a chance to stand before the elders and defend yourself against the accusation laid against you. On behalf of the spirit lord you call the Master of the Wild Hunt, you cut a path into our country and allowed him to kill here as if he possessed the right to do so when he possesses no such right. Think how we must look at you, Cousin! We let you walk in our land as a guest, and you betrayed us.¡±

    My head was still spinning with the vision of Vai encased in ice. ¡°So if I score a point, I¡¯ll be allowed to stand trial before a hostile assembly? That¡¯s my chance?¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t choose to speak in your own defense, it¡¯s no skin off my nose.¡±

    ¡°It scarcely seems a sporting game if I¡¯m obliged to play a game I only learned a few months ago against spirits and opia who have played for time uncounted.¡±

    ¡°I freely offer you a gift, Cousin.¡± A skull inset with beads and gems sat by his right knee, and I was sure it was watching me, for its hollow eyes gleamed. ¡°The gift of the skill you would have achieved had you played the game for as long as these others have.¡±

    I had to take the chances I was offered. ¡°That seems fair. I agree only if all responsibility falls to me. If the ancestors find I am not at fault, then my brother and I are both free to go.¡±

    ¡°We are agreed.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll need leather cords to tie up my skirt.¡±

    The rabbit scribe set down its pen and tossed me a rope of braided cords. I untangled the cords and used them to secure my skirt at knee length. I still wore only my sleeveless bodice.

    Thunder himself fitted me with arm guards. There was something not intrusive but intimate in the way he handled my body. He did not loom or leer, but I felt the spark all the same. Loving Vai had opened my eyes to the currents that roil the waters between people who feel attraction one for the other. But while I might have been appreciative, I was not tempted. I smiled to show I understood his game, and I stepped back politely.

 Page 28

    He looked me up and down suggestively. ¡°Do you play with the sword attached? Like a man? It will only get in your way.¡±

    ¡°I will not give the sword into anyone¡¯s hand except my brother¡¯s.¡± Although I looked around the central area, I could not see Rory. ¡°If you bring him to me and let him watch, then I will let him hold it for me.¡±

    ¡°You do not ask what will happen if you do not score a point.¡±

    ¡°I see no need to ask,¡± I said.

    He laughed. A second laugh echoed him in a mist of rain. At the other end of the ballcourt rose another platform. There another man sat cross-legged. He had skin the color of waves and hair like long brown seaweed: It was Thunder¡¯s brother, Flood, he who had almost drowned me when I had been trapped beneath an overturned boat.

    Vai had saved me from the flood.

    Resolve steeled my heart. I would not let them intimidate me. ¡°There¡¯s no reason for me to play if I don¡¯t know my brother is safe.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± said Thunder with a suspiciously amused smile. I scarcely had time to blink before a bedraggled saber-toothed cat appeared under the ceiba tree¡¯s lofty roots. With amber eyes fixed on me, he limped the long painful way to the platform. When he arrived, I examined his shoulder. Like my injuries, the wounds were healing unnaturally fast. I pressed a cheek into the coarse black fur of his head, stroking behind his ears.

    ¡°I give my sword into your care until I come back for it. Wait for my signal. We may have to retreat quickly.¡±

    I lashed the sword to his body, took a swig of the potent ginger beer, and rubbed my nose against his dry one. At last, I descended onto the ballcourt.

    The stone risers, where onlookers sat, swarmed with people and spirits and creatures, some wearing the same form and others shifting through faces as if they had no face of their own. The force of all those gazes made me tremendously uncomfortable, for I preferred the shadows. The players had gathered along the walls of the ballcourt. Most looked as human as I did, but some had the heads of animals or had claws or paws or furled wings. The crowd roared as I looked around to see who would play with me, for alone I could not possibly score. Maybe this was the trick by which Thunder meant to defeat me.

    A man strode out to greet me. ¡°Reckon yee don¡¯ know me, gal. Yee saved me from under a boat.¡±

    I¡¯d only briefly caught a glimpse of the frail old man I¡¯d helped rescue from beneath a boathouse during a hurricane. This man was younger, all sinewy flesh and muscle. He looked like a person who might know how to play batey.

    ¡°My thanks.¡±

    He grinned in a likable way, then whistled. More men and women trotted out from the shadows to join us. One introduced himself as Aunty Djeneba¡¯s deceased husband; others were the deceased relatives of the household or kin of people I had a friendly relationship with in Expedition. They were all the spirits of dead ancestors. I knew it because they had no navels. I thanked them and shook their hands in the radical manner. The more recently dead received the gesture with smiles while the older ones were puzzled, for it was a manner of greeting they¡¯d never before seen.

    The opposing team assembled. A man pushed to the front like a captain coming to lead his troops. He looked exactly as my husband would have if he had been stripped down to the short cotton loin-skirt worn for batey by men. I stared, my mouth gone quite dry.

    He had no navel. Could he be my sire? Was that the trick?

    I whispered into the ear of the dead boatman. ¡°He can¡¯t be the opia of my husband, for my husband isn¡¯t dead. Is he a maku?¡±

    ¡°He smell of cohoba and tobacco, like a Taino lord might. I know not who he is. Peradventure he have taken a dislike to yee and mean to distract yee.¡±

    I could play that game! I took a moment to admire how well the opia had transformed himself into Vai¡¯s skin, for his bare shoulders and chest and thighs really were quite admirable, so I admired them with a lift of my eyebrows that made his lovely eyes narrow as if he were bracing for me to cast a spear that he must bat aside.

    ¡°You don¡¯t frighten me,¡± I said. ¡°Quite the contrary.¡±

    He grinned a challenge.

    Thunder raised a feathered scepter. A ball dropped into the game. The spirit lord who appeared in the form of Vai tapped it up and down on his knees, never letting it touch the dirt. It was no rubber ball. It was a head with black hair tied into a club. Its waxy features stared.

    We were playing batey with the head of the cacica, Queen Anacaona, the mother of the twins Prince Caonabo and the exiled Prince Ha¨¹bey, called Juba.

    But I was the hunter¡¯s daughter. I had to admire their ruthless maneuvering.

 Page 29

    Let it begin.

    I dashed in and caught the head on my elbow, stealing it away from the spirit lord. As I passed the ball to the boatman, I caught the lord¡¯s ankle with a sweep of my leg and tripped him. He fell as I dodged past. He grabbed my ankle, yanked me down hard, and rolled us over so I had my back to the dirt and his weight and attractively bare torso pressed on top of me.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to play fair, are you?¡± I demanded.

    With his lips a breath away from my own, like Vai about to press a kiss onto my mouth, he spoke. ¡°Where do yee think this shall end?¡±

    ¡°Not with you winning!¡± The pulse of the game made my heart race and my blood burn.

    Voices surged like the sea around us. The footfalls of the running players made a constant tremor, shivering out on all sides through the beaten earth of the court.

    I kissed him. His lips were dry; mine were dusty. Surprised by my riposte, he forgot himself, and another face spilled through Vai¡¯s features too quickly for me to recognize before it settled back into Vai¡¯s form. It was definitely not my sire.

    I dug a knee up into his groin and shoved him sideways while he was yelping. As I scrambled up, I scanned the ballcourt. The ball was flying back right at me, the dead face frozen in a grimace. I struck the head with a flip of my hip and angled it toward Aunty Djeneba¡¯s husband. Then we ran, never letting the head drop. The ebb and flow of play meant that the head bounced between sides. Here in the spirit world, the players were too good ever to let the ball touch the ground.

    You would think they did nothing but play across the ballcourt of eternity, and maybe that was all they did. I wouldn¡¯t mind doing that. A gal could play batey all day and lose all track of time if her limbs never grew weak and her throat never croaked with thirst. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart was singing.

    I caught sight of the face of the man who wore the features of my husband. He was smiling arrogantly in exactly that triumphant way Vai had when he knew he¡¯d bested you.

    Noble Ba¡¯al! They meant to distract me by gifting me with the ability to play well enough to keep up with them. I could lose myself in the play for a hundred years and forget everything but the thrill of my pounding heart and my gaze fixed on the ball, seeking an opening. I had to concentrate.

    I ran up beside the boatman. ¡°I need to score a goal,¡± I said.

    He nodded. ¡°We shall position yee up to the western eye. Yee must manage the rest, gal.¡±

    I raced sideways to the west flank of the ballcourt, marked by carvings of owls, as he worked my teammates down the court with the ball between them. So had I helped him once, risking my life for no benefit except that it was the right thing to do. Every time one of our opponents would catch the ball on knee or elbow or hip, my team would steal it back.

    The head spun to me at exactly the right speed and angle. A slap with my elbow sent it flying through the hurricane¡¯s eye, a stone circle.

    The ballcourt dissolved around me into a swirl of angry mist as the helpful opia fled laughing and my opponents cursed and shrieked.

    I stood in a Taino house large enough that it easily sheltered many serious-looking men and women dressed in white cotton and adorned with feather headdresses, beaded collars, and jade bracelets. The roof was lost in shadow far above, sprinkled with lights like stars. Vines grew up the huge wood pillars that held the roof. From the ceiling beams hung painted gourds as vast as ponds and sloshing with fish. A mound of young cassava plants surrounded me. I stood with my sandals in the dirt; leaves tickled my calves. A saber-toothed cat slouched into view behind the seated personages, my sword tied over its back. He turned aside to drink from a pool of water.

    ¡°Rory!¡± I cried. ¡°Never touch food or drink in the spirit world!¡±

    He raised his head to remind me he was a spirit creature. His tail lashed.

    A round object hurtled through the air right at me. Reflexively, I caught it as it thumped into my chest.

    The head of Queen Anacaona had fallen into my arms.

    Her dead gaze met mine in a most disconcerting way. ¡°Speak truth, maku. Speak now before the ancestors. Who is responsible for my death?¡±

    10

    After everything I had done and seen, I really thought it was too much that I could still be surprised. However, good manners always bridge an awkward chasm.

    ¡°Honored Ones! I stand before you like a daughter, who asks for your blessing.¡± I caught the eye of the man who looked oldest and smiled winningly at him, for the smiles of young women could often soften the hearts of old men. He did not look amused, so I quickly retrenched. ¡°I have arrived unexpectedly here, not knowing what you want of me.¡±

 Page 30

    ¡°We want justice,¡± said the head of Queen Anacaona. ¡°You allowed the hunter who rides at the behest of the foreign courts to cross the Great Smoke and raid into our country, resulting in my death. Answer, maku.¡±

    I recollected Keer¡¯s questions, coming at the debate sideways instead of head-on. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have invaded Expedition Territory.¡±

    ¡°Do you scold me, child? The Council of Expedition broke the First Treaty, which their ancestors and ours swore to uphold. That gave the Taino the right and the obligation to invade, to protect our people from diseases like the salt plague.¡±

    Here was an opening I could exploit! ¡°It¡¯s true that Expedition¡¯s Council violated the terms of the First Treaty. But the Council no longer rules Expedition. The people of Expedition replaced the corrupt Council with a new Assembly. It is not justice to punish the Assembly for actions they did not commit.¡± I surveyed the gathered ancestors. They were patient, as the dead can be, but I had an idea they were not going to be patient for long. I had to strike quickly. ¡°Furthermore, you had no right to quarantine me on Salt Island, because I was clean. I was never infested with the salt plague. Isn¡¯t that true? Wasn¡¯t I clean?¡±

    Queen Anacaona¡¯s brown cheeks suffused with natural color, as if blood pumped through them even though she had no heart. ¡°You were clean. And Expedition does indeed have a new government. But both those things are beside the point, as I believe you know. Is it true, or is it not true, that a pack of maku spirit hunters crossed the Great Smoke and raided into our country?¡±

    ¡°What is the Great Smoke?¡±

    ¡°Do they teach the young nothing in your country? The Great Smoke is the ocean of all existence. It embraces all things, just as the ocean of water in the mortal world embraces all lands. It is not easy to cross the Great Smoke, for Leviathan guards it. But it can be done. Long ago, behiques wove a spirit fence around Taino country precisely to keep out the spirit lords from other territories in the spirit world because we did not want them to walk into our lands and disturb us. So let me ask you again. Did the maku spirit hunters cross from your land to ours on a road made of your bone and blood because in your nature and living body you partake both of the spirit world and the mortal world? Was it your presence, your body, that cut a gate in the spirit fence with which we protect ourselves? Did the Hunt enter the land because of you? Speak the truth, maku. Be warned. In this country, lies are knives you wield against your own flesh.¡±

    The ancestors¡¯ gazes pressed against me as if they were invisible blades waiting to cut my flesh to ribbons. I had to tell the truth, but not because of the knives. I had to tell the truth because this was a court of law. One did not lie in such a place.

    ¡°The Hunt did enter your country because I cut a gate in the fence. The Master of the Wild Hunt compelled me to lead him to the dragon dreamer, to my cousin, Beatrice. I never knew there was a spirit fence around your country. I never knew I could cut through it, and that cutting through it would leave your lands vulnerable. For that, I am truly sorry.¡±

    Her gaze had a shine that was not like living eyes but more like polished wood beads. I could almost see my reflection in it. ¡°Who turned the eyes and will of the hunter onto me? Who was the instrument of my death?¡±

    I straightened my shoulders. I was not proud, but neither was I ashamed. ¡°I was clean, yet the noble cacica would have killed me as a salter if I had not asked the Master of the Wild Hunt to kill her first. I acted in self-defense.¡±

    A gust of rain washed through the hall, dissolving the roof and beams and floor and the ancestors themselves. Wet, I found myself standing ankle-deep in clumps of dirt in a field of young cassava plants. A sandy path snaked away into the forest¡¯s canopy, where one tree¡¯s crown rose above the others like a tower. Beside me, Rory sank down on his haunches.

    The head of Queen Anacaona still rested in my arms. The way she watched me, unblinking, made me shift my feet restlessly, but I could not run away from what I had done.

    ¡°What happened to the hall? And the ballcourt?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The lords who sit at the court of justice have released you. You told the truth.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean I¡¯m free?¡±

    Her stare bored into me. ¡°My throne is shaken. My sons are scattered and weak because I was torn from the Taino court at an inauspicious time. My brother the cacique was healing in slow measure and would have survived, but instead he took his last breath. My body is dead because of you. Knowing that, do you feel free?¡±

    Even knowing I¡¯d made the only choice I could, and that I had truly acted in self-defense, I did not feel free. I did not want to be the kind of person who would.

 Page 31

    ¡°Why are you still with me, Your Highness? Is there some task I may perform for you? Somewhere I may carry you? It seems rude to just¡­ plant you here.¡±

    ¡°Take me to my son.¡±

    ¡°To Prince Caonabo in Sharagua?¡± My heart beat faster with excitement, for if we traveled swiftly enough we might reach there in time to spare Bee the ignominy of Caonabo¡¯s casting her off.

    ¡°I am obliged to lend my power to the one who will become cacique.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m angry about his treatment of Bee, but I know how young men hold their honor high. He seems competent and levelheaded to me otherwise. He certainly honors his relationship to you. So I don¡¯t understand why you don¡¯t think he¡¯s worthy of becoming cacique.¡±

    ¡°It is the same as tossing me onto the dirt to speak to me with such disrespect.¡±

    Prudence dictated retreat. ¡°My apologies, Your Highness. If I am to take you to your son, how do we return to the mortal world and Sharagua?¡±

    ¡°I am always surprised by maku ignorance. This garden is the first garden. That is why the ancestors gather here. As for the worlds, the tree links all.¡±

    Of course! The tree.

    Dried blood matted Rory¡¯s thick coat. He circled me once, then sniffed at the cacica¡¯s head.

    ¡°Yes, this is the head of the noble cacica, Queen Anacaona. She will be traveling with us until we can deliver her to Prince Caonabo.¡±

    He gave a low rumble, not quite a snarl. Even injured, he was intimidating, huge, graceful, and deadly. But then he nudged me with his big cat head as if impatient with the sword I¡¯d lashed so awkwardly to his back, and suddenly he was just an annoying older brother whose needs weren¡¯t being met quickly enough for his liking. I took back my sword. A slug of rum from the flask Uncle Joe had provided shot right down through my flesh as a brace of courage.

    I settled the cacica¡¯s head in the crook of my right arm, facing her forward so she could see where we were going. We headed under the shadow of the forest along the path. Birds with bright yellow-and-red plumage flapped away into the foliage. I heard the toa toa croaking of frogs.

    ¡°Where is the fire bane?¡± she asked. ¡°I am surprised he is not with you. He possesses something more valuable than power.¡±

    ¡°Good looks?¡±

    She actually chuckled, and I was pleased I had made her laugh. ¡°Young people are too easily swayed by sex. Let them dance at areitos. It is best for elders to sort out marriages between clans. A shame he was wasted on you.¡±

    Her words pricked me like thorns. ¡°Did he turn down an offer to become one of your many husbands?¡±

    Perhaps she did not hear the sarcasm in my tone, because her reply was as considered as if mine had been a perfectly reasonable suggestion. ¡°He is an unusually powerful fire bane. For that reason a challenge I would have savored.¡±

    ¡°You told General Camjiata there was no fire bane you could not control.¡±

    ¡°Ah! You think I meant to enslave him. That is not what I meant. The people of Expedition call such as me a fire mage.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I know that,¡± I retorted, for she had stung me by saying Vai was wasted on me. ¡°I¡¯ve met other fire mages, like James Drake.¡±

    ¡°Fire mages are not like James Drake. He is a criminal, whatever you may have thought of him.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t like him much, no matter what it may have seemed.¡±

    ¡°I could see the nature of your regret developing on Salt Island. You were foolish.¡±

    ¡°I was scared.¡±

    ¡°You were ignorant.¡±

    ¡°All right, then,¡± I replied grudgingly, because it seemed churlish to argue over such a fine point with a woman who was dead because of a choice I had made. ¡°I was ignorant and scared and foolish. Maybe being all those things was also an excuse to do something I was curious about but wasn¡¯t honest enough to admit wanting.¡±

    Birds fluttered in the trees, plumage flashing through patches of light. My feet crackled on drying leaves. Rory¡¯s breath warmed my back.

    ¡°All of those things,¡± she agreed, ¡°but it appears you can learn. Yet you are not my kinswoman to be offered to eat from the platter of my knowledge. However, I will not allow you to think I meant to enslave the fire bane who is your husband. This much I will tell you. When we weave, we are not weaving fire, we are weaving what the Hellenes call energy and the Mande call nyama and others call the living force. One way it can manifest is as fire. Such dispersal of living force will kill the fire weaver unless she has a way to cast it off.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you use fire banes as catch-fires. People sell them to you as slaves.¡±

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    If it hadn¡¯t been for the fact that I was holding a severed head in my arms, I could have believed myself talking in an ordinary manner with a woman who found me a little tiresome.

    ¡°The fire banes who serve me are not slaves.¡±

    ¡°Prince Caonabo said murderers are sometimes punished by being forced to become catch-fires. Anyway, why would anyone volunteer to do something so dangerous?¡±

    ¡°Fire banes can take into their bodies the energy I release. They throw it into Soraya, which is the name we give to what you call the spirit world. Were I to pour the backlash of my magic into a single fire bane, I should kill her. Even if she is only a funnel, she cannot take all without some spilling into her flesh and burning her up. Over many generations, my ancestors taught themselves how to split these wakes into more than one thread and weave them through more than one fire bane. Thus, all are protected.¡±

    ¡°So the more powerful a fire mage, the more fire banes she needs? I saw the threads of your magic that night on the ballcourt. You wove them through a dozen fire banes. It seemed your net of magic spanned the entire island of Kiskeya and kept your dying brother alive.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. You can see within both worlds, something few can do.¡±

    ¡°I never saw anything like what you could do. It was¡­ impressive, and to be honest, Your Highness, it was rather intimidating.¡±

    This compliment she let pass without blinking. ¡°It is not that other fire mages do not have access to the lakes of energy which I can tap. Many stand at that shore but cannot or will not wade into the deep. My particular skill lies in the quality and precision of my weaving. There is no fire bane I cannot control, no matter how many threads I weave into the whole. But let me assure you, your husband was at no risk from me. I do not take what is not offered, and he did not offer himself. To be honest, the man talked so much about you that at times he became tedious. I expect you would have found his words gratifying.¡±

    A strange, smoky feeling scorched my heart. It was not so easy to wave away responsibility for her death when I was talking to her. It wasn¡¯t that I regretted saving my life or Vai¡¯s life or Bee¡¯s life. It was that I regretted the whole situation we had been forced into. Regret has a way of creeping through flesh and mind the way blood returns to frozen limbs and makes you hurt. If I¡¯d known more or things had fallen out differently, she might have become my ally.

    ¡°What the fire bane has is the same way of thinking I have. He is precise. Methodical. Meticulous. Disciplined. I was astounded that he had the means to douse my weaving. I should like to ask him how he did it. Where is he? For I would have thought he would stay with you.¡±

    Now that she and I were so closely bound, I saw no reason to hide the truth. ¡°The Master of the Wild Hunt stole him from me.¡±

    ¡°The maku spirit lord drank my blood, and then stole the young man. An intriguing strategy. You must ask yourself what the spirit lord wants.¡±

    We came to a wide clearing. At its center rose a ceiba tree whose steepled roots flowed like ridges from a massive trunk. Baskets hung from the big thorns that adorned the lower roots. Some were filled with rotting fruit or with animal flesh turned green and putrid with decay. Others gave off a pleasing scent of herbs and flowers. One was filled to the brim with fresh yam pudding that smelled so sweet and tasty that I licked my lips and barely restrained myself from scooping with my fingers and eating it all up. In one, a tiny little creature with a downy coat of feathers slept, curled up all cozy for a long eternity¡¯s nap.

    I found an empty basket and pulled it off the tree. ¡°With your permission, Your Highness, I¡¯d like to place your head in this basket so I have my hands free to climb.¡±

    To my surprise she smiled, not in a friendly way but in the way a rich woman smiles when a servant brings her just the gown she wanted in the morning. ¡°It is a proper place for me to rest.¡±

    I wove grasses to make a nest that would keep her face angled up, for it seemed undignified to smash her facedown into the basket. A leather cord laced closed the lips of the basket. I fixed its strap around my body alongside the two flasks. Rory licked his foreleg.

    I put a hand on the coarse fur of his neck. ¡°Change into your man form as soon as you can. That¡¯s how we¡¯ll know we¡¯ve crossed back into the mortal world.¡±

    He looked up the thorn-ridden bole of the tree as if to ask me how we were meant to climb, with the lowest branches out of my reach and him with no hands able to grasp.

    ¡°We came in through the roots,¡± I said, ¡°so we go out through the roots.¡±

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    I smeared the last moist dregs of his drying blood onto my fingers, then pricked my forearm on one of the thorns. Its sting burned into my skin. As we crept into the dark hollows beneath the vast architecture of roots, I wiped our blood on the bark.

    Deep in the pit of the tree the shadows melted away into steps ascending. He went first. It quickly grew so dark I had to keep a hand against the curving trunk. My shoulder ached, less sore than before. The grim implication dogged my steps: I could never attack my sire with cold steel if it meant I would harm not just myself but Rory and every other servant of the Hunt.

    ¡°Pah!¡± said Rory, as if he were spitting something out.

    ¡°Rory!¡± My fingers spread across the skin of a muscular back.

    ¡°Ouch!¡± he added. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s strange that it hurts so much when no blade touched us?¡±

    I carefully felt along his shoulder. Where he had been shot a scar had already formed. ¡°At least we¡¯re back in the mortal world.¡±

    He hissed. ¡°Shh! I smell people. I hear them, too.¡±

    We crept through a maze of shallow, stagnant pools, scum slicking our feet. The air was thick with a scent similar to the one I imagined the ancient wrappings of Kemet mummies would have if you were so unfortunate as to be forced to unwrap one in order to clothe yourself. I probed with a foot, my sandal tapping rock.

    He whispered, ¡°I hate it when I have no shoes and the ground pokes my feet.¡±

    ¡°I brought sandals. Put them on.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re such a good sister. Always thinking of my comfort!¡±

    ¡°My comfort, too. Put on these trousers and singlet first!¡±

    ¡°Clothes are so confining. I understand why you wear them when it¡¯s cold, but I see no need for them in a warm place like here.¡±

    ¡°In human society you are meant to clothe yourself except when you are in private.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it would be difficult to pet if one had to wear clothes!¡± He pressed a hand to my cheek. ¡°Your skin is hot, Cat. Are you feverish?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s called blushing. Is the wound on your leg bleeding? No? Then put your trousers on!¡±

    When he had dressed, we moved on. A salt-sea smell tinged with smoke tickled my nose. Light filtered in, too constant to be torchlight and too bright to be candles. We groped along a rock wall on which figures had been drawn in poses of dancing and eating as at one of the festivals the locals called an areito. It was at such a festival with its dancing and food that Vai had won my heart. I could almost hear the ghost of that night¡¯s music in my ears, until I realized I was hearing singing, drums, and the rattle of shaken gourds. A rocky incline dusted with drifting sand gave way to a cave mouth. Its ledge overlooked a massive hollow fitted out with gaslights. From the height of the ledge we gazed across the hollow and through a monumental arch built from massive beams of wood. Through the archway could be seen a magnificent city whose major thoroughfares were illuminated by gas lamps. Right in the center of the city lay the straight lines of a ballcourt and next to it a plaza with high-roofed buildings like administrative offices and palaces. Beyond the city, a full moon glimmered over a flat sea. Masts filled a harbor, and bloated shadows moored to short towers marked airships. The distant jetty was strung with globes, their golden light awash over the dark waters. The entire city seemed to be out celebrating.

    It was the view Bee had drawn in her sketchbook, only without us in it.

    In the hollow below, an areito let loose in full rhythm. People stamped out a dance in lines of men or of women. Revelers stared as we descended into the hollow. A few offered drink or food as if to see if we were solid. I tested several smiles, trying to seem friendly and harmless. We made our way around the edge beneath the gleam of gas lamps. The hollow had once been a cavern, but its roof had long since collapsed. We struggled through the crowded celebration. I grabbed hold of Rory¡¯s jacket and tugged him to a halt as I searched for a route up the other side.

    Away across the crowd, I saw the man wearing a terribly dashing dash jacket in a gold-and-orange brick pattern. He smiled in that aggravating way that made my heart melt, the way he¡¯d smiled when he had said, ¡°How could you not want me, Catherine?¡±

    My limbs turned to stone as he arrowed toward me. Even when a surge of laughing people cut off my view, freeing me from the chain that linked our gazes, I could not move.

    Then there he was, standing right in front of me, looking exactly like Vai except that he was not wearing shoes or even sandals. The bare feet were a dead giveaway.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± I demanded. ¡°What do you want?¡±

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    11

    ¡°Rory, is that our sire?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Our sire?¡± Rory took several deep sniffs. All I could smell was the bloom of ripe guava and a whiff of tobacco. ¡°No. That¡¯s not his smell. It couldn¡¯t be him anyway. Our sire can only cross into the mortal world on Hallows¡¯ Night.¡±

    The opia¡¯s lips quirked up. ¡°Yee¡¯s caused a deal of trouble for me, gal. I know what yee carry in that basket. I shall make it worth yee while if yee don¡¯ deliver the head of the cacica to the Honored Caonabo, he who is now cacique over all the Taino people.¡±

    ¡°Caonabo is cacique already?¡±

    ¡°This is his coronation areito, here and everywhere in Taino land.¡±

    ¡°But I promised I would deliver her head to her son.¡±

    ¡°So yee shall. Yee shall deliver her head to Ha¨¹bey, not to Caonabo.¡±

    ¡°Ha¨¹bey was exiled after he was bitten by a salter. He can never return to the Taino kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Yee don¡¯ know everything.¡± He slid an arm around my waist and pulled me close. Cursedly, he felt exactly like Vai as he murmured in my ear, ¡°Nevertheless, I¡¯s willing to make yee a deal. For ¡¯tis certain Ha¨¹bey is gone over the ocean where I cannot reach him.¡±

    ¡°Cat,¡± said Rory.

    ¡°How long ago did the general and his army leave?¡± I cried with alarm. ¡°How long have we been in the spirit world?¡±

    ¡°The reckoning of days and months mean little enough to me.¡±

    ¡°Cat,¡± said Rory.

    I pulled out of the opia¡¯s appealing grasp. ¡°I promised to deliver the head. Then my cousin can help me get back to Expedition. I have to get a ship to Europa.¡±

    ¡°What if I could get yee to Europa? Right now? If yee do as I ask and promise to take the cacica¡¯s head to Ha¨¹bey?¡±

    ¡°Cat!¡±

    I was hallucinating Bee¡¯s voice.

    Rory tugged on my arm. I looked round to see Bee plowing through the crowd. She was hauling the smaller of Vai¡¯s wooden travel chests with the aid of a grinning Taino man who was wearing an embroidered loincloth, bronze anklets and bracelets, a beaded necklace, a feathered cap, and nothing more. His friends followed along, dressed in a similarly appealing style. Like me, Bee wore an amply cut Europan skirt, good for striding, but a sleeveless bodice in the Expedition manner because, although it was night, it was plenty warm. She, Rory, and I stuck out like the maku we were, but no one seemed to mind.

    ¡°Bee!¡±

    She halted, face flushed and curls in disarray. What I assumed was a pretty ¡°Thank you¡± in Taino dismissed the young man. After looking over me and Rory, he retreated to his amused friends.

    ¡°Here you are, Cat! I was afraid to leave the chest because James Drake saw it and threatened to burn all of Andevai¡¯s clothes. If there¡¯s one thing you can trust about that man, it¡¯s that he hates your husband and he could easily do it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s two things,¡± said Rory.

    She skewered him with a black gaze. ¡°You get to haul it all the way back!¡±

    ¡°Where are we?¡± I had to pitch my voice to be heard above the rattle and song. ¡°Why are you talking to James Drake?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re in Sharagua. I¡¯ve been divorced and cast off. And here you are, in the middle of the areito on coronation night. I saw our meeting here in a dream. I¡¯ve made arrangements for us to travel with General Camjiata¡¯s army to Iberia.¡±

    I looked around. The opia had vanished.

    Bee grabbed my wrist, yanking as if she meant to rip my arm out of its socket. ¡°Cat! We have to go! A carriage is waiting outside. The tide waits for no man, and not even for me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going with General Camjiata! Why is he in Sharagua?¡±

    ¡°For the coronation. Anyway, of course he wants me to return with him to Iberia and help him win his war.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t trust him!¡±

    ¡°The situation is not as simple as you think it is. Where did you get this?¡± With her usual disrespect for my belongings, she pulled the basket around and began unlacing it. ¡°These sort of baskets are only ever used by behiques.¡± She pried open the top of the basket, pulling back her hair with a hand so it didn¡¯t fall in her eyes. ¡°Cat,¡± she said in an altered tone, ¡°why do you have a skull?¡±

    Blessed Tanit! Hair, skin, the usual appurtenances of flesh and life had vanished to leave a bone-white skull. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a skull before. It was more like the head of the poet Bran Cof, only more commanding and less rude.¡±

 Page 35

    ¡°Look!¡± Rory pointed to the arch.

    A dozen foreigners pushed into view. Falcatas swung from their hips, half concealed in the knee-length folds of their dash jackets. I recognized Captain Tira¡¯s broad shoulders and short black hair instantly, not to mention the way she swept the crowd with a searching gaze.

    ¡°Gracious Melqart!¡± I said to the air. ¡°Where is that cursed opia?¡±

    ¡°Seem a better offer now, don¡¯ it?¡± he said behind me in a tone I could only describe as gloating.

    I spun to face him, clasping the basket shut. ¡°How can I know you¡¯ll keep your word?¡±

    ¡°I give yee me word of honor as a Taino man,¡± the opia said. ¡°Besides that, which is truly all yee need, I shall help yee get to Europa because I want the cacica¡¯s head to go to Ha¨¹bey together with a message that he need to come home. So yee see, gal, I¡¯s helping me own self. Yee¡¯s just the messenger I have at hand.¡±

    Such sweet words: help yee get to Europa. But I had to rein in my galloping heart. ¡°I promised Queen Anacaona to take her head to Caonabo.¡±

    ¡°So yee shall. When yee give the head to Ha¨¹bey, he shall bring it home to Caonabo.¡±

    Blessed Tanit! I shuddered with hope. ¡°What about my cousin? Her blood won¡¯t give her passage into the spirit world. She can only cross through water. Anyway, the creatures of the spirit world hate her and want to kill her.¡±

    ¡°Peradventure them in Europa do, but our ways are different in this part of the world. As for the dreamer, the pools yee waded through shall give her passage. I shall take yee back that same way.¡±

    ¡°Cat, who are you talking to?¡± demanded Bee.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you see him?¡± Rory asked. ¡°Are you blind, Bee?¡±

    ¡°Not too blind to kick you. Cat, who are you talking to?¡±

    The opia wearing Vai¡¯s face smiled in the smug way Vai had when he knew he was about to be proven right. ¡°Best make up yee mind quick quick, gal. Here they come.¡±

    Captain Tira spotted me across the dancing crowd.

    ¡°Very well,¡± I said. ¡°In exchange for you delivering us safely to Europa, I will deliver the cacica¡¯s head to Ha¨¹bey with the message that he is free to return from exile.¡±

    The opia replied with an impatient smile so unlike any of Vai¡¯s expressions that I knew I was seeing a glimpse of the man he had once been. Yet he twined his fingers through mine just as Vai had done and drew me back the way we had come.

    ¡°Rory, get the chest,¡± I called over my shoulder. ¡°Bee, are you coming with us, or going with the general? You better come with us. I want you to. Please.¡±

    ¡°Of course I¡¯m coming with you!¡±

    We danced and dodged around revelers oblivious to the chase. They smiled and clapped to include us. As we climbed the narrow path toward the cave, a rifle went off, followed by a rousing cheer from the crowd, who evidently thought it part of the celebration.

    We had no sooner ducked into the cave mouth than about twenty Iberians ran up in our wake. The opia vanished in a scatter of sand. I drew my sword.

    ¡°Stay back,¡± I said to the soldiers. ¡°Rory, take off your clothes and give them to Bee. That will surprise them.¡±

    ¡°Blessed Tanit!¡± cried Bee. ¡°Don¡¯t take off¡­ you¡¯re not really going to¡­¡±

    She broke off with an audible gasp as Rory stripped. The soldiers halted in confusion.

    ¡°You two go on,¡± I said, keeping my gaze on the soldiers. ¡°Bee, you¡¯ll have to haul the chest when he changes. Stop and wait for me once he¡¯s a cat. Go!¡±

    They went. The soldiers could have rushed us, but the gleam of my sword and Rory¡¯s unexpected disrobing gave them pause.

    ¡°I¡¯m reliably informed by the locals that my sword is an object of power known as a cemi, inhabited by the spirit of my mother,¡± I said in my most amiable tone. ¡°Tara Bell was an officer in the Amazon Corps. Perhaps you knew her or fought beside her.¡±

    Captain Tira pushed through, attended by two men carrying lamps.

    ¡°Catherine Bell Barahal, the general wish to speak with yee.¡±

    ¡°Then why has he sent soldiers after me, if it¡¯s to be a friendly chat?¡±

    ¡°I reckon he thought yee might be a bit recalcitrant.¡± She gestured.

    Four of the soldiers broke ranks to approach me.

    I thrust at the leftmost, pricking his forearm so he yelped and dropped his rifle. As it clattered down, I pressed in past him to jam the hilt of my sword into the chin of the next man, then swung away before he could counter. The third man clubbed at me with his rifle, but I leaped past him and shoved the fourth man into range of the blow.

 Page 36

    The captain shouted a command. Rifles leveled, pointing at me.

    ¡°Stand down, gal!¡± cried Captain Tira.

    A gust of wind roared through the cave with a squall of blown sand. The lamps whooshed out. A rifle went off. The sting of its powder lanced up my nostrils. A hand fastened on my shoulder. I twisted away, grabbed the arm, and bit. The man shrieked, reeling away. Men shouted as the lamps crashed to the ground and shattered with a gush of oil that abruptly flamed into bright fire.

    The scent of guava flooded the air. A person who looked like me raced past them out the cave mouth. To my left stood a third opia looking just like me. Everyone started shouting at once. In the confusion I dashed for the back of the cave. Another gust of wind doused the burning oil, drenching the cave in darkness. I thudded into a man¡¯s body which I knew instantly as Vai¡¯s.

    ¡°Yee brother and cousin is safe. Follow me.¡±

    We splashed through the string of caves up which we had so recently climbed. I stumbled more than once, stubbing my toes on rocks. Blood dribbled down my foot to smear the ground.

    When we passed from the mortal world into the spirit world I did not know. But in the dense night of the cave, a big cat¡¯s body nudged up beside me. A long incisor grazed my hip as my hand slipped across his moist nose. He licked me with a raspy tongue. I giggled.

    ¡°My feet are coated with slime!¡± exclaimed Bee in the darkness. ¡°It¡¯s disgusting.¡±

    I laughed.

    ¡°Shh!¡± The opia pulled me close, lips pressed to my ear. ¡°We¡¯s not out of danger.¡±

    Even knowing I was grasping a stranger¡ªa dead man!¡ªI could not stifle the tremor of arousal I felt at the familiar shape I had my arms around, his strong shoulders, his solid chest. He even had the sawdust-and-sweat scent of Vai as well as the mouthwatering fragrance of guava.

    ¡°Then it¡¯s best if we hurry,¡± I whispered, my irritation at my body¡¯s unwanted reaction making my voice a hiss.

    ¡°We can bide a few breaths here, gal, as long as we bide quiet-like. The maku soldiers cannot venture any deeper into the cave. ¡¯Tis a small reward to ask that yee kiss me, don¡¯ yee reckon?¡± he murmured in Vai¡¯s coaxing voice. His lips brushed my mouth.

    I stiffened my entire body, as Vai had done when my sire had teased him with my form in the coach. ¡°I don¡¯t reckon. Not with my brother and cousin right next to me! And the cacica¡¯s head in the basket.¡±

    ¡°She cannot see with the basket closed up tight, can she?¡±

    ¡°They warned me that opia are dangerous spirits. Why do you appear to me as my husband?¡±

    ¡°Because it vex yee,¡± he whispered, laughter in his tone. ¡°And I like yee when yee is vexed.¡±

    A little stab of laughter shook me. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    He rubbed his cheek against mine, the bristle of beard making me shiver. ¡°Just one kiss like that one yee gave me in yee room in Expedition, when yee thought I was him. Don¡¯ yee think yee owe me?¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t gotten us to Europa yet.¡±

    ¡°For the chance of it, gal.¡±

    ¡°Let me see the face you wore when you were a living man.¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°I like the stubborn way yee never give up.¡±

    Blessed Tanit, but I took the chance of it. Rory didn¡¯t care, the cacica¡¯s head was safe in the basket, and it was too dark for Bee to see anything. I pressed my mouth to his. For a single searing kiss, I pretended I was holding Vai. It was a good kiss, strong and sweet.

    ¡°Cat, where are you? What is going on?¡± Bee¡¯s hand brushed my shoulder like the flutter of a feather across my skin. Her fingers dug into my upper arm. ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    His hand slid down my arm and caught hold of my fingers as he stepped back.

    ¡°Cat, there is someone else here with us,¡± Bee said ominously.

    ¡°He¡¯s an opia. He¡¯s helping us so we can do something for him. Help me carry the chest.¡± I hoisted one end of the chest by its rope handle. ¡°It was very clever of you to bring the chest, Bee.¡±

    ¡°Cleverness had nothing to do with it. It was pure desperation. I¡¯d already hidden the other two when Drake caught me with this one. The moment he saw Andevai¡¯s dash jackets, I saw murder in his eyes. Sartorial murder. I couldn¡¯t bear the thought of all that expensive fabric and fine tailoring blazing into ash.¡±

    ¡°How came you to have all our gear?¡±

    ¡°I got all three chests from Lucretia before I left for Sharagua. I told her I would deliver them to you. Gracious Melqart, Cat. I must ask, how many fashionable dash jackets can one man own?¡±

 Page 37

    ¡°I haven¡¯t yet had the leisure to make an accounting!¡±

    We moved deeper into the night of the spirit world. Vast roots tangled around us.

    ¡°By the way, I¡¯m sorry to mention it, but General Camjiata took your father¡¯s journals.¡±

    This newest betrayal scarcely scratched my already jangling nerves. ¡°Of course he would! At least I know he¡¯ll keep them safe.¡±

    ¡°We need to go quiet here,¡± murmured the opia as we began to descend. ¡°For I would not want any to hear me who might put a stop to the business we¡¯s about.¡±

    ¡°Shh,¡± I said to Bee. My breathing grew ragged as we made our way down within the tree, for I both hoped and feared that I would again grasp the latch and see into the coach where Vai was my sire¡¯s prisoner. But all we did was descend step by step, me holding the opia¡¯s hand as he guided us and Bee linked to me by the chest. Rory padded at the rear.

    I smelled the mire of earth and heard the moan of a conch shell being blown. I heard the thump and patter of batey and the cheering shouts of the crowd as one of the players scored. Yet we did not walk into the ceremonial plaza where I had been before.

    Down we went and down farther yet, past the charcoal scent of a cook fire and a smell of pepperpot that made me lick my lips with hunger. Rory gave a rumble of displeasure, reminding me that he was hungry, too.

    ¡°Don¡¯ stop.¡± The opia fastened his fingers tightly to mine. ¡°We shall go deeper, into the realm of the old ones that lie below all.¡±

    ¡°What is that voice? Where are we going?¡± Bee whispered.

    I had no words with which to answer her. The black void around us was impenetrable. Warm water tickled over my sandaled feet and streamed off. A salty wind with a bellows¡¯ breath hissed against my face like the exhalation of a beast so huge it cannot be seen or touched.

    Was this what it meant to crawl into the maw of Leviathan?

    I felt as if the gullet of a beast were squeezing around me. Sand filtered into my eyes. I blinked, trying to wet away its scrape.

    Beneath my sandals the ground crunched. Glimmers of light shot through the earth like sparks strewn through sand. The walls took on an amber gleam. Rory loped ahead toward a low cave mouth. The shush and sough of a stormy sea sounded from outside. But I did not taste the salt of the ocean. Instead, when I licked my lips, I swallowed smoke.

    The opia stopped.

    Bee and I set down the chest.

    She stared at him. ¡°Blessed Tanit! He looks exactly like Andevai!¡±

    He looked her up and down in a way Vai had never once examined her. A sting of jealousy made my heart flame, for unlike every other man I had ever met, Andevai had never shown the least partiality for Bee, not as all the rest did the moment they laid eyes on her voluptuous beauty.

    ¡°¡¯Tis a shame I can go no farther and thereby get to know yee better, dream walker,¡± he said to Bee. ¡°Ask from the old ones that which they owe to yee.¡±

    ¡°Where are we?¡± I whispered, for I was afraid.

    ¡°We have reached the Great Smoke, where the old ones bide. In the mortal world, in the language spoken in Expedition, it is called the ocean.¡±

    ¡°Have you tricked us? We have no ship on which to sail the ocean.¡±

    ¡°¡¯Tis no trick, for here in the spirit world, it have a different substance,¡± he said in another man¡¯s voice.

    We looked onto the face of a man I had never before met. He was Taino through and through, no mixed-race Expeditioner. He had the long black hair and regular features typical of the Taino. His commanding gaze had a hard measure, but a softness in the line of his mouth suggested that kisses pleased him. He was older than I expected, about the same age as the Europan radical leader and pugilist Brennan Tour¨¦ Du, whom I would have guessed to be in his mid-thirties, a man in his prime. He also looked vaguely familiar.

    ¡°Have we met before?¡±

    ¡°We have not. Yee killed me before we had that chance.¡±

    ¡°I did not kill you! You aren¡¯t one of the salters I killed on Salt Island¡­¡± I trailed off, watching the promise of his mouth tighten to disapproval.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you!¡± cried Bee. ¡°I met you, the first time I went to Sharagua! But you¡¯re dead!¡±

    Had the sun come up at that moment, I would have said that dawn broke upon me. ¡°You¡¯re the cacique! Queen Anacaona¡¯s brother, the one she was keeping alive. You¡¯re Caonabo and Ha¨¹bey¡¯s uncle.¡±

    The crow¡¯s-feet at his eyes deepened as he smiled. ¡°A smart gal, too.¡±

    ¡°No need to mock me. How comes it that you ruled the Taino kingdom and yet speak the language spoken in Expedition Territory, which is but a trifling place compared to the expanse of your noble and mighty empire?¡±

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    ¡°Yee¡¯s got a mouth on yee, gal, that do grate at times. Yet I reckon that man yee seek have the means to keep yee quiet when he get weary of yee talking. If those kisses was anything to go by.¡±

    ¡°A strong man does not need a silent wife,¡± I muttered as my face flamed.

    ¡°Kisses!¡± exclaimed Bee. ¡°When was there kissing? Cat!¡±

    His grin had a taunting flavor. ¡°I lived in Expedition as a lad for some years. It happen that me uncle, him who was cacique before me, favored a cousin as heir instead of me. Me sister Anacaona deemed it prudent to keep me out of sight while she played the music she needed to at court. When me cousin died, I was recalled.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re younger than Anacaona?¡±

    ¡°By fifteen years. She was the first child born to the honored mother who carried us, and I was the last. I reckon that is why she always thought she could give the orders. Here is what yee don¡¯ know. Me sister and me own self never did agree about which of her sons was best suited to be cacique after me. She wanted me to choose Ha¨¹bey because she always favored him. But I wanted him to serve in the army. Caonabo was my choice for cacique all along because he is the steadier man. But me sister the noble cacica is a stubborn woman. She would never see one single change to the law. I respect the ancestors as much as she do. But there come a time when change must happen. We have contained the salt plague with our behiques, and now we have wars to fight elsewhere. I need Ha¨¹bey back from his exile.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s gone ahead to Europa with a small advance party,¡± said Bee.

    ¡°He¡¯s a scout gone to Europa, that is certain. Yee shall take the cacica¡¯s head to him and he shall make of it a cemi. With the cemi of Anacaona in his possession, he shall be allowed to return to the court of Caonabo. War shall come, from the west or the north, from the Pur¨¦pecha Empire or the Empire of the Comanche. I¡¯s not sure. Caonabo shall administer. Ha¨¹bey shall fight.¡±

    At the cave mouth, the big cat put his ears back. The hair on the back of his neck was all a-bristle. Wind spattered burning sparks of sand all the way up the tunnel, so hot Bee and I had to shield our faces. When we lowered our hands and turned back to the cacique, the opia was gone.

    12

    ¡°We¡¯d better go.¡± I picked up my end of the chest.

    Bee stared at the spot where the cacique had been standing, then grabbed the other handle. With the chest swaying between us, we emerged out of the cave onto a beach.

    The sky was as gray as northern slate, and the sea was a churning boil of smoke. Currents and swells roiled the surface, and wind kicked up spills of mist like choppy waves. Whitecaps flicked into existence and vanished. The strand that ought to have been sand was red coals and smoking ash. Only the sandals Vai had gifted me with protected my feet, for although common sense told me the leather ought to be burning, it did not. Bee wore boots. Rory sat in the cave mouth, ears flat, not coming out.

    ¡°I can see why it¡¯s called the Great Smoke.¡± Bee wiped her eyes. ¡°Do you think that could be the mist I walk through when I dream?¡±

    I smacked my lips. ¡°I hope your dreams don¡¯t taste as nasty as this air does. How can we possibly cross that?¡±

    Smoke rushed up from the shoreline exactly like a big wave crashing in. Sulfurous fumes engulfed us. Coughing, I sucked for breath. Surely this was what lungs full of hot tar felt like! Beneath my sandals the ash of the shore hissed. A current like the blast of a furnace dragged at my body. I staggered, boiled off my feet, but the chest anchored me to Bee. She was immovable.

    As quickly as it had poured in, the wave of smoke drained away.

    I blinked gritty tears out of my eyes. Tufts of mist like the dregs of cigarillos bubbled off my limbs and drifted to the sand. We hadn¡¯t moved, but the beach was now smoldering. Fat balls of greasy smoke puffed along its length and rolled downslope into the sea.

    ¡°We should have gone with General Camjiata,¡± said Bee.

    Gagging, I licked a stink of rotting eggs off my lips. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I made a terrible mistake by listening to the opia.¡± I took a step back, but Bee stayed put, tugging me to a halt.

    ¡°No, wait, Cat. Listen! There are voices in the smoke.¡±

    Movement chased through the swirl of the Great Smoke. Shapes flashed beneath the surface, but the churning gray fog obscured their features. All I heard was a bass humming like a hoarse man with a very deep voice singing a single tone.

    A sweep of color washed through the smoky sea.

    ¡°Is it the tide of a dragon¡¯s dream?¡± I croaked, incandescent with terror. I groped for my sword, but it was as inert as lead.

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    Bee¡¯s tone was more breath than voice. ¡°It¡¯s a dragon.¡±

    Night swept down. Lights like fireflies twinkled against a black sky. The sea surged, lifting like cloth raised from beneath by a hand. A bright shape emerged, smoke spilling off it in streams.

    The dragon loomed over us. Its head was crested as with a filigree that reminded me of a troll¡¯s crest, if a troll¡¯s crest spanned half the sky. Silver eyes spun like wheels. It was not bird or lizard, nor was it a fish. Most of its body remained beneath the smoke. Ripples revealed a dreadful expanse of wings as wide as fields, shimmering pale gold like ripe wheat under a harsh sun. When its mouth gaped open, I knew it could swallow us in one easy gulp.

    We had come to a place we ought not to be.

    Awe deadened my heart and silenced my voice as I waited for the leviathan to devour us. Because wasn¡¯t that what they did? Eat foul little creatures like me?

    Bee¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°Greetings, Mighty One! I suppose you are one of those whose dreams I am obliged to wander on my restless nights. It¡¯s very disconcerting. I must say, I could not appreciate that vision of my dearest Cat embracing a man so enthusiastically. There are some things I really do not care to see, and that is one of them. But be assured! I do as I am told. I¡¯m very obedient! Furthermore, I should like to remind you that my cousin and I at great risk to ourselves unearthed a nest of hatchlings in the spirit world. I must suppose that any hatchlings who survive will grow to become such resplendent creatures as you.¡±

    I gaped as the filigree crest flared, tightened, and widened again. Colors flashed through the dragon¡¯s skin like spears from a rainbow.

    Bee went on as in answer to a reply I had not heard. ¡°So, if you please, Honored One, as a favor, and possibly because we have done you a service beforehand, could you please convey me and my cousin here and that cat over there and everything we carry safely across the Great Smoke to the shores of the land we call Europa?¡± She dipped a courtesy. ¡°If you would be so kind.¡±

    Down its head came like the inexorable fall of fate when the unsuspecting victim¡¯s eyes are at last and too late opened to her doom.

    ¡°Don¡¯t run, Cat,¡± said Bee. ¡°Never run. Stand your ground. Look them in the eye. You were right for us to come here. And now I¡¯m right. Trust me.¡±

    I was so scared that I was actually afraid I was going to pee myself. That was the only reason I didn¡¯t run, because I knew if I ran I would lose all my dignity and be very sticky afterward.

    The dragon rested its head on the burning sands. The head alone was as big as a cottage. Its jaw opened to reveal a pale pink tongue. Instead of teeth, its upper mouth was rimmed with what looked like white, hairy combs as long as I was tall.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have teeth,¡± said Bee. ¡°How interesting! So you see, Cat, it can¡¯t eat us.¡±

    I found a croak. ¡°It can still swallow us.¡±

    ¡°Rory!¡± she called, ignoring my perfectly rational observation. ¡°We¡¯re leaving.¡±

    He began to pad away into the darkness of the cave.

    ¡°Rory!¡± I was suddenly more afraid of losing him than of the dragon. ¡°Come. Here. Right. Now.¡±

    Head down, he crawled over to us as if I were dragging him on a leash. Maybe I was. Perhaps I had inadvertently leashed him to my service, just as I had been chained by my sire.

    When he reached me, I extended a hand. He hissed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare bite me!¡± I slapped his nose. ¡°You¡¯re coming with us whether you want to or not.¡±

    His answering growl was more of a pathetic moan.

    ¡°Trust me, Rory.¡± I set a hand on his big head.

    The dragon¡¯s silver eyes had ceased whirling and now, like mirrors, reflected all that lay before it. I saw myself bedraggled, with the basket over my shoulder and my locket and sword like dull lumps of stone. Rory had fluffed out his fur to make himself look bigger than he already was. Bee shone like a queen, as radiant as a lamp.

    I met her gaze in the mirror of the dragon¡¯s eyes. I nodded.

    She exhaled. ¡°Not every young woman gets to march into the gullet of Leviathan.¡± The crack in her voice betrayed her: She wasn¡¯t quite as sure of herself as she meant to sound.

    The dragon¡¯s breath huffed over us, not rancid but sweet, like the aroma of coconut milk as it bakes through a rice pudding. It pushed out its tongue over the ridge of its lip to make a bridge.

    Never let it be said my courage had failed me when put to the test.

    I tightened my grip on the loose skin of Rory¡¯s neck. Together we walked up the slope. The tongue was oddly firm and dry beneath our tread, not at all slimy. Rory again gave that moaning growl as the tongue shifted beneath us. To keep our balance Bee and I set down the chest and held on to it, and I grabbed Rory, as the creature pulled its tongue back inside.

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    We slid backward into the smoke. The jaw closed.

    Darkness fell as a smothering blanket. Strange noises like drones and squeaks drifted at the edge of my hearing.

    Bee and I sat on the chest, clutching each other. Rory leaned against us as if he wanted to climb inside either the chest or us. His trembling shuddered through me. I rubbed his head.

    From my oldest, sleepiest memories I scoured out a song. It whispered in my mother¡¯s raspy voice, scarred by war and pain. I sang in a low voice.

    Sleep, sweet child, as the twilight falls

    As the bright day takes its rest.

    Let the Wild Hunt search, let the Wild Hunt cry,

    I shall hide you at my breast.

    ¡°Cat, are you crying?¡± Bee whispered, pressing her cheek to mine. ¡°What is that lullaby?¡±

    ¡°My mother used to sing it to me.¡±

    The creature moved in a gentle undulation. The air stirred with a rhythmic pulse, in time to the slow drum of its heart, like the breath of secrets untold. Atop it floated a sound like a bell¡¯s resonant ring drawn out as a thread is spun out of a mass of wool. I trembled, struck by such an upwelling of fear at being trapped inside a living beast that I took a slug from my flask of rum for fortitude. The only way to battle the fear was to talk.

    ¡°Bee, how could you think I would go with Camjiata? He probably meant to throw me overboard once we were out of sight of land.¡±

    She tensed. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. He told me you¡¯ve never given him a chance to properly explain. He got you exiled to Salt Island to protect you.¡±

    ¡°To protect me?¡± I snorted. ¡°How can he say these things? And with such sincerity! It¡¯s like a disease with him. Protect himself, he means, since he believes I will be the instrument of his death.¡± Rory gave a rumble and nosed against me as I went on. ¡° ¡®Where the hand of fortune branches, Tara Bell¡¯s child must choose, and the road of war will be washed by the tide.¡¯ The general thinks my choice will be to kill him. But I already made a choice on Hallows¡¯ Night at the ballcourt. I was the instrument of the cacica¡¯s death, not his.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what he thinks.¡± Bee¡¯s tone wound like darkness, mellow and soft. The heat made me yawn. ¡°He thinks it¡¯s the choice you made between Andevai Diarisso and James Drake, between cold mage and fire mage. James Drake has an ugly, unpredictable temper that might have been soothed by the love of a good woman.¡±

    ¡°I hope he did not really say that, and in those nauseating words.¡± I took another slug of rum. ¡°The point is, the general could have entirely misunderstood his wife¡¯s words about Tara Bell¡¯s child. She wrote down her dreams in garbled poetry. He interprets everything as having some relationship to him. I¡¯m quite sure the dream has nothing to do with me choosing between two men¡­ what a tired story that would be!¡±

    Yet what if it referred to the same choice my mother had been forced to make? What if my sire meant to force me to sleep with him to save Vai¡¯s life, as he had forced my mother to have sex with him to save the lives of Daniel and the other men in the Baltic Ice Expedition?

    ¡°Cat, why are you shaking? I¡¯m sorry I said anything.¡±

    I swallowed a huge gulp of rum. Some things I refused to speak of even to Bee. ¡°The point is, James Drake has stayed alive this long by murdering unwilling people as catch-fires. Beggars, the rootless poor, people no one will miss. Salters and dying men. Meanwhile, the general means to allow Drake to go on killing people as long as it helps him win the war he means to wage in Europa. That¡¯s why Drake obeys him, because he knows Camjiata will turn a blind eye to his crimes. Who will miss enemy soldiers who perish in war? So how can we trust Camjiata, knowing he employs a criminal like James Drake?¡±

    ¡°Listen! After Caonabo divorced me, I went to the general. I really didn¡¯t have anywhere else to go, as you can imagine. Of course I demanded to know what his intentions are toward you. He promised me that you have nothing to fear from him. Your life is his life. As long as you are alive, he knows he is alive. The general has offered us employment as spies and couriers in his army.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not spying for the general!¡±

    ¡°How do you plan to eat? In what bed do you plan to sleep with your handsome husband? Do you have any money at all, Cat?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I admitted sullenly. I groped for the flask, but Bee had hidden it. ¡°Didn¡¯t Caonabo give you a dower, some pittance from the Taino treasury?¡±

    ¡°Why, yes, he rewarded me very generously. I was granted the right to collect taxes from two towns on the northern coast of Kiskeya. It¡¯s a fine income, but one I have no access to. I received also several thousand cowrie shells, which make me quite wealthy in the Taino kingdom but are worth nothing in Europa. A chest full of exceptionally fine cloth, as well as several crates of excellent tobacco. All of which are on the ship you and I were meant to sail on, together with Vai¡¯s other chests. We¡¯re destitute, Cat. We haven¡¯t a single sestertius to our name. All we have is the gear that is in this chest, which fortunately is the one Luce packed for you.¡±

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    I crossed my arms fumingly. ¡°I don¡¯t even know how I¡¯m going to rescue Vai.¡±

    ¡°I do have some gold jewelry I can sell,¡± she mused. ¡°The dash jackets can be sold. We won¡¯t starve, not for a while. But those things will run out. At least hold the general¡¯s offer in reserve, just in case we need it.¡±

    Every road led away into darkness, and while normally I could see unusually well in the dark, my eyes could not penetrate the future. I yawned again, eyelids drooping. The heat made me sleepy. Rory was sprawled out like a big warm comforting purr. He snored in a catlike way with little huffs between times as if he was dreaming of chasing down plump deer. Bee and I leaned against his belly. The rocking motion of the beast had a soporific effect.

    I rested my head against hers. ¡°Whatever happens, I love you, Bee. Always.¡±

    ¡°Always,¡± she whispered, holding my hand.

    My eyes closed. I sank into sleep.

    As in a dream, I bucketed through the heavens on the back of a horse whose coat was as black and sticky as tar. I braced the butt of a spear against my booted stirrup. My arms were bare, the skin marked with blue coils like the ink-painting common among the Celts. With a hawk¡¯s sight I saw our prey running, a girl with long hair streaming out behind her. Her blood smelled of smoke and dreams, and as we galloped up alongside her, I thrust my spear into her back and brought her down. With my hands gripping the spear, I swung off the horse. She was thrashing, trying to crawl, trying to live. I pressed a foot onto her back to trap her and wiped my fingers through the blood pumping out of the wound. Brought it to my lips.

    The blood was redolent with the fragrant bloom of powerful cold magic as mouthwatering as spice. But it was not mine to drink. I owed it to my masters. The chain that bound me to them dragged me back toward their presence.

    A voice was murmuring, honey words luring me away from the kill. Vai¡¯s kisses sweetened my lips and warmed my flesh. His hands measured the map of my body, fingers tracing each curve as he rolled me over on the bed he had built for us.

    I stirred, eyes opening as my hands reached for him.

    The basket gaped open and empty across my lap. I blinked, trying to focus, for I was back in the belly of the beast. Its comblike teeth shone with a phosphorescent gleam.

    By this light I saw Bee talking to Queen Anacaona. The dead flat shine of the cacica¡¯s eyes had deepened to a warm brown.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand, Your Highness. Is the Great Smoke the ocean of dreams through which I walk in my dreams?¡±

    ¡°Yes. The Great Smoke is the ocean of all existence. The currents which we call past, present, and future mingle together in the sea of mist.¡±

    I was so hungry and hot. I was not meant to journey through the ocean of dreams. My senses rebelled at the stink and the threat.

    The dragon¡¯s smoky breath trawled me under, back into sleep. I plunged into the slippery dance of the old ones, the most ancient Taninim. Their intertwining movements created currents that streamed through the smoke like rivers. A ripple caught me, pulling me into a dream so vivid it did not seem like a vision but rather like my body and sight cast into another time and place.

    General Camjiata stood with his hand on a door latch. Behind him, the view out an attic window overlooked a town square and a stone castle tower rising above green trees. His hair was tied back with an incongruously bright-green ribbon that matched the old-fashioned bottle-green dash jacket he wore, its cuffs trimmed with lace. He addressed me with a serious look that quite disarmed me. Who would offer such a direct and confiding gaze to an enemy?

    ¡°I need you to kill him. You¡¯re the only one who can.¡±

    Golden spears of late-afternoon sunlight lanced into my eyes, blinding me as he opened the door into a lamplit chamber beyond. Darkness smoked up on all sides.

    I did not want to be a killer. If only the Master of the Wild Hunt had not been my sire, I would not have had such dreams. Yet if he had not sired me, I would not be what I was. If I had not been what I was, I would not have escaped the mansa. I would have been dead long before I had been forced to make the choice that had killed the cacica. We are bound to our ancestors and to those who made us, whether we want to be or not. What matters is what we make of what we are.

    I opened my eyes, back in the belly of the beast. Bee and the cacica were still conversing.

    ¡°Do you wish Caonabo had thrown away his honor merely to please you?¡± Queen Anacaona spoke not with anger, not with pity, but as if pressing Bee to find the answer to a riddle.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that! But he ought not to have gone after Cat in that way. He shouldn¡¯t have cooperated with James Drake and the general.¡±

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    ¡°Open your eyes, selfish girl. It isn¡¯t about you. There are greater battles awakening in the world. Those who have developed a thirst for blood cannot easily be turned aside from their insatiable appetites, no matter whom they harm. The old ones move slowly, but they fight to protect their young.¡±

    ¡°You speak in riddles,¡± Bee said. ¡°What does that all mean?¡±

    I slid into the fog of dreams as if in the belly of Leviathan I, too, became a dragon dreamer. Streaming rivers of mist welled up from the deep, currents flowing in vast circles that penetrated close to the gleaming surface before pouring away into darker, smokier depths. Swimming shapes brushed me, hot and cold by turns, rough to the touch and then slickly smooth like eels slithering in coils around and around me.

    I startled awake, shuddering, to find myself lying in Vai¡¯s arms on the bed he had built for us. His embrace was so strong and comforting that I could have reclined in its orbit forever and not missed the world.

    ¡°Catherine,¡± he murmured in a drowsy, contented voice. ¡°You were dreaming and mumbling. It sounded like ¡®There are greater battles awakening in the world.¡¯ What is it, love?¡±

    The feel of his body stretched the length of mine, his skin to my skin, made me want to purr with simple pleasure. ¡°I dreamed I was swallowed by a dragon. And now I have to pee. Do you think those two things are related?¡±

    Chuckling, he kissed me on the lips. After stroking a hand along the length of my torso, he kissed me again, and then longer and with more concentration, until I really did have to get up even though he clearly had other activities on his mind. He rose with me.

    ¡°We¡¯ll go the washroom,¡± he said, swinging me up into his arms. My hip pressed against his belly. ¡°We both need a wash.¡±

    I giggled, for the night was warm and the room stuffy despite an open window, and we were both sweaty. ¡°It¡¯s the middle of the night.¡±

    ¡°All the better. No one to disturb us.¡± A pinch of light sparked into existence. Cold fire swelled to a fist-size bubble whose light dappled the clothes strewn over the floor beside the bed.

    I brushed my cheek against his short-shorn beard, the hair just long enough to tickle instead of scratch. ¡°You must spend hours getting your beard to look just this decorative way.¡±

    When he looked at me with a smile of tenderness and mischief mixed so sweetly, I could scarcely breathe, much less think. ¡°Why, Catherine, you were watching me all that time, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    The currents ripped me away from him just as I realized I was dreaming the night we had consummated our marriage. I flailed and kicked, for I was determined to get back to him, but a whirlpool dragged me down into the crushing abyssal deeps.

    Like a gull hovering in the wind, I floated over a rocky path strewn with boulders and pocked with ice. A towering cliff of ice studded with rocks filled the horizon: It was the wall of a vast ice shelf. A gray sea lapped a narrow strand of stony beach. In the shelter of a shallow cave, two longboats had been overturned out of reach of the waves and covered with canvas staked to the earth. Three men with ragged gloves fumbled with stakes and canvas, uncovering one of the beached boats and its treasure of oars and oilcloth. The wind was coarse and unforgivingly cold. They worked frantically as the howls of approaching wolves grew in volume.

    On the path that led up a steep incline to the crumbling foot of the glacial shelf stood a hatless woman. She wore a rumpled, dirty uniform and grasped a bloody falcata in her gloved left hand. Her dark red hair was pulled back into a braid and pinned in a coil at the back of her head. Fresh red welts marked a sun-weathered face brushed with freckles. Blood oozed down her cheek and neck. Someone else¡¯s blood was splashed across the front of her uniform coat, and drying blood soaked her knees, as if she¡¯d knelt in blood. Her right sleeve was torn to ribbons, exposing a bleeding shoulder and arm. Her ragged breath came in gouts of mist in the freezing air.

    Behind her a man with curly black hair as lush and thick as Bee¡¯s knelt to crank back the ratchet of a crossbow. He had two bolts remaining in his quiver but no other visible weapon. Four dead dire wolves littered the path, marking the trail of a pursuit. About fifty steps above lay a dead man in a soldier¡¯s kit. His corpse was mottled crimson, his belly slashed open and spilling guts. A dying wolf twitched beside him, pink spume riming its muzzle. A falcata had been thrust up to the hilt into its right eye, the tip sticking out through the back of its neck.

    High up on the path, three shaggy wolves nosed into view, sniffing the air.

    The woman spoke. ¡°More are coming.¡±

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    The man looked first at her and then higher, up the trail, to the wolves. Both had muzzles smeared with viscera, as if they¡¯d been eating. With the loaded crossbow, he rose to stand beside her. She was tall, big-boned, and confident in her strength even in the face of snarling death. He was a little shorter, with a build meant to be stocky but made lean by privation.

    I recognized them. His youthful, smiling face adorned the portrait in my locket: Daniel Hassi Barahal, the man who considered himself my father. I had never seen any likeness of Tara Bell, but despite the dark red hair and blue eyes, she looked so like me that I knew she had to be my mother.

    ¡°If it¡¯s necessary to hold a last rear guard to get the boat out, you and the others must leave me.¡± She spoke as a shopping woman with many more errands ahead might remark that the family could afford fish for supper but not beef.

    ¡°I think it unlikely we shall do so.¡± I admired the warmth of his laugh. He had deep lines at his eyes, the mark of a man who would rather joke than scowl. ¡°Who will mend our clothes if we don¡¯t have you to do it for us?¡±

    She actually rolled her eyes, and her lips twitched even as her gaze tracked the wolves. ¡°You must be tired, for that¡¯s not your cleverest jest. As if you cared one jot about your clothes, except that they not fall off and expose your shapely arse.¡±

    ¡°So you did notice! I thought you were asleep.¡± He added, with a laugh more reckless than amused, ¡°You¡¯ll not shake me loose. If you¡¯re pregnant, we will face it together.¡±

    When she caught his gaze, my child¡¯s heart wept. Was that love in her expression? Loyalty? Exasperation? I knew so little about my mother, but right then I knew she trusted him.

    ¡°If we escape, I will return to my regiment. I honor my obligations. My oath belongs to my commander. I cannot abandon my comrades. You know you are not the only one I love.¡±

    ¡°I do not ask you to abandon anyone, Tara, nor to choose me above any other. I only ask you to remember the oath I make to you now.¡±

    He stole a kiss, pressed lightly at the corner of her mouth. Briefly she caught him with an answering kiss, then she pushed him away, and he stepped back with a smile.

    Her gaze tracked the wolves. ¡°They will never stop hunting me.¡±

    His smiling expression vanished. ¡°My oath is this. If we get out of this, if you need me, then you need only get word to me. I will come for you, and for the child if there is one. No matter who or what hunts you.¡±

    The men at the longboat cried out in triumph as they found it seaworthy and its equipment intact. Shouting, they called three names¡ªTara! Daniel! Gaius!¡ªand I realized they did not yet know the man on the path above was dead, for they could see nothing of what had occurred in the rear guard.

    With her bloody arm, my mother pulled him against her. She kissed him with the passion of the condemned. When she released him, he was so stricken by astonishment that she had taken several steps away before she realized he wasn¡¯t following her.

    ¡°Daniel! Don¡¯t make me regret that.¡±

    Beneath the cruel face of the ice, he laughed, looking like the happiest man in the world.

    ¡°You would laugh at a time like this,¡± she said with a smile that made her look like a woman who knew how to jest in a tavern over drinks. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here before those cursed wolves get down the path.¡±

    They strode toward their companions and the boats, but she abruptly halted, dragging him to a stop. ¡°Did you hear something?¡±

    He looked up at the face of the ice. ¡°Just the wolves and the wind.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Something else.¡±

    The wolves began to descend.

    ¡°Cat! Wake up! You¡¯re howling.¡± Bee was shaking me, trying to jostle my head off a cliff.

    ¡°Ouch! Let go, you beast!¡± Then I remembered everything. I sat up just as we jolted on such a bump that I was slammed into the side of a wagon. ¡°Ow!¡±

    Bee and I were crammed into the bed of the wagon with Vai¡¯s chest, the Taino basket, and a dozen crates heaped with glistening oysters. The crates jostled with each jounce.

    A man looked around from the driver¡¯s seat. He was a white-haired, light-skinned elder with a pipe in his mouth and his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal sun-weathered forearms corded with muscle. ¡°The lass wakes! I thought sure she was drunk as a lord and would sleep it off ¡¯til teatime. Especially with that howling. Thought it was dire wolves, didn¡¯t I? Or a pack of women cast off for their unsightly looks and scolding tongues!¡± He cackled at his own jest.

    Fiery Shemesh! What nightmare was this?

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    ¡°Bee, where are we?¡± I whispered as I rubbed my bruised shoulder. ¡°Where is the dragon?¡±

    ¡°The dragon cast us out on land,¡± she whispered back.

    The road was a cart track, two ruts cutting through damp earth. Mud slopped with each turn of the wheels, but we were high and dry. The two oxen pulling the wagon had the stolid pace of animals who can walk all day without stopping. Around us lay green hills ablaze with spring flowers. I shivered, for although the wagoner was content in his shirtsleeves, it seemed deathly cold.

    Rory was sitting up next to the driver, wearing one of Vai¡¯s best dash jackets, the fabric red, gold, and orange squares limned by black. He took a puff on the pipe and coughed violently.

    The old man chortled again. ¡°You smoke like a woman, lad! No doubt comes of being forced to attend on your sister and cousin all these months, as you say. I¡¯ll teach you to be a man.¡±

    The sight of Rory wearing the dash jacket distracted me. ¡°Bee! How could you let Rory wear that particular jacket? That¡¯s the one Vai wore the morning after we¡­¡±

    Her foot poked me to silence. ¡°How could I have remembered that!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s already got a smudge on the elbow!¡±

    She gazed past me, steadfastly mute. Back the way we had come rose the roofs of fishermen¡¯s shacks next to a small marble temple whose pinnacle was marked with the chariot of a sea god. A sleepy strand gave way to rocky shallows where men raked for oysters. Beyond lay an islet prominently marked by a stone pillar and a tree so large I could tell it was an oak even from this distance. The gray-blue waters of the sea soughed in the brisk wind, chipped with foam. Out on the water it was raining, but up here it was dry and sunny. It looked a cursed lot like the land I had grown up in.

    Bee tugged down my skirt, which had gotten ruched up past my knees. ¡°You slept through most of the journey. It¡¯s as if you had actually been stunned.¡±

    ¡°You were stupefied,¡± added Rory helpfully, turning to address me. ¡°Then you started making smacking noises like you were trying to kiss someone, or had turned into a fish. You didn¡¯t start howling until you reached dry land.¡±

    ¡°Rory and I had to drag you and the chest out of the Great Smoke and onto warded ground, right there on that little island. An oysterman saw us and brought a rowboat to help us to shore. This kind fellow agreed to convey us.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all very well, Bee, but it doesn¡¯t answer my question.¡± My legs were sticky and my skirt was damp. Bee had gotten my wool jacket onto me, although she hadn¡¯t buttoned it. I chafed my arms and hands, trying to warm up. I was exceedingly grateful for the sun, however weak its light and heat seemed compared to the blazing sun in Expedition. ¡°Where are we?¡±

    ¡°Why, dearest,¡± she said with a triumphant smile, ¡°we¡¯re on the road to Adurnam. We¡¯ve reached Europa.¡±

    13

    The rain caught up with us as we reached the outskirts of Adurnam. By the time we reached Westmarket we were soaked through, and the downpour had left Bee¡¯s curls plastered to her neck. Vai¡¯s dash jacket was creased and sodden and, worst of all, Rory had burned the cuff with ashes from the wagoner¡¯s pipe. I had begun shivering so badly I didn¡¯t have the energy to scold him.

    The wagoner reined up at the edge of the bustling fish market just as the rain ceased. Wagons and carts trundled in from the marshy Sieve, the vast estuary of the Rhenus River.

    ¡°This is as far as I come, lasses.¡± He cackled, tapping his hat against the driver¡¯s bench to flick water off the brim. ¡°You had me half believing those lively tales you spun about the foreigners over the ocean who allow girls to run about half naked kicking a ball. As if females wouldn¡¯t just hurt themselves trying to play such games like men.¡±

    Irritation warmed me as I clambered off the wagon. ¡°I was not making it up! The game is called batey. You don¡¯t kick the ball, because it¡¯s not allowed to touch the ground. Women play it in leagues, just like the men, and people come to watch.¡±

    ¡°Folk come to watch, as if they were men! I¡¯d say for another reason, ha ha! Women ruling and men bowing and scraping to stop from being scolded! I¡¯m as likely to believe this tale of an Assembly of representatives voted on by every person in the city. As if a prince would allow that!¡±

    I spoke through gritted teeth. ¡°There is no prince in Expedition.¡±

    ¡°No, there¡¯s a fancy-dressed queen instead!¡± He laughed as he wiped rain from his cheeks. ¡°You¡¯re killing me, lass!¡±

    Rory pulled me back before I whacked the man with my cane. To soothe me he groomed away tendrils of hair stuck to my forehead. ¡°You¡¯re not going to convince him of what is true if he believes it can¡¯t be true.¡±

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    Bee twisted a slender bracelet off one dainty wrist. ¡°Please take this as thanks for your help.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to pay me. I¡¯m happy to do a good turn¡­¡± The wagoner paused as Bee held up the bracelet. ¡°Is that gold?¡±

    ¡°Gold from the court of the Taino king,¡± she said prettily. ¡°He was so overwhelmed by my beauty that he married me.¡±

    ¡°If you want to call that marriage.¡± His gaze hardened. By the way his gaze flicked between us, I guessed he was reconsidering his estimate of what manner of young females we might be and whether Rory was truly my brother or rather our partner in crime.

    Bee¡¯s diminutive stature led people to think her both mild and harmless, until she shifted her feet to a fighting stance. ¡°We expect to be treated with the respect we have shown you,¡± she said in a voice thick with queenly grandeur. ¡°Do not make me regret I thought you a decent man.¡±

    He relaxed. ¡°I see you two girls is having me on. My thanks, then, and I¡¯ll take the bauble gladly, as a keepsake of your mischievous ways. Now you get on to your sire, lass. Lest he get tired of waiting for you and come hunting you down. Listen, you can hear him coming now!¡±

    In the distance horns tootled and drums and cymbals clashed.

    ¡°What festival parade is that?¡± I asked as we heaved the chest out of the carriage.

    ¡°Tomorrow Mars Camulos has his feast. The mask associations have been practicing for weeks for the festival procession. You Phoenician girls won¡¯t be dancing to that Roman horn!¡±

    With a wave and another cackle he drove into the narrow lanes of the market.

    ¡°Mars Camulos!¡± said Bee with a dark frown. ¡°That means tomorrow is the twenty-third day of the month of Martius. The areito to celebrate Caonabo becoming cacique took place on the first of Februarius. Which means we left Sharagua six weeks ago.¡±

    ¡°Six weeks! And yet three months before that!¡± I cried, thinking of Vai, taken from me on Hallows¡¯ Night.

    Looking toward the stalls of fish, Rory eyed the nearest vendor as if gauging whether he could snatch a fish and run. ¡°No wonder I¡¯m so hungry!¡±

    ¡°Rory, don¡¯t do it.¡± Bee grabbed his arm, and he winced. She turned to me. ¡°You¡¯ve always said that time passes differently in the spirit world. It¡¯s still strange to have it happen to us.¡±

    Rain started up again in a blowsy mist. My teeth began to chatter. ¡°We need to find shelter and decide what to do.¡±

    ¡°I have to speak to the headmaster, Cat. I think we should go there first.¡±

    Rory hunched his shoulders. ¡°He¡¯s a dragon. You can¡¯t trust him. He will eat you.¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t eat me, Rory.¡± Bee poked him in the arm. ¡°He might eat you, though, and there are moments when you are so annoying that I must say I expect I would encourage him to do so.¡±

    Rory drew himself straight, lips pulled back. ¡°I shall have you know, Beatrice, that I am never annoying. That you find me so is a reflection on your character, not mine.¡±

    ¡°We need to scout out our ground first,¡± I temporized, for I sensed Rory trembling at the edge of rebellion. Also, I desperately wanted to dry out and get warm. ¡°Let¡¯s go first to the law offices of Godwik and Clutch. It¡¯s a long walk across the city, I know. But if there¡¯s anyone I trust, it¡¯s the trolls¡­ the feathered people, I mean. The Taino always use the more polite phrase.¡±

    ¡°We need not imitate the Taino in everything just because they believe themselves to be superior to us!¡± remarked Bee in a frosty tone. ¡°But I suppose it is wisest to go to the law offices first. Wait here.¡±

    She left Rory and me huddled with the chest under the eaves of a decrepit warehouse. Wagons lined up to offload their glistening catch into the baskets and crates of middlemen, merchants, cooks, and men guarding wheelbarrows. No one paid us any mind, for we looked exactly like an impoverished brother and sister who had no home and no means of buying our next meal, but I felt exposed and vulnerable.

    ¡°Rory, what did you tell the wagoner about our sire? You ought to have been silent.¡±

    ¡°It was while you were howling. I said our sire was the Master of the Wild Hunt. The benefit of telling the truth is that so few people believe you.¡±

    I laughed. ¡°When did you get to be so wise?¡±

    ¡°There was this woman I petted in the palace of the prince of Tarrant that time I got trapped there after eating the pug dog and the peahen¡­¡±

    He regaled me with a story that made me laugh more than once, even if there were particulars I had to command him to skip over because I did not want to hear them. Having no shame, he had no idea there were private things a person did not tell other people. Just as he finished, Bee reappeared carrying three leather peddlers¡¯ sacks and a wrapped paper bundle.

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    Rory took the wrapped paper from her, brushed his cheek against hers, then held the paper to his nose and inhaled. ¡°Fish! You brought me food.¡±

    ¡°How did you manage that?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°A noble bride receives a lot of gold jewelry. If she isn¡¯t bountifully adorned, it¡¯s shameful for her family.¡±

    ¡°You had no family in Taino country.¡±

    An odd expression creased her mouth from a memory I could not share. ¡°Let¡¯s go. We¡¯ll transfer the chest¡¯s contents to these packs when we have a roof over our heads.¡±

    The chest was indeed an unwieldy burden. The coarse rope chafed my fingers as we trudged through the busy streets of Adurnam. The sky was heavy with clouds and gritty with coal smoke from the afternoon cooking. Dreary colors and pinched faces made me feel we walked through a foreign land. To mark the festival of the god who ruled over war, shopkeepers had already adorned their doorways with a red wreath pierced with the short sword known as a gladius or with a wooden mask depicting a ram¡¯s head with massive horns. The drinking would begin at sunset, and tomorrow morning there would be a procession through the streets.

    We headed east toward the new districts along Enterprise Road. But our steps strayed toward the hills where the ancient Kena¡¯ani settlement had risen long ago and where sanctuaries sacred to Melqart, Tanit, and Ba¡¯al still stood. By unspoken agreement, Bee and I took a roundabout way that led us to the house where we had grown up.

    We halted on the edge of Falle Square at dusk. The small four-story town house was shuttered, its front gate padlocked. No thread of smoke rose from the chimney. No festival wreath marked the door, not that any manner of Roman adornment had ever hung there when we lived in the house. The mansa of Four Moons House had purchased the property from the Hassi Barahal clan after my aunt and uncle had fled Adurnam. He had meant to keep Bee and me prisoner there until he sorted out what to do with us, but we had escaped.

    Rain spattered as the wind picked up. Bee and Rory waited in the back alley while I wrapped shadows around myself, climbed over the back gate, and scanned the yard with its laundry room, cistern, and outdoor hearth. The old carriage house had been empty for years, for we could not afford horses or carriage, but the new owners had stocked it with hay and bags of feed. Bee and I had long ago hidden a key beneath a pair of loose boards in the carriage house. It was still there, but when I brought it to the door, the locks had been changed.

    I tucked up my skirts, shifted the basket to my back, and climbed the tree to the window of Uncle Jonatan¡¯s study. A chain of magic still protected the window latch. The whisper of its cold magic woke my sword. I unsheathed my blade and severed the threads. Then I turned the latch and swung into a deserted room.

    Uncle Jonatan¡¯s desk had been replaced by a table, chairs, and two settees shrouded by heavy covers and the dusty flavor of neglect.

    I stepped into the first-floor corridor and listened through the threads that bound the house. Aunt Tilly had spun Kena¡¯ani magic to guard home and property, and its embrace lingered in the walls like a memory of her warm smile. I wiped away a tear, for although I knew she and Uncle had betrayed me to save their own daughter, I still missed the way Aunt Tilly would kiss my forehead at night before we slept. I longed for the plates of sweet biscuits she and Cook had baked when they had extra coin for a treat of honey.

    The house lay utterly silent except for the patter of rain. I went down to the ground floor and into the half basement. In the kitchen I opened the shutters and looked around. A new stove with all manner of modern conveniences had been installed in place of the old one where Cook had eked out each last morsel of tough stew meat and mealy turnips to make enough to feed us all. Dust smeared the tabletop, broken by the footprints of mice. Yet the coal bin was full, and the pantry was stocked with sealed pots of oats, barley, and beans.

    I found a key hanging beside the back door. By the time the rain really began to pour, we were all safe inside.

    I shivered. ¡°No one knows we¡¯re in Adurnam, and no one has lived here for weeks. I say we stay here the night, take a bath, and wash our clothes.¡±

    Bee nodded. ¡°We can haul water while we¡¯re still wet. Now it¡¯s coming on dark, no one will notice our chimney smoking. Do you want to haul water or start the fire?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m cold and wet,¡± said Rory in a tone of offended surprise. ¡°I can¡¯t work at hard labor in this condition!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised what you could do rather than have me bite you,¡± said Bee.

    A grumbling Rory and I filled two copper tubs and the big scullery pot with water while Bee lit lamps, stoked and lit a fire in both the scullery and the fancy kitchen stove, and set oats and beans to soak. She found towels and an entire cake of lavender-scented soap of a kind we had only been able to afford as shavings at the holidays. In the scullery I gave Rory a towel to wrap around his waist and told him to take off his wet clothes.

 Page 47

    ¡°If you sit and watch the big pot, the water will boil,¡± I added.

    ¡°Really?¡± He settled on a stool with such a pleased expression that I could not tell whether he simply did not know the old saying, or had a profoundly complex sense of humor.

    In the kitchen Bee and I stripped, wrapped ourselves in towels, and hung the wet clothes on a rack by the stove to dry.

    ¡°Really, Cat, wasn¡¯t that a little mean-spirited? A watched pot never boils!¡±

    ¡°Of course it boils eventually unless there¡¯s a cold mage nearby to douse the fire. It will keep him out of trouble.¡± I pulled out Queen Anacaona¡¯s skull, with its empty eye sockets and remarkably good teeth. Some peculiar magic was keeping the jaw wired on. ¡°Where shall we set her?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t mean to set out the skull as if it can see or hear anything!¡±

    ¡°It seems rude to leave her shut up in the basket. I¡¯ll set her here on one of the plates so she feels as if she knows what¡¯s going on.¡± I placed her on a cupboard shelf, facing out. ¡°There you are, Your Highness. We will be going into and out of this kitchen, but be assured we will not leave the house without you. In fact, if you have any spectral powers, you might warn us if an enemy approaches the house so we can escape. Otherwise you¡¯ll fall into their custody and then you¡¯ll never reach your son.¡±

    I glanced at Bee, sure she was about to make a mocking comment.

    Instead, her lips pursed as she considered the skull of the cacica who had briefly been her mother-in-law. She made a courtesy. ¡°My apologies, Your Highness. I regret my rude comment.¡±

    We left the cacica to oversee the kitchen while we explored the house. Our bare feet marked trails on the floors. Warmth from the two fires drifted upstairs like the kiss of an opia. The cold mages had repapered the walls, replaced the curtains, and removed all the old furniture. Only two things remained from the house we had grown up in.

    One was the big mirror on the first-floor landing, covered by a sheet. I pulled back the sheet and rubbed a finger over the mirror¡¯s slick surface, remembering how an elderly djeli had chained the marriage between Vai and me in its dark surface. The light from the lamp Bee held gleamed in the mirror, illuminating us as indistinct figures. Threads of gossamer magic chased around me before receding into the shadows. A faintly gleaming chain spun out of my chest and pierced the surface of the mirror, as an arrow loosed into a pool stabs a path. Although barely visible in the darkness, the thread shot sure and strong into the unseen depths.

    Was there movement in the heart of the mirror? I extended a hand to touch it. Its surface was smooth and hard.

    ¡°Cat, are you staring at yourself? For you look a sight, with your hair all tangled and that towel draped so fashionably¡­¡± She touched her own bedraggled curls with her free hand. ¡°Blessed Tanit! Is that really how I look?¡±

    I pretended to recognize her as if for the first time. ¡°Bee? Is that truly you? I would never have known¡­ I thought perhaps a medusa, with the snakes of her hair all dead and limp¡ª¡±

    She kicked me in the shin.

    I let the sheet drop back over the mirror¡¯s face. We went upstairs to the bedchamber we had shared for most of our lives. In a secret hiding place in the wall of the chamber we found Bee¡¯s first sketchbook with its scrawls, and a scrap of faded calico fabric wrapped around my childhood toys: a red-and-cream polished agate, a little wood play sword, and a tiny carving of a stallion caught in the flow of a gallop.

    ¡°You gave me an awful bruise on the head with that thing,¡± said Bee as I brandished the little sword. ¡°You were such a beast, Cat. Always getting into fights.¡±

    ¡°I was not! I was always saving you when you got in fights! Like the time in the ribbon shop when that Roman girl yanked on your hair until you screamed while her mother pretended nothing was happening.¡±

    She grinned as she galloped the toy stallion across the floor. ¡°You had hacked off half her hair before her mother bothered to come look. It¡¯s a good thing we can run so fast.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not speed. It¡¯s knowing how to distract the enemy.¡±

    ¡°Do you remember seeing her again years later when we arrived at the academy?¡± Bee laughed so hard she had to wipe tears away. ¡°All grown up, and with her hair done in those knots and bows that were fashionable four years ago.¡±

    ¡°Thank Tanit that went out of fashion as quickly as it did. Your hair was too curly and mine too heavy and straight.¡±

    ¡°How she looked daggers at us! She started a whispering campaign, do you remember? To try to make us feel ashamed of being impoverished Phoenician girls.¡±

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    We shared a smile, for of course the girl hadn¡¯t known we were shameless. We simply didn¡¯t care what she and her circle thought of us. Our indifference had demolished her campaign. Not to mention the syrup we had secretly smeared on her knots and bows, which soon attracted ants.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go down before Rory does something he oughtn¡¯t,¡± said Bee, taking my hand.

    We gathered our treasures. As we started down the steps I heard splashing.

    ¡°Oh, dear,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯d better hurry.¡±

    When we reached the scullery we found Rory happily washing himself as he sang a spectacularly obscene song. Fortunately he was sitting in the tub, and had filled it with hot water. The water was already grimy with his dirt.

    ¡°Am I supposed to eat this?¡± he asked brightly, holding up a sliver he had cut off the cake of soap. Then he laughed as he set back to scrubbing himself. ¡°You should see your expressions!¡±

    ¡°Be careful I don¡¯t make you eat it!¡± muttered Bee. ¡°Where on earth did you learn those crude verses?¡±

    He brushed his lips as if he were grooming up the corners of his grin. ¡°That¡¯s a story! Do you remember when you sailed with the general and I was left behind with Brennan Du and Professora Kehinde Nayo Kuti? I discovered they have houses here in Europa where all they do is pet all day and all night!¡±

    ¡°You can tell us another time, Rory,¡± I said quickly.

    Bee and I retreated to the kitchen. I prepared a nourishing porridge from oats and pulse while she cleaned the fish and baked it plain, with only salt. Shockingly, we discovered a cache of actual sugar in a glass jar that had been shoved behind a small butter churn in the pantry. When Rory had finished bathing and clothed himself in a towel wrapped around his waist, I set him to watch the porridge while Bee and I bathed. We washed each other¡¯s hair in a bucket, as we always used to do, then traded washing in the tub and rinsing with buckets of warm water from the stove. Afterward, we washed our underthings.

    ¡°I miss the shower and plumbing at Aunty¡¯s boardinghouse,¡± I said. ¡°This seems so awkward now. Think of the faucets in the town house where the general lived!¡±

    ¡°I do think of them,¡± said Bee with a melancholy sigh. ¡°Even that was as nothing compared to the magnificent plumbing in the palace in Sharagua.¡±

    With towels wrapped around us, we returned to find the porridge ready to eat and Rory picking slivers off the cooked fish. We dug in.

    Bee paused to watch me. ¡°The way you¡¯re eating, are you sure you¡¯re not pregnant?¡±

    ¡°I am quite sure!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not pregnant.¡± Rory brushed his face alongside my head. ¡°I have a very sensitive nose. She¡¯s not pregnant. Nor is she at the moment fertile.¡±

    ¡°How can you know that?¡± demanded Bee.

    His affronted expression made her laugh. ¡°Didn¡¯t I just say I have a sensitive nose? I know when females are fertile, or not fertile. You human women aren¡¯t like the females of my own kind. You are fertile more often, and yet never seem to know it, so it¡¯s fortunate I can tell.¡±

    Bee and I stared at him for so long, mouths dropped open, that his brow wrinkled.

    ¡°How can you not tell? I would think it would be something you would want to know.¡±

    ¡°Goodness,¡± I murmured as heat crawled up my cheeks.

    ¡°You look so sweet when you blush, Cat.¡± Bee¡¯s smirk made me laugh, although I was still flushed. She crossed to the high basement window with its four expensive panes of glass, cracked the latch, and pushed open the window to let out some of the heat. ¡°What else haven¡¯t you told us, Rory? We¡¯ve asked you more than once to tell us about the spirit world and the Wild Hunt and the spirit courts, but you always say you don¡¯t know anything.¡±

    A flicker of wildness stirred in his amber eyes. He leaned closer, growing more threatening, like a great cat guarding the succulent deer it has just dragged in. Bee glanced toward the knives hanging by the stove, but I held my spoon and did not retreat.

    ¡°You two persist in talking to me as if I am a man. I am not a man. It amuses me to walk in these clothes. I am a cat. I live in the wild, and I hunt. The dragons are my people¡¯s enemy. As for the other, I cannot walk in the spirit courts. I know nothing of their kind, except that they rule us.¡±

    ¡°How do they rule you?¡± Bee asked.

    He considered the bones of the fish. ¡°How do princes rule here? All creatures in the spirit lands where I grew up bide under the rule of the courts because the courts are stronger.¡±

 Page 49

    ¡°But why are the dragons your enemies?¡± Bee asked.

    ¡°If we are caught in the tides of their dreaming, we are changed, and lose both our bodily form and the mind that makes us a self. How can they not be our enemies?¡±

    Bee¡¯s smile had the brilliant assurance of the sun flashing out as wind drove off its shield of clouds. ¡°You see! The headmaster must know about dragons, dreaming, and the Great Smoke. Why else would he have tricked us into crossing into the spirit world? Cat, get my sketchbook.¡±

    After wiping my hands, I unfastened the lid of Vai¡¯s chest. Bee had placed her sketchbook at the top, wrapped in an oilskin pouch. As she flipped through its pages, I went through the contents of the chest.

    The top was spanned by the length of canvas, sewn with pockets, in which I kept my sewing things and my other necessaries. Beneath the unrolled canvas lay a pretty pagne I had never before seen, a festive gold-and-orange print with smiling suns and laughing moons. I blinked watering eyes, for it was obviously a special gift from Aunty, one the family had chosen for me with affection. Below this I found trousers and underthings and, beneath them, some of Vai¡¯s beautiful dash jackets tucked within clean pagnes for extra protection.

    ¡°He can probably describe exactly where and when he got each one,¡± I said, running my hands along the folds.

    Bee snapped shut the sketchbook. ¡°What is it like to love someone that much?¡±

    I glanced up at her. ¡°Did you love Caonabo?¡±

    ¡°In that ridiculously infatuated way you love Andevai? No, thank Tanit, I did not love him!¡±

    ¡°How can you say so? At the academy, you were always droning on and on about Amadou Barry¡¯s beautiful eyes or whichever young man took your fancy that week. You filled your sketchbook with pictures of handsome young men. And you were always talking¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, I was always talking. I enjoyed the attention. Who wouldn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°Yes, dearest. That¡¯s my point. You wouldn¡¯t and never did, because you¡¯re a different person than I am.¡± She lifted a hand to scrub at her face as if she were tired. ¡°Because I¡¯m beautiful, people expect me to have a romantical disposition. Even you expected it, Cat! But I must say, there is nothing romantical about using cheap ribbons to make an old dress appear newer whenever the family is obliged to appear at a social gathering. Melqart forbid there be any chance we look as poor as we really were, lest people inclined to hire us reject our services due to our wrecked finances! There is nothing romantical about eating tough winter radish or mushy turnips for every meal in chilly Martius and damp April because the root cellar is almost empty, the early-ripening crops aren¡¯t yet at market, and there¡¯s not enough money for meat.¡±

    After a glance at her stormy expression, I pulled a comb out of my sewing canvas and handed it to her. She set down the sketchbook and began to comb out Rory¡¯s snarled hair.

    I talked to fill in her silence. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not so wise to choose a palace of gold and silk over a humble cottage if the first comes with a knife in the back and a foot on the heart and the second comes with a smile and a kiss.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s very sweet. I am not so sure the smiling and kissing will survive the dreary struggling day in and day out. Or did you not live in the same house I did, watching Mama and Papa with their polite indifference?¡±

    ¡°Bee¡­¡± My voice trailed off as she sniffed down angry tears. ¡°It wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s fault that we were poor. Especially not Aunt Tilly and Uncle Jonatan.¡±

    ¡°You are so loyal, dearest, that even after they sacrificed you to try to save me, you can¡¯t bear to speak a word against them. I¡¯m not talking about fault, even if they did take uncounted imprudent financial gambles. I¡¯m talking about bargaining my beauty for wealth and position.¡±

    ¡°Was that why you were so angry at Amadou Barry when he merely offered you a position as his mistress? Because it wasn¡¯t a more secure contract?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she said softly. ¡°I was angry at myself. I almost said yes to him just because his kisses dazzled me. What a fool I was! Desire is a foolhardy way for a young woman to secure a livelihood.¡± She glanced at me. ¡°Not that I mean to accuse you of falling into love with Andevai just because of his looks, or his kisses.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I was dazzled by his looks from the beginning.¡± I tried to stop myself from smiling and could not. ¡°But he courted me with radical principles. And food.¡±

    ¡°This is a new expression for you, Cat. You were always so heartless and sensible before. Now you look absolutely stupefied.¡±

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    I laughed, but quickly sobered. ¡°Did you really trade yourself and your beauty and your dream walking to the Taino for the security and wealth of the palace and a noble station?¡±

    ¡°Of course I did. Our marriage was arranged for political gain. I didn¡¯t go in expecting to love him. But I liked him. He¡¯s restful. I didn¡¯t realize how pleasant it is to be with a restful person.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying I¡¯m not a restful person?¡± I teased, essaying a joke, for I hated her tears and wanted desperately to make her laugh.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re a restful person, Cat.¡± Rory brushed the corners of his lips with the back of his hand as if smoothing down quivering whiskers.

    ¡°Not that I mean this in a critical way, Cat, but neither you nor your cold mage is restful. Honestly, I can¡¯t imagine how you two will get on once you have to manage daily life together.¡±

    I pressed a jacket to my cheek. ¡°I will keep his dash jackets in good repair.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a skill he will certainly appreciate!¡± She wiped a tear from her cheek. ¡°Did you know that in Taino country women can divorce men with the same legal rights as men can divorce women? Now that we¡¯re back in Adurnam I can¡¯t help but reflect that I would have been left penniless and ostracized if it had happened to me here. Strange to think I should be glad it was a foreign man who divorced me instead of a local one!¡±

    I opened my mouth to make a joke, but no sound came out. My chest felt hollow, for she had sacrificed her grand marriage for me. I could not throw that in her face as a jest.

    She kept combing, grip tight. ¡°His relatives wanted him to denounce me in front of the entire Taino court, but he refused to do it. He merely let people assume I was returning with the general to Europa because I was Europan and obligated to serve my people. ¡±

    I said nothing, waiting for her to go on.

    ¡°He was so angry. Not like Papa gets angry, shouting and stomping, but distant and formal.¡±

    Her fiercely vulnerable expression tore my heart in two. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry it ended badly.¡±

    ¡°Ouch! Bee! You¡¯re pulling my hair.¡± Rory stiffened, teeth gritted.

    She released the death grip she had on Rory¡¯s locks and began combing with such fixed concentration I knew I was about to hear truth. ¡°I felt so humiliated. Caonabo cutting me off like that when I thought we got on so well, and I know he thought we got on well, too. But he took it so badly. I know it was a lie to draw that sketch. But surely he had to understand I could not just stand by and see you threatened with death! It¡¯s as if he holds his honor higher than my love for you or any loyalty to our marriage. Yet why would he not? He¡¯s a prince in a powerful nation, and now its ruler. If I did not walk the dreams of dragons he would never have acknowledged I existed. I married him for the security and the position and the wealth, not in a mercenary way, mind you¡ª¡±

    I laughed, and she made to throw the comb at me.

    ¡°You know what I mean! I didn¡¯t marry him to make use of his rank and riches for my own personal gain, but so you and I would have a rock to stand on in a stormy sea. We have nothing.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± I murmured as I trailed my hand through the silks, damasks, and cottons, and the practical wool challis of my riding jacket. ¡°Nothing but your jewelry, and some expensive clothes with pearl buttons. I suppose we will have to sell them, starting with the buttons.¡±

    At the bottom lay winter coats, boots, Vai¡¯s carpentry tools, and tiny carved wooden boxes, containers for ornaments and toiletries, including the sheaths made of lamb¡¯s intestines Vai had obtained before the night of the areito. I smiled dreamily. He had been so sure I would say yes.

    Rory nudged Bee with his shoulder, and she resumed combing.

    At the bottom of the chest I found two packets of fine white cotton cloth I had never before seen, wrapped around three heavy bundles, each about the size of my forearm, that had the solidity of metal. I sighed. ¡°I¡¯m glad you escaped with one chest, at least. I suppose the other chests are on the ship with the general, if Drake hasn¡¯t burned them. What¡¯s wrapped in the cotton?¡±

    ¡°Caonabo asked me to give some items to Ha¨¹bey, in secret. I hid them with your things so no one would suspect I had them.¡±

    ¡°Caonabo divorced you because he was offended that you lied about the sketch. And then asked you to carry out an errand for him?¡±

    ¡°He trusted me to do it.¡±

    ¡°I am indignant on your behalf. Of course he trusted you! You¡¯re a trustworthy person! Yet he threw you off for what he took as a personal slight. Young men see everything reflected in their own honor.¡±

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    She chuckled. ¡°Now you¡¯re talking about Andevai.¡±

    I smiled. ¡°That¡¯s better. I like to hear you laugh.¡±

    Rory relaxed as Bee¡¯s hand lost its death grip on the comb and her strokes grew lighter. ¡°Caonabo intends to change some of the old laws, like the strict one on quarantine. The worst of the old epidemics burned themselves out several generations ago. The behiques can treat illness more effectively now. But people naturally fear bad things will happen if they don¡¯t do everything exactly as they always used to do it. Change frightens people.¡±

    ¡°Or threatens them,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s why the mage Houses don¡¯t like technology. It threatens their power. That¡¯s why they defeated and imprisoned General Camjiata, because his legal code threatens their power, too¡­¡±

    We took possession of Cook¡¯s bedchamber next to the kitchen. Bee and I shared the bed while Rory slept on the floor beside it, resting on the pallet our man-of-all-work Pompey had used in the kitchen at night. ¡°I never sleep alone,¡± he said, ¡°it makes me nervous.¡±

    ¡°Hush,¡± said Bee, pinching out the lamp.

    In the darkness the memory of Cook¡¯s scent settled over me: She had always smelled of flour and onions, but in a comforting way, not an unpleasant one. Home rose around us, although it was dark and abandoned. We could stay the night but never truly return.

    Yet the house embraced us. With Bee slumbering beside me in the old familiar way and Rory snoring softly on the floor, I slept soundly.

    14

    I was awakened in the morning by Bee crawling over me to get to her sketchbook. I slid deeper under the blankets as she perched on the edge of the bed and sketched. Just enough gloomy light leaked through a basement window for her to see the paper. When she had finished, she ran out to use the privy. I followed. Gray clouds promised rain.

    She left me to stir the slumbering fire back into a blaze and make the morning porridge while she sat at the kitchen table, studying the sketch. In a modest tailor¡¯s shop, two men sat cross-legged on a platform raised off the floor. Glass-paned windows spilled light over half-made garments draped across their laps. A cat sat under the platform, barely visible in the shadows. Bolts of cloth were stacked on a table next to a privacy screen. On the opposite side of the street, buildings housed a row of shops. Seen through the window directly opposite, beneath a sign that read QUEEDLE AND CLUTCH, a troll was being measured for a coat. In the distance, above snow-dusted roofs, rose two slender, square towers, each topped with what looked like a huge golden egg.

    ¡°Here we see the problem exactly as General Camjiata described it to me,¡± I remarked, gesticulating with the wooden spoon. ¡°You have to recognize an actual place or piece together the meaning of disparate images to form a message. Then you have to fix a date to it. The cat in the shadows could be me. The most likely person we know who would be in a tailor¡¯s shop is Vai. The snow suggests some time between October and April.¡± I allowed myself to hope that I would rescue Vai and thus end up in a tailor¡¯s shop waiting for him.

    She flipped through the pages, scrutinizing several sketches of the academy. ¡°The general told me the same thing. He is better at interpreting my dreams than I am. The Taino behiques were going to teach me what they know about dream walking after Caonabo became cacique. But of course instead I had to leave. Ah! Look.¡± She displayed a drawing of the headmaster¡¯s study, with its mirrors, bookshelves, and chalkboards. The long table was usually piled with books and scrolls, but in the sketch the tabletop was set with five place settings, as for dinner. Seen from the back, I was dressed in a fashionably cut jacket and skirt. Bee pointed to a murky reflection of me in a mirror that also showed a red wreath hanging on the back of a door. ¡°Here is a festival wreath with the sword of Mars, today¡¯s festival. There is a lit lamp. Five people will be invited to dinner in the headmaster¡¯s study after dark this evening, and you¡¯ll be there.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t recognize the clothes I¡¯m wearing. Still, I suppose this will act in the nature of an experiment. We¡¯ll have time to go to the law offices first.¡±

    Rory strolled into the room wearing nothing but a towel and a smile. ¡°Mmmm. I like porridge! Can we have some more of that sugar on it? Someday I want to pour sugar all over an attractive body and then lick it off¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rory!¡± cried Bee, clapping her hands over her ears.

    ¡°Blessed Tanit!¡± I muttered as my cheeks flamed, for my thoughts did stray to my husband. I busied myself handing over a sober waistcoat and jacket of an ambivalent but sophisticated gray. ¡°You¡¯re not to wear any of Vai¡¯s other dash jackets unless you ask me first. You can wear this one and the one you ruined.¡±

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    He gave me a look as reproachful as if I had called him a dog. ¡°I¡¯m not carrying that cursed chest if I¡¯m not to be allowed to wear any of the extra-fine jackets.¡±

    ¡°Hush, you two,¡± Bee said. ¡°While we¡¯re gone, we¡¯ll hide our things under the floor in the carriage house.¡±

    We tidied up, closed down the stoves, and set the pot to soak. After explaining our errand, I returned the head of the cacica to the basket so we could take her with us.

    We left the house by the back gate. Mid-morning delivery carts rumbled through the residential district, but otherwise the lanes were quiet. The farther east we walked, the busier the streets got. People hurried past with their faces painted red, headed for the festival procession. Many wore ribbons of the colors of the Tarrant princely clan, while others wore red-and-gold tabards to mark their allegiance to the god. Instead of looking excited and delighted, many appeared grim and even belligerent. Strangest of all, no one in the crowd was wearing the laborer¡¯s cap that was the mark of radical sympathies.

    Caught in the middle of a clot of people, we found ourselves pushed onto Old High Street. The wide thoroughfare led toward the district called Roman Camp where lay the main temple dedicated to Mars Camulos. With a clash of cymbals and a blast of trumpets, the festival procession marched into view. The sting of fire magic tamped down like buried coals gave spice to the air.

    It was traditional for the guild of blacksmiths to lead the way, marching in ranks in their leather aprons and carrying nothing in their hands except the power of a blacksmith¡¯s magic, which contained and channeled fire and thus transformed crude metals into the god¡¯s weapons of war. Onlookers shifted back with suspicion and fear, for a conflagration might break out at any moment. Few of the blacksmiths were old, and all were male. I studied their stern faces with new eyes. No one talked about fire magic in Europa because it was considered too dangerous and volatile. Blacksmiths guarded their people and their secrets so securely that I had never truly understood what a fire mage could be until I traveled to Expedition.

    Had James Drake tried to join a guild of blacksmiths, only to be turned away? Or had his family refused to allow it because as nobles they thought guild work beneath him?

    A man in the last rank looked at me, his brow creasing as he dropped a puzzled gaze to my cane.

    Blessed Tanit! It hadn¡¯t even occurred to me to protect the cane from the sight of blacksmiths, who could see its cold steel with their fire-limned sight. We worked our way down until we found a place where we could dodge across the street. Carts passed, decorated with festival tableaux that included actual people standing in martial poses made famous by the old tales: Caesar¡¯s victory at Alesia over the Arverni princes; the death of an Illyrian prince who had rebelled against Rome; the surrender of General Camjiata to a mage, a prince, and a Roman legate after the Battle of Havery. Certainly the festival had taken on an overwhelmingly Roman air! The usual tableau of the Roman legions kneeling in defeat at the battle of Zama before the Dido of Qart Hadast and her general Hannibal Barca was nowhere to be seen!

    A line of drummers flew a rhythm along the street. Dancers wearing ram masks and ribbon-festooned ram costumes stepped alongside. Behind drummers and dancers rode a troop of turbaned mage House soldiers. Banners of light woven out of cold magic floated above them. The streaming gold banners were meant to impress the populace, although I thought them shabby compared to what embellishments Vai could manage. The magic whispered my sword awake.

    Behind the soldiers rode the Tarrant militia, and behind it marched infantry with a legion¡¯s eagle standard held proudly at the front of their ranks. The famous Roman Invictus cavalry in their red-and-gold capes brought up the rear. Fourteen years ago the Invictus had driven General Camjiata¡¯s stubborn Old Guard into the river at the Battle of Havery and forced the general to surrender. No wonder we had seen the Havery tableau today.

    In the shadows of alleys and under thresholds, folk with sullen expressions watched the parade but did not cheer.

    Bee tugged on my sleeve. ¡°Look!¡±

    The man riding at the head of the cavalry was a good-looking fellow with a clean-shaven face, hawk¡¯s eyes, and gold earrings gleaming against his black skin. Bee¡¯s rosebud lips mouthed his name. Amadou Barry. A blush rose becomingly in her cheeks, although I could not be sure whether it was pleasure or anger that animated her countenance.

    His roving gaze sought trouble in the crowd. Looking our way, he saw her. He rocked back in the saddle. Recovering, he turned to demand the attention of the bluff soldier riding next to him, his brother-in-law Lord Marius.

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    ¡°Pull your scarf over your head and keep out of sight,¡± I said, wrenching Bee around as I indicated the nearest alley with my chin. ¡°That way. Meet me in Fox Close. Go!¡±

    I wrapped myself in shadow and dodged into the procession. The pounding of drums and blaring of horns washed over me. The masked dancers in their ram costumes spun as if I were a wind blowing through them. The men under the masks were blind except to the drums, but the ram spirits who flowed within the masks saw me. Their eyes were mist and ice, gleaming with power. They scraped the ground in a mocking greeting, and folk clapped and whistled as if the sweep of bows were part of the dance.

    Their rumbling spirit voices whispered in the air. ¡°Cousin! What do you hunt here? Why have you come?¡±

    They could cut my concealing threads with their sharp spirit horns, but they let me pass unmolested. I sidled up alongside the horses in time to hear Lord Marius shouting to be heard above the drums.

    ¡°You need to give her up, Amadou! It¡¯s been over a year since you saw her. You¡¯re seeing the ghost of what you wish you¡¯d had, now that you¡¯re betrothed. If you¡¯d wanted her that much you should have offered her marriage.¡±

    ¡°Against my aunt¡¯s wishes and every sensible consideration? To an impoverished Phoenician of disreputable birth? Who turned out to be an agent of General Camjiata all along? I think not!¡±

    ¡°Then be sensible and let it go. You just saw someone who looks like her.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it was her! We know the general means to return to Europa someday. Why not now? Look! There she is! Bring her to me!¡±

    As he pointed toward the alley, I darted to the head of Legate Amadou Barry¡¯s fine steed. Two slices ruined the bridle. His grip on the reins went slack. I ducked under his mount¡¯s neck to deal the same damage to Lord Marius¡¯s tack, although the animal rolled its eyes and pranced away from my scent. I cut my way through the troop, leaving a trail of sheared girths and tack. The drumming beat a pulsing rhythm around us as the dancing line moved on down the street while the beleaguered troop bottled up the road. Soldiers had to dismount to steady their horses.

    Lord Marius scanned the trail of my invisible passage through the troops and into the crowd as a man follows the swirl of leaves. With gestures I could see and commands I could not hear, he sent soldiers scrambling after me.

    Still wreathed in shadow, I clambered up onto a barrel and shouted, ¡°Have you let yourselves be beaten down by fear? Shame! Shame! Have you already forgotten the words of the Northgate poet? Was it for nothing that he starved himself on the steps of the prince¡¯s palace to demand new laws for the common people? A rising light marks the dawn of a new world!¡±

    A gun went off. I escaped along a side street. A clamor of rocks being thrown and glass breaking serenaded me, but the sounds faded as I fled. I was winded by the time I fetched up on Enterprise Road, panting loudly enough that passersby looked around to see who was breathing like a steam engine. I leaned in the stoop of a closed shop until I caught my breath, then made my way to Fox Close. There was something odd about the neighborhood, but I couldn¡¯t figure out what it was.

    The lane was lined with modern gas lamps, although naturally they were not lit during the day despite the overcast gloom and smoky pallor. The lane lay deserted except for a man loitering at the corner with a hat pulled low over his brow. I did not see Bee and Rory.

    I walked right past the law offices. When I retraced my path, no business sign met my eye, only a boarded-up house where the sign of orange letters against a feathery brown backdrop had once proclaimed GODWIK AND CLUTCH. The sign was missing; it had been taken down.

    I mounted the steps. The door had been staved in with what appeared to be axe blows, then repaired with planks hammered over the rents. I jiggled the latch and found it unlocked. Cautiously I pressed it down, but remembered before I opened it that it would look awfully strange if anyone caught sight of the door opening by itself. It was quiet along the street, every window shut.

    The man at the end of the lane vanished, stepping out of sight onto Enterprise Road. I opened the door and slipped inside. A muted light filtered from streaked mullioned windows above the door, illuminating the stairs that led up to the shadows of the first floor above. A tall mirror had been set on the stairs to catch any movement into or out of the house.

    Trolls used mirrors in the complicated mazes they drew around their nests. I could not walk in a troll maze, nor could the Wild Hunt enter one because the confusing tangle of shards and glints woven into a troll maze cut the threads of shadow from the spirit world. I had saved Bee by sending her to troll town in Expedition, where the Wild Hunt could not reach her.

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    This was no part of a troll maze. This was a djeli¡¯s mirror, like the one on the first-floor landing of our old home. In such a mirror, a djeli could see into the spirit world.

    My image stared back at me, caught in all my surprise and consternation. Shadows coiled around me like living things leashed to my flesh. I resembled the spinning dancers in their wreaths of flowing ribbons. A silver cord stretched from my heart into the silent depths: the magical chain that bound me to Vai. I had never before seen it so clearly. I took a step forward and brushed fingers over the surface of the mirror where it seemed the glowing cord cut through into the other side. Where my fingers touched, they slid as into water, pulling through a viscous liquid neither cold nor hot but exactly the same temperature as my skin.

    ¡°Andevai¡¯s bride! This I did not expect.¡± A djeli spoke from within the mirror.

    I had walked right into his trap. A crash sounded from upstairs.

    I bolted out the door and slammed into Bee.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to run!¡± I steadied her before she stumbled down the steps. Rory waited on the street, looking alarmed. ¡°The law offices have been abandoned. Someone has set a djeli to watch the premises with magic. I¡¯m afraid it¡¯s the mansa¡¯s djeli, Bakary.¡±

    In such circumstances Bee never argued or questioned. ¡°Where do we go?¡±

    ¡°We need to find out what happened to the law offices.¡±

    At the corner of Enterprise Road and Fox Close, the loitering man had reappeared. He looked our way as he deliberately took off his hat and replaced it with the cap worn by the radicals. He¡¯d seen us, so there was no harm in asking, since he already knew we were there. I strode back to the corner. He touched two fingers to his forehead in a welcoming salute.

    I smiled saucily, for I had discovered at the boardinghouse that a flirting smile was likely to get a tip, and right now we needed a tip badly. ¡°May the day bring you peace, Maester. How is it with you and your family? Well, I hope.¡±

    The man measured me with a grin. ¡°Better now you¡¯ve come, lass!¡±

    ¡°Cat, really!¡± muttered Bee.

    ¡°Have you news of what happened to the law office?¡± I asked.

    A pair of mounted men appeared far down Enterprise Road.

    The man doffed the cap, tucking it inside his coat. His dusty blond hair hung to his shoulders. ¡°Those with feathers must flee the nest when predators disturb the tree.¡±

    ¡°Were the lawyers arrested?¡±

    ¡°Birds cry a warning each to the other.¡±

    His cryptic utterances annoyed me. ¡°By which I take it that the prince¡¯s militia raided them, but they escaped. How long ago did this happen, Maester?¡±

    ¡°If you want to know more, come in off the street.¡±

    We followed him through the public room of a coffeehouse where shabbily dressed men sipped at their brew. They watched us go into a private room furnished with a table and chairs.

    ¡°Sit. Will you have food or drink? It¡¯s already paid for.¡± The young man had the freckled face of a pale man who has spent a good deal of time in the sun, and a bone-deep weariness made his features melancholy. A woman walked in with a tray of bread and cheese and a pot of hot coffee with four cups. She set it down and went out.

    The coffee smelled delicious, and I hadn¡¯t eaten decent cheese for months.

    ¡°I suppose it can¡¯t hurt,¡± said Bee, seating herself next to Rory.

    I plopped down next to our new companion and cut off a hunk of cheese to go with my bread. The coffee was rich and sharp.

    ¡°To answer your question, the attack on the law offices happened right after the Solstice riots three months ago. A march was held on the first anniversary of the Northgate poet¡¯s hunger strike. Why do you want to know, lass?¡±

    ¡°Why would I tell my business to the likes of you, a man loitering on the street like any sort of scoundrel?¡±

    ¡°Whsst! You¡¯re a fiery beast, lass. It will take a strong man to harness you.¡±

    ¡°It would take a strong man to not speak of harnesses!¡±

    Perhaps I gestured aggressively with the knife, for his laughter ceased. His mouth settled into a grin that twitched with both bravado and an emotion like anger. Men didn¡¯t ever like to look as if women frightened them.

    ¡°If you want information, lass, you might think a moment about whether you want to antagonize a man who¡¯s willing to tell you things. And to feed you most generously, in a city where plenty of folk go to bed hungry and wake up hungry with no hope of even a scrap of bread.¡±

    I sighed gustily. ¡°My apologies. We¡¯re looking for the troll lawyers.¡±

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    ¡°Not so difficult, was that? But I¡¯m thinking you don¡¯t recognize me. For I surely recognize you two lasses, and the man with you, too. That¡¯s why you¡¯re in here and not out there.¡±

    He had two fingers missing on his right hand. Abruptly, I did recognize him.

    ¡°You were the one with the coal cart, Brennan Du¡¯s man. You challenged Lord Marius, to catch his attention so he wouldn¡¯t find us. He had you arrested. Your name is Eurig.¡±

    ¡°That is me in truth, lass.¡± He flashed a more flirtatious smile, perhaps thinking that a woman who remembered him so keenly had been struck by his looks and presence, when in fact I had been trained in a household of spies and messengers to have a good memory. ¡°I remember the day as bright as yesterday even though it was over a year ago.¡±

    ¡°We were never able to thank you for the sacrifice you made for us. What happened after you were arrested?¡±

    He glanced at his mutilated hand. ¡°A lot of folk were arrested after the prince got news that General Camjiata had walked into Adurnam and then escaped over the sea. Black-haired Brennan and the professora barely escaped.¡±

    ¡°I was with them!¡± said Rory. ¡°That was fun!¡±

    He rounded on Rory. ¡°Fun! One hundred men were executed for treason!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see that,¡± said Rory indignantly. ¡°We were already gone. I would never call executions and arrests fun! I meant that the skulking and running were fun, and Brennan Du taught me how to properly drink whiskey. Did you think I meant I am the kind of person who laughs when people suffer?¡±

    He looked suddenly about twice his normal size, with his chest puffed up and his lips curled back. His braid, like a whip, seemed ready to snap.

    Eurig scooted his chair back so fast that it squeaked against the floorboards.

    Rory leaned forward. ¡°A person can enjoy fun and be serious at the same time.¡±

    ¡°Gracious Melqart, Rory! You¡¯re sounding more and more like Cat every day!¡± Bee pushed him back into his chair and turned her most coaxing smile on Eurig. ¡°What happened to the Northgate poet?¡±

    Eurig¡¯s anger broke free. ¡°Why, the Northgate poet died, lass. And our hopes with him. The prince let the poet starve himself to death on the steps of the palace.¡±

    I was too shocked to speak, for when we had fallen into the well, the Northgate poet had still been alive.

    ¡°Died!¡± Bee set down her mug. ¡°What of the shame that stained the prince¡¯s honor?¡±

    ¡°Tyrants have no honor and therefore no shame. The prince will make merry at his daughter¡¯s wedding feast. He serves flesh to a princely Roman legate in exchange for the Invictus Legion to guard his restless lands. Roman boots will walk the roads the empire built in the days of our ancestors, back when we were free men. Every day we wake to see our master the prince of Tarrant walk arm in arm like a brother with the cursed magister who is the mansa of Four Moons House, although they were bitter rivals all the long days before. We live under the law of the sword. They crush us under their boot-heels like the vermin they name us, and so death makes cowards of us all. The prince ordered that every troll must leave the city, and no person raised a voice in protest.¡±

    ¡°Every troll?¡± demanded Bee.

    ¡°That¡¯s what was strange,¡± I murmured. ¡°There are no feathered people anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Every one. And every man in a radical¡¯s cap was arrested and his family threatened. Hundreds have been transported to the north. There they must labor with their sweat and their blood in the mines of the Barrens. The salt they haul up in buckets flavors the prince¡¯s food while his subjects go hungry. The iron they dig out of the rock forges the swords that kill us.¡±

    His poem of grievances so stunned me that I could not help but think of the promises General Camjiata had made. The music of revolution had a more urgent melody when heard in a city where so many voices had been so recently silenced. I wanted to give him hope. ¡°I heard a rumor that the general is returning to Europa. He¡¯ll proclaim a legal code that abolishes the ancient privileges of princes and mage Houses.¡±

    ¡°Rumor is like a woman¡¯s promise that she¡¯ll kiss you. Have you a kiss for me, lass?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t kiss just any man I see! Only the ones I want to kiss! Did I give you reason to think otherwise?¡±

    ¡°A brave man must have taken on the taming of you!¡± he said with a laugh that made me want to skewer him.

    ¡°Our thanks to you for helping us,¡± Bee said as she slipped the cheese knife out of my hand. As if I could not control my temper!

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    He smiled as easily at her as he had at me a moment before. ¡°My trials were made easier by my knowing such a beautiful young woman was spared thereby.¡± He glanced up as the door opened and the woman appeared.

    He rose. ¡°Time for you to move on. I saw with my own eyes when the mansa of Four Moons House came to Fox Close with his djeli to set the mirror in place. An impressive man, the mansa. Rioters had set a barricade in the road and set it afire. He put out the bonfire with a blast of hail and cold wind that shattered windows and made every hearth fire go out. His men will come to see who opened the door. I don¡¯t reckon you want to be here when they get here.¡±

    ¡°Cat, let¡¯s go now.¡± Rory¡¯s gaze flickered toward the man, and then toward the woman, and then back to us.

    ¡°Of course,¡± I agreed, smiling at the woman, who stared dourly back at me. ¡°Have you any word of where these particular birds might have flown?¡±

    ¡°To another nest east of here by name of Havery.¡±

    ¡°My thanks to you for the information, and the food and drink.¡±

    ¡°May Bright Venus bring fertility to you and your brave man,¡± he replied. He laughed as I blushed.

    We took our leave and stumped along Enterprise Road in a plaguing rain.

    ¡° ¡®Bright Venus¡¯! I thought it very rude to wish a person of Kena¡¯ani heritage luck in breeding under the auspices of a Roman goddess. Didn¡¯t you, Bee?¡±

    She was chewing over more urgent problems. ¡°The mansa knows you¡¯re here, so he¡¯ll secure the house.¡±

    ¡°We have to get the chest!¡±

    ¡°Ba¡¯al forbid that you lose Andevai¡¯s fashionable dash jackets! Some other man might be seen wearing them!¡±

    ¡°If never so well,¡± I muttered mulishly. I missed Vai. How sweet those weeks seemed now, when I had seen him every day.

    ¡°Are you saying I don¡¯t look well in this fine dash jacket?¡± Rory straightened his shoulders as a group of two men and two women passed who were laughing in the way of folk out about the business of pleasure. His smile made the women loose their holds on the arms of their beaux as they gave him a closer look over. When the men objected, Rory smiled more deeply, with a hint of dusky corners in his gaze, and one man took a startled step back while the other bit his lip.

    Bee¡¯s scorching glare drove them off. ¡°Rory! We are skulking and running! We are not lighting a bonfire and ringing bells so people will notice and remember us.¡±

    ¡°Cat said I didn¡¯t look well in my jacket.¡±

    I rapped him on the arm. ¡°It¡¯s not your jacket.¡±

    ¡°Have we survived the mansa¡¯s wrath, the prince¡¯s fury, the general¡¯s devious plotting, and the Wild Hunt only to have you two squabble over clothes? You look perfectly handsome, Rory, and I am sure many a female would love to pet you, and by that look you just got a few males as well, but none of them will get a chance if I murder you first. Are we done?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Bee, my apologies,¡± he said so contritely I was astonished.

    ¡°Cat?¡± she demanded. ¡°Does Rory look well in that fine dash jacket?¡±

    With a look like that, directed at me, I knew how to answer. ¡°He looks very fine.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re only saying it because she told you to,¡± said Rory.

    Bee¡¯s hand tightened on his arm. ¡°Rory, dearest, did you know that in anatomy class at the academy we learned how the ancient Turanians used to castrate young men so they could no longer engage in petting? I paid careful attention to that part of class but unfortunately there was never a practicum in which we were given an opportunity to see if we could manage the operation ourselves. But I haven¡¯t given up hope.¡±

    If he could have put his ears down, he would have. Then he laughed, and I did, too.

    Yet I could not help but notice how women and men mostly moved in separate groups. Here women never walked anywhere alone, even though in Expedition women had felt free to come and go as they wished. Nor did people laugh and talk with the same friendly clamor with which folk had in Expedition. Voices stayed hushed and dampened. Maybe that was the prince¡¯s newly harsh reign, but perhaps it had always been this way and we had just never noticed.

    It was strange to think we were only passing through the city where we had grown up, on our way to somewhere else.

    ¡°Amadou Barry saw you on the street, and the djeli saw me at the law offices,¡± I said. ¡°Nothing to be done about that now. Since the academy is on the way home, we may as well go there first and hope we find the headmaster before anyone comes looking for us.¡±

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    15

    After a long walk we made our way up Academy Hill past the temple dedicated to the Blessed Tanit. Her gates always stood open. Bee and Rory ducked into the temple to stay out of sight while I wrapped the shadows around me and crept into the academy compound past the servant standing at the gate.

    The entry hall lay empty, not a single pupil scurrying late to class under the frieze with its princely white yam, winter wheat, towering maize, and other carvings of plants. Another arch led me into the glass-roofed central courtyard. No one was about. Rain pattered an erratic drumbeat on the glass roof. Although it was early spring, a scent like summer kissed my lips, the smell of the spirit world sensed through the water in the ancient sacrificial well at the center of a paved labyrinth. The blood of sacrifices offered generations ago stung at my nostrils. A year and almost three months ago, Bee and I had fallen through the well into the spirit world. I paused now in the quiet courtyard, looking toward the well, which was covered by an iron grate. My blood would open a path from here into the spirit world, but how would I find Vai in all that vast and changing landscape?

    Bee was right: The headmaster knew more than he had ever let on. We had to talk to him.

    In a rush of clattering footsteps, a crowd of boys and young men swept into the courtyard, all chattering excitedly. They were dressed in old-fashioned robes cut in the fashion of boubous, a plain drapery of muted colors designed not to excite the eye. I caught snippets of words, and it seemed they had been out to watch the festival procession. Although they had not witnessed the disturbance I had caused, rumor of its occurrence had spread. When an older man with blond hair and the ruddy features of a heavy drinker entered the courtyard at the tail end of the procession, they all hushed so quickly that the voice of the one poor boy who hadn¡¯t noticed rang out.

    ¡°¡ªThey heard a voice say, ¡®A rising light marks the dawn of a new world.¡¯ ¡±

    As proctors carrying willow wands converged on the hapless speaker to whip his hands, I looked in vain for a line of girls. I was the only woman in the glass courtyard; no female proctors or servants flocked at the edge of the shuffling horde of youths. The overly talkative boy was biting his lip so as not to cry out under the humiliating punishment as everyone stared.

    I could not bear to watch, and anyway, I needed to find the headmaster. A staircase led up to the long corridor and the closed door of his study. The well-oiled latch eased down with a soft click. I slipped inside.

    For an instant I thought I had accidentally walked through the wrong door into the wrong room, because nothing in the spacious chamber looked as I remembered it. The chalkboards and desk had vanished, replaced by gilt-embroidered chairs that looked as uncomfortable as they were showy. The bookshelves had been cleared of all their books and scrolls, and they now displayed gold cups, gold bowls, and brass or silver wine flagons. One bookcase held nothing but a grisly collection of skulls, arranged from the largest at the top left to the smallest at the lower right, which horribly seemed to be a baby¡¯s actual skull. On the long table lay not a dinner service for five but so many empty wine bottles and empty glasses I did not bother to count them. Only the circulating stove set into the fireplace and the pedestal holding the head of the poet Bran Cof remained from the last time I had entered this room. It surely did not look like the study of a scholar with the many diverse interests and formidable intellect of the headmaster. It took no great acumen to suspect that he had been replaced as master of the academy.

    The skulls stared hollow-eyed at me in stubborn silence. The head of the poet Bran Cof sat atop the pedestal in a stony slumber, his brow furrowed with deep thoughts and his lips pinched closed over all the poems and legal knowledge he had hoarded throughout his famous life. With his hair sticking up in stiff spikes and his bushy eyebrows a little raised, he looked noble and magnificent and just a trifle startled, but I knew he was a filthy-minded and staggeringly unpleasant old man who tried to bully young women into kissing him. His body was imprisoned by my sire, who could not only command the poet but also see through his eyes and speak through his mouth. If I woke the head, would my sire reach through him and trap me with the chain of his voice, as he had before?

    I had to risk it.

    And I knew just the way to wake him up.

    Emphatically not with a kiss. I shattered one of the wineglasses on the table and pricked my arm enough to draw blood. This bead I smeared on the head¡¯s lips and eyes. The cold grain of his face smeared and smoothed into warm flesh. His eyelids fluttered, then popped open with a look compounded as much of fear as of anger.

    ¡°You fool! What do you mean by waking me with blood?¡±

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    ¡°I need to ask you some questions.¡± I took a step back, for the transition from stone to flesh disturbed me.

    His gaze sharpened to a leer as he recognized me. ¡°The girl whose eyes are amber. Woken with kisses, I see. You have the look of a woman about you now, shaped by a man¡¯s caresses. Did you escape the marriage, or embrace its carnal pleasures?¡± His tone had a greasy unctuousness that made me want to wash myself, but fortunately a new thought struck him before he started quoting obscene poetry as I was sure he was about to. Instead, he glanced around with an expression made comical by its wild exaggeration. ¡°Where is the serpent? Where is she hiding?¡±

    ¡°My cousin? I will bring her to torment you if you do not answer my questions. Have you seen my husband? The Master of the Wild Hunt stole him from me.¡±

    A look of cunning creased his features. ¡°I can offer you pleasures the man will surely not have thought of. If you¡¯ll just come a little closer¡­¡± His tongue moistened his lips.

    I lost my patience and my temper. ¡°Do you really think comments like these make me find you attractive? Or are you deliberately trying to put me off? I love him. If you have the least sliver of a human heart left to you, help me find him. Then you can compose a poem about our travails and triumph!¡±

    His face went so still that for several shaky breaths I thought he had fallen back into sleep.

    But he blinked, and spoke in an altered tone, like an impatient teacher scolding a student who is slow to learn. ¡°Best hurry, kitten. You should not have woken me with blood, for the masters crave it and will come seeking it the instant its scent reaches their grasping claws. As it will.¡±

    ¡°I thought my sire was the only master. You serve him, but surely you don¡¯t feed him with your blood.¡±

    ¡°The hunter takes souls, not blood. It amuses him to keep me, because of my knowledge of the law. I was not sacrificed to the courts. Instead I was imprisoned in this terrible state, head separated from body.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I met your body in my sire¡¯s palace.¡± I shuddered, remembering the way Bran Cof¡¯s headless body had stumbled to serve his master¡¯s bidding. With a gasp, I raised a hand to my mouth. ¡°Blessed Tanit! What terrible thing might my sire do to Vai?¡±

    ¡°You know nothing about the courts and your sire, do you?¡±

    Lowering my hands, I took a threatening step closer. ¡°Tell me what you know!¡±

    His sneer turned mocking as he looked me up and down in a most intrusive way. ¡°For each kiss you give me, kitten, I¡¯ll tell you a secret.¡±

    I lifted the shard of glass. ¡°Tell me what I want to know, or I¡¯ll smear my blood all over your face for the courts to suckle dry!¡±

    His lips pulled back in a horrible grimace, yet he also laughed with a slightly hysterical rasp. ¡°You know not of what you speak, girl. The spirit courts crave mortal blood, for blood gives them protection from the tides and allows them to sustain their power. You cannot challenge them.¡±

    ¡°We shall see about that!¡±

    It wasn¡¯t until the latch clicked down that I realized I heard voices. It was the work of a moment to hide myself in shadow as a servant showed two men into the room.

    Lord Marius and Legate Amadou Barry had come looking, just as Bee and I feared. They did not see me, nor did they notice that Bran Cof¡¯s eyes were tracking them, because Amadou Barry walked straight to the tall windows so he could look out over the rose garden, and his brother-in-law followed him without looking around.

    ¡°Whenever I enter these halls, I think of her,¡± Amadou Barry said on a heaving sigh as he tapped the glass with the knuckles of one hand. ¡°I know I saw her on the street, Marius!¡±

    Lord Marius laughed. ¡°Be warned! Your balls will wither if you praise her cherry lips and golden hair in my hearing.¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t have golden hair! It is as black as a crow¡¯s wing. Her glorious hair falls like a riot of curls down her back, for a riot is surely how the thought of her affects my heart.¡±

    The head of the poet Bran Cof rolled his eyes at this stilted speech in a way that made me want to giggle. Fortunately both men were gazing outside and missed it.

    ¡°Bald Teutates! You haven¡¯t a Celt¡¯s gift of poetry, that is certain, Amadou. You mistook another woman¡¯s black curls.¡± Marius wandered over to the table. He picked up several bottles in turn, clearly astounded that they were all empty. ¡°You must give up this unseemly obsession. Your wedding feast will be celebrated the day after tomorrow. Notable men and their retinues have traveled for days to gorge themselves at the table and toast your virility. You will do your duty, as I did mine when I married your sister.¡±

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    ¡°You can¡¯t compare your marriage to mine! You and my sister are well matched in every room except the bedroom. Whereas I am to marry a trembling mouse of a fifteen-year-old who has no conversation, little education, and less personality.¡±

    ¡°Her nose twitches, too, have you noticed that? And she has a pointed, rattish chin.¡±

    ¡°Stop, Marius! Have pity on me!¡± the legate said with what I considered a sad lack of generosity. He did not even defend the poor nameless girl from such an unfortunate comparison.

    Marius laughed in the hearty way he had, which, I reflected, could start to grate. ¡°You¡¯ll be happier with a biddable wife.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t agree.¡± Amadou paced. ¡°My chief pleasure when I was pretending to be a student here was my mathematics seminar. Beatrice sat on the women¡¯s side of the room, answering questions with a bold intellect worthy of a man. I could never concentrate. It¡¯s just as well your cousin ended the practice of allowing girls to attend the academy when he became headmaster last year. It was too distracting.¡±

    Marius examined the skulls and, to my horror, fetched up beside the pedestal. Bran Cof stared at the far wall. Neither of the men seemed to notice the flush of life in the poet¡¯s cheeks or the steely glamour of his blue eyes. Their petty self-absorption blinded them to the astonishing magic in the room. ¡°I don¡¯t think you truly love her, Amadou. You¡¯re just not accustomed to being turned down. That¡¯s what has put you in a pique.¡±

    ¡°She was too proud.¡±

    ¡°You adored her pride until she refused your offer to make her your mistress.¡±

    ¡°Too much pride is deadly in a woman. Mine was as good an offer as she will ever get. Yet what can I have expected from a Phoenician woman! They prostitute themselves for their greedy goddess, to gain whatever material wealth and trade advantage they can.¡±

    Perhaps his words angered me a trifle, enough that I let slip a thread or two.

    ¡°Did you see something?¡± Lord Marius stepped forward, hand on his sword, as I tugged the shadows tight. He relaxed. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one whose heart has been broken.¡±

    ¡°That can¡¯t have been your heart. I know you found the magister attractive, but there can never have been any hope for you with him. He was fixed on the other girl. You didn¡¯t actually proposition him, did you?¡±

    Lord Marius appeared more amused than disappointed. ¡°Nothing so crude. I let my interest be known.¡±

    Amadou Barry snorted in a coarse way so unlike the staidly respectful student we had believed him to be at the academy that I had to guess I was seeing the legate¡¯s true personality. While I had liked the modest, unassuming student named Amadou Barry, I did not like the Roman legate. ¡°Proud Jupiter! The cold mage had the effrontery to turn down a prince¡¯s cousin? Still, he is certainly one of the most arrogant men I¡¯ve ever met. Did he take offense?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. He fixed me with those beautiful eyes, thanked me for the flattering offer, and told me he didn¡¯t sleep on both sides of the bed.¡±

    ¡°Prettily done, you must grant.¡±

    ¡°Far too prettily done! As polite as if I were an aged uncle asking for another dram of whiskey when he¡¯s already had one too many. Gave me nightmares for weeks!¡±

    He paused as footsteps sounded in the corridor. The door was opened, and the older man with light hair and ruddy cheeks strode in.

    ¡°Cousin Marius! Your Excellency! Legate, to what do I owe this honor? I did not expect you, or I would have sent a deputy to shepherd the students to the Mars procession.¡±

    Marius answered. ¡°We have received news that two girls were seen in the city, two fugitives who were students here. They may come to the academy seeking Prince Napata.¡±

    ¡°But girls are no longer admitted as students. I made sure of that! It was never appropriate. I cannot interview two young women without a proper chaperone.¡±

    ¡°The girls left before Prince Napata resigned and you became headmaster. If they come, you must admit them to your study. Delay them with the promise that Prince Napata will return shortly.¡±

    ¡°But the exalted prince left Adurnam over a year ago!¡±

    The head of the poet Bran Cof met my eye, and he glanced at the ceiling as if to share his cutting assessment of this headmaster¡¯s sad lack of intellect.

    ¡°Yes,¡± agreed Marius patiently, ¡°but they won¡¯t know that. Make excuses, have tea brought, and send for us.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have tea brought now. You must explain your purpose more thoroughly, for I am sure that the prince never mentioned that he intended to return to Adurnam.¡±

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    I had heard enough, and dared not wait lest my sire discover Bran Cof was awake in the mortal world and talking to me. I escaped when the servants brought the tea service. With a rumble of boys milling outside the children¡¯s classrooms and young men trampling around the lecture halls, I sneaked out through the side entry, past the latrines. The door leading up to the balcony of the main lecture hall, where we young women had been allowed to sit, was chained and locked.

    Just inside the gates of Tanit¡¯s temple, Rory met me with a nervous dip of his head, patting my arm and walking all the way around me. ¡°I smelled the soldiers and the horses. Lord Marius is with them. I liked him, but we can¡¯t trust him now, can we?¡±

    ¡°No, we can¡¯t. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s a bad man, I just think he¡¯s not on our side. Where is Bee?¡±

    He led me to the withy gate that separated the women¡¯s precincts from the rest of the temple compound. ¡°She went in there, but they made me wait outside.¡±

    I went in, leaving behind the open ground of the main sanctuary with its monumental stone pillars. The women¡¯s precinct had its own garden. Bee¡¯s voice floated over the evergreen foliage. A path wound through a maze of cypress and myrtle until I came to an altar set among fig trees, screened by a fence woven of sticks. Under a sheltering roof stood a statue of the goddess in her aspect as Queen of the Heavens. She was dressed in a simple robe in the Hellenic style, and her elaborate ringed coiffure was crowned by a crescent moon. Her arms extended to offer blessing, and serpent bracelets twined up her forearms. The altar was surrounded by urns that held the cremated remains of infants who had died in an untimely fashion, because grieving mothers would dedicate the urns to the temple as an offering after which they would pray for the goddess¡¯s blessing and for healthy children to come.

    I knelt before the image of the goddess and examined her serene stone face. As Queen of the Heavens she protected sailors and travelers, for so many of the Kena¡¯ani people traveled long distances. As Mother of the Earth she offered comfort to women, and promised fertility to those who desperately desired a child. In Qart Hadast, Tanit was also the lion of war who fought for the city. It was strange to think that General Camjiata¡¯s chosen name also meant ¡°lion of war¡± even though it came from a union of the names of Sunjiata, the first Malian emperor, and fierce Camulos, a god of war among the Celtic people.

    ¡°Give me strength, Blessed One,¡± I murmured, ¡°for you have already given me my heart, and for that I am grateful. Protect us, your travelers. Let us rescue those who need help. Let us find a place we can call home.¡±

    Adurnam was no longer home. I wasn¡¯t the girl who had run to the academy without her coat that day when everything I thought I knew had fallen apart. Hearing Bee¡¯s distant laughter, I smiled, for having her gave me all the courage I needed. I pressed my right hand to my locket and my left to the cane as I shut my eyes. For a few breaths, or for hours, or for years, I heard only silence. Then, faint as a whisper, the pulse of Vai¡¯s being brushed mine.

    He was still alive.

    When I opened my eyes the stone statue of Tanit stared at me with the head of a lion, in her aspect as the giver of fierceness and strength. The cat who never gives up.

    As I never would.

    The path led on to the priestess¡¯s quarters. Bee sat on the sleeping-house porch drinking coffee with six humbly garbed priestesses ranging in age from a bent crone to a slight girl seated in a rickety chair with a crutch at her side.

    ¡°The cacique is the ruler. The ruler is usually a man, but it may be a woman, like the didos who once ruled in Qart Hadast. The cacique administers the kingdom. But all the women of noble lineage and all the elders have the right to rebuke the cacique if he acts in a way that hurts the kingdom. It is the council of women who approve the choice of heir. And in Expedition, with the new Assembly, women will be allowed both to vote and to serve as representatives, just like men. The trolls insisted on that proviso, because they are citizens of Expedition also.¡±

    The bent crone gave a skeptical snort. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine the prince of Tarrant, or a Roman legate of patrician birth, or even that old bastard of a high priest in the temple here, allowing a woman to stand over them and give them commands. How can it be so elsewhere?¡±

    ¡°There were once queens in Qart Hadast, and there¡¯s no reason there can¡¯t be again,¡± said Bee. When she realized I was standing there, she set down the steaming mug she had cupped in her hands. ¡°My dear cousin is come to hasten me on my way. My thanks for the coffee, holy ones.¡±

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    ¡°You didn¡¯t tell us about the architecture,¡± said the chair-bound girl with a yearning sigh.

    She kissed them all around, and whispered something in the ear of the girl that made the child blush with the pleasure of having been given a secret treasure to cherish at her frail breast.

    The bent crone escorted us to the withy gate.

    I faced her. ¡°Holy one, do you know where the headmaster went? Prince Napata?¡±

    ¡°Strange it is that I do. He came here the day he left and he mentioned in particular that should two young Kena¡¯ani women happen by to ask for his direction, I should tell them he is gone to Treverni Noviomagus, where the Rhenus River splits into two channels.¡±

    Once we got outside the gate, Bee turned to me and frowned. ¡°Our experiment did not go so well, did it?¡±

    ¡°I did not find Prince Napata in his study on the Feast of Mars Camulos, that is for certain. But if he left a message for us here, that means he wants us to track him down. Perhaps that is what the dream meant, that we would discover where he had gone.¡±

    Rory was waiting by the gate, his figure half concealed behind one of the entry pillars. ¡°I saw the other man lurking here, the one called Eurig who fed us.¡±

    I chewed on my lower lip. ¡°He must be spying, but for whom? Probably everyone now knows we were at the law offices. Let¡¯s see if we can recover our gear before we go.¡±

    After making sure no soldiers or spies loitered in sight, we hastened down Academy Hill under glowering clouds. The rain held off until we reached Falle Square. We left Rory in the alley to stand guard. A wind swept in with waves of freezing sleet that drove Bee and me through the back gate with more haste and less caution than we ought to have used. I ran across the courtyard to kneel by the basement window, peering into the dim kitchen to make sure there was no fire and that no skulking visitors were awaiting us. The chamber was empty, just as we had left it. The driving sleet stirred up fallen leaves as it drummed on the cobblestones. Shuddering, I raced back to the carriage house.

    Bee had already pried up the boards and opened the chest. ¡°Help me!¡±

    The double doors were cracked open just enough to give light to work. Sleet pattered on the roof and wind rattled the shutters. We set the dash jackets aside, for they would have to go on top, and split the tools and practical clothing into the three packs.

    ¡°I had hoped the headmaster might help us get to Haranwy,¡± I said, shivering. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s strange that he quit his post and left Adurnam right after we fell down the well?¡±

    Bee gave me an indignant look. ¡°Of course it¡¯s strange. Why bide in Adurnam for so many years and suddenly leave? What do we do, Cat? I can sell several of my gold bracelets for money for passage on a coach to Noviomagus. It¡¯s a long way. It will be so expensive.¡±

    ¡°It will take weeks of travel even if the weather improves. I don¡¯t dare wait so long. We don¡¯t even know if the headmaster can help me. I have to go to Haranwy to ask Vai¡¯s brother for help. His people know how to hunt in the spirit world. Once we get to Haranwy, you and Rory can go on to Noviomagus. Anyway, it¡¯s better to go to Haranwy first now that the mansa and the legate know we¡¯re here. They¡¯ll be watching the roads. But we can walk by back lanes and footpaths, where it¡¯s easier to hide. We¡¯ll need only food, for we can beg shelter in haymows and stables. I remember the route well enough, past Cold Fort and through Lemanis¡­¡± I trailed off, remembering Cold Fort.

    Never before marrying a cold mage had I had to consider the uses of illusion. In Southbridge Londun, Vai had woven the illusion of a troop of turbaned soldiers riding down a road, a feat that would have impressed me more had I liked him at the time. In Expedition he had done nothing but play with the illusions of small objects, forming light into the shape of lamps or a gleaming necklace with which to adorn me, because in Expedition cold mages had less magic to draw on. Yet he had woven illusions out of cold fire so skillfully they had seemed like solid objects, impossible to know as intangible unless you tried to touch them.

    Rory and I had almost been caught near Cold Fort by a troop of mage House soldiers under the command of a cold mage. They had ridden across a field under a mask of illusion that made them invisible to unsuspecting eyes, but not to cold steel.

    Too late, I closed my fingers over my cane. The ghost hilt buzzed with the energy of cold magic pouring into it.

    ¡°Quiet.¡± I got to my feet. ¡°Abandon everything. Go out through one of the windows. Meet me at the hat shop.¡±

    Bee grabbed the little knit bag with her sketchbook. I crept to the carriage house door. The cistern was covered by a plank lid. Unswept leaves from the apple and pear trees littered the ground. The big brick oven was closed tight. Behind, Bee stuffed the flasks and my sewing kit into the knit bag as she eased toward the shuttered windows.

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    I wrapped shadows around myself and padded under chill daggers of sleet to the basement steps. The hiss of sleet and the whine of the wind drowned all other sounds. I pressed numb fingers against the door. I drove my awareness down the fraying threads of magic that had once protected the house from intruders. A foot scuffed faintly on damp leaves over by the cistern. An exhalation stirred in the passage beyond the door.

    There were other people here. I just could not see them, for the courtyard looked exactly as it ought under the cloudy afternoon light.

    A slap of wind huffed down over the courtyard with a spray of ice so strong that it hammered me to my knees. As I twisted the hilt to draw cold steel, the basement door was flung open. The wind and ice ceased, to reveal the courtyard walls lined by turbaned mage House soldiers, their crossbows fixed on the carriage house doors. Not yet drawn out of its sheath, my sword withered back into a cane as the cold magic that had been holding the illusion in place vanished and a man spoke.

    ¡°Bring them inside.¡±

    16

    An old man in one of the voluminous robes called a boubou appeared at the open door. The gold earrings he wore marked him as a djeli, a poet who spoke the tales of history and also a person who could handle and chain the energies we called magic. In his right hand he held a mirror, angling it to catch my image. Within the mirror he could see the threads of magic, so he could see me.

    ¡°There you are, Catherine Barahal,¡± he said.

    I spun, ready to bolt, only to see Bee being marched through the back gate from the alley. Soldiers emerged from the carriage house carrying the three packs and the chest.

    ¡°We met before, as you may recall,¡± continued the djeli, in kindly tones.

    ¡°Bring them inside, Bakary,¡± repeated the other man, the one I still did not see.

    As they brought Bee up, I let the threads of shadow drop. The soldiers exclaimed, swinging their crossbows around. I was relieved when the djeli led us into the house.

    The mansa of Four Moons House sat in a chair in the kitchen. The wide sleeves of his indigo robe swept over the arms of his chair. He had concealed himself within a perfect illusion of an empty kitchen. I had thought Vai a master of weaving cold magic into illusions, but obviously I had not properly understood why the mansa ruled the mage House.

    He was a physically imposing man of middle age, old enough to be my father but not old. He had the girth of a person who eats well and remains active. His Mande heritage showed in his black complexion, while his tightly curled dark red hair spoke of his Celtic ancestors. His presence made the kitchen seem shabby. We stood before him like supplicants. He examined us, then glanced at our gear, which his soldiers had set on the floor by the unlit stove. Finally he gestured to the djeli.

    ¡°Where is Andevai?¡± asked the djeli.

    ¡°He is not in Adurnam, Mansa,¡± I replied, for the djeli was speaking for the mansa, not on his own behalf.

    ¡°Yet here are three packs, for three people to carry,¡± said the djeli.

    ¡°He is not in Europa, Mansa. You yourself sent him to the Antilles to spy for you.¡±

    With the tip of his ebony cane, the mansa fished one of the dash jackets out of the chest. The intricately tailored garment was sewn out of a bold blue-red-and-gold fabric printed with an elaboration of Celtic knots so complex it hurt my eyes. His gaze on me fell as cold as the sleet he had called down. He spoke with his own mouth instead of through the djeli¡¯s words.

    ¡°Do you think I do not recognize these clothes? Andevai¡¯s penchant for fashion started as mockery, so we observed in the House. He wore more and more outrageous clothes to belittle the other young men and their pretentious styles. But of course he always looked good in them.¡±

    ¡°We came to enjoy the anticipation of what he would appear in next,¡± added Bakary, amusement making his tone light.

    The mansa tossed the expensive dash jacket carelessly over a chair, where it rested in folds and wrinkles. His resonant voice deepened, steeped in disgust. ¡°Do not lie to me regarding his whereabouts. You belong to me because of the marriage chained between you and Andevai. By law, I have power over your life and your death.¡±

    ¡°Cat is many things,¡± interposed Bee in a tart voice, ¡°but one thing she is not is a liar. If you wish to know where your spy is, then you must answer to yourself.¡±

    ¡°I am puzzled by your impertinence. You are but two girls from an impoverished family of mercenaries. One of you is a bastard. Both of you serve your clan¡¯s business by acting as spies for the Iberian Monster. Those cursed Hassi Barahals cheated us twice over. Not only did they give us the wrong girl, but they had already placed her in the service of the general so she could spy on us once she was inside the house. A cunning and unscrupulous plan.¡±

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    ¡°I am puzzled that you speak of unscrupulous spies as if you are innocent in this regard, since we have already established that you sent the cold mage to spy in Expedition,¡± retorted Bee. I could tell by her flushed cheeks and brilliant gaze that she was just getting warmed up. ¡°Or do you mean to advance the argument that what is wrong for us to do is right for you to do? If we even were spies for General Camjiata, which we are not. I do not know what arrangements the Hassi Barahal clan made in the past with the general, but I assure you, Magister, that the day my parents handed Cat over to Four Moons House to spare me from being married off to a cold mage against my will, was the day I considered myself emancipated from their selfish affections.¡±

    His eyes narrowed. ¡°A fine and affecting speech, but I must suppose that legally you are still bound to them because you are an unmarried woman and such maidens can never be guardians of themselves.¡±

    Bee laughed so sarcastically that everyone in the kitchen jumped as at a gunshot. ¡°By which you mean to say, men like you do not wish such women to be guardians of themselves.¡±

    He ignored her in favor of measuring my body. ¡°I must assume you seduced Andevai in the usual way. You have that look about you that may make a young man feel hunger.¡±

    At the boardinghouse I had learned to scold any man who ogled me in such an insulting way, and I usually succeeded in getting the other customers to laugh at him.

    Bee murmured, ¡°Cat! Don¡¯t!¡±

    But I did.

    ¡°Rather, I would say that radical principles seduced him. Really, Your Excellency, you have only yourself to blame. Why should he serve an unjust system as if he were a horse placed in harness who has no choice but to pull lest he be whipped if he balks? Even so, Vai made you a vastly generous offer. If you would release the village of Haranwy from the clientage it has labored under for generations, he promised to serve you loyally. He would have sacrificed his own freedom and happiness to assure their liberty. You laughed at him.¡±

    ¡°I did nothing so crude as laugh. I gave him his sister¡¯s freedom, when in truth she ought to have been bred to see if more cold mages could be produced out of that family. It was far more than I needed to do!¡±

    ¡°Kayleigh is not a brood mare!¡±

    His lack of recognition betrayed that he had no idea that Vai¡¯s sister was named Kayleigh. ¡°That I released her shows my appreciation for his value to Four Moons House. We may hope he will sire children on you who have some measure of the strength he has¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a brood mare either!¡±

    ¡°¡ªbut the genealogies sung by the djeliw tell us that cold mages with such deep roots rarely breed children who possess as much potency. To think how many advantageous matches the House lost now he is wasted on you! We might have sent him on a successful Grand Tour and afterward prosperously negotiated for three or even four wives for one such as him. Even if he does not sire powerful children, many Houses are willing to make the try for grandchildren out of such a mage. Each marriage creates a rope that binds us and makes us stronger for the coming war.¡±

    ¡°Vai is not a stallion to be put out to stud!¡±

    ¡°He is what I choose to make him.¡±

    Bee tapped me sharply on the forearm to shush me.

    ¡°Are you saying your own children are not as potent cold mages as you so obviously are, Magister?¡± she asked with a sweet smile that startled the mansa and made the old djeli make a sign to avert disaster. ¡°Have you no lofty sons to inherit your princely seat as mansa of Four Moons House? Are you forced to conceive the awful thought that the young cold mage best suited to become mansa after you is a humble young man born to people who have been enslaved by clientage for so many generations that you cannot think of them as anything except lowborn inferiors whom you may breed like livestock? Yet think! The son of a prince may rule whether he do so wisely or well, and he shall have advisors and kinsmen to steady him. But the son of a magister who has no magic cannot be given magic, can he?¡±

    The temperature in the room dropped precipitously, making my eyes sting and my lips go dry. The mansa strode to the stove. With a look, he drove the soldiers from the kitchen. Accompanied by a horrible groaning strain, the door of the stove buckled.

    I kicked over the table and dragged Bee down behind it just as the thick iron door shattered like the hull of a boat shot to splinters. Bee screamed. Shards of metal thunked into the table so hard that a few almost pierced through, their jagged blades the visible threat of his astonishing power. My ears rang. My breathing was all torn to pieces.

    ¡°Blessed Tanit shelter us,¡± whispered Bee, her complexion gone a sickly gray-white.

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    I was shaking. ¡°You couldn¡¯t have known. Stay down!¡±

    As I rose, I drew my sword on the shimmering backwash of his magic. The cold steel glittered as if coated with burning oil, making the gloomy kitchen blaze with light.

    ¡°I cannot kill you, Your Excellency. Nor do I wish to. You lost Andevai not because I seduced him but because you refused to respect him as a man.¡±

    The djeli had survived the mansa¡¯s display of power unscathed, for he had his own secrets. He turned on me now. ¡°Maestra, keep silence.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t keep silence! You speak of fruitful alliances and breeding rights, but Andevai and Kayleigh are people the same as you.¡±

    The mansa frowned. ¡°Of course they are not the same as me! Their ancestors disgraced themselves and thus put their honor in chains.¡±

    ¡°Easy to speak of honor when you get to choose whose honor to champion. Is it the gods who foreordain our birth and position in life, or only chance? What if things had been different, if the history of the world had fallen out in another way? What if your people had been forced into chains? Would it not be wrong that a man of your power be whipped as a common laborer all his life just because of a chance of birth? Would it not be wrong that a man of your dignity be bound to a master who does not respect him and can use or discard or kill him without penalty? What then of your power and majesty? Why do you deny to Andevai what you assume for your own self?¡±

    ¡°You are a fatherless bastard. For you to believe you can lecture one such as me is not just absurd but unnatural. Andevai belongs to Four Moons House. As do you. Understand that I can kill you, and take no legal penalty for doing so.¡±

    ¡°Yet you have not done so!¡±

    A spark of cold fire winked into existence, then expanded into a globe of light. ¡°I admit to curiosity about a girl who can vanish and reappear at will. A girl who can walk into the spirit world and return to this one. A girl who can tell me where Andevai is.¡±

    Footsteps rapped along the passage. A magister wearing a fine indigo dash jacket under an unbuttoned winter coat stepped into the kitchen. I had seen him before; he was the mage who had unsuccessfully pursued me at Cold Fort, the one whose horse I had stolen.

    He made a clipped courtesy to the mansa. ¡°Uncle, we found this man¡ª¡±

    The mansa smiled triumphantly at me. ¡°Ah. My nephew has found him despite your efforts to shield him.¡±

    Rory sauntered in, toying with the end of his long braid. ¡°Cat? Do you want me to¡ª?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± I exclaimed, just as Bee said, ¡°No!¡±

    The mansa stared, startled by Rory¡¯s appearance. The djeli tried to catch Rory¡¯s image in the mirror¡¯s slippery surface, but all he saw was a saber-toothed cat. I studied the young magister, tracing the family resemblance between him and the mansa.

    The young man caught me looking. ¡°Caught you this time, haven¡¯t we? You¡¯ll not escape my uncle now he has taken an interest in you himself.¡±

    I offered him a courtesy, to mock him. ¡°My apologies about the horse.¡±

    Despite my sword, the fool took a step toward me, a hand raised as if he believed he could slap me.

    ¡°Enough, Jata,¡± said the mansa. ¡°Do not touch her.¡±

    The young mage turned away from me at once. ¡°The village boy is close by, Uncle, I¡¯m sure of it. He doesn¡¯t have the wit to hide, thinking himself so much better than he is.¡±

    ¡°Your envy serves you ill, Jata,¡± said the mansa. ¡°Go out and look again. Find him.¡±

    The nephew¡¯s eyes flared with anger, but he made no retort. Instead, he tramped out.

    The mansa gestured toward my sword. ¡°However curious I am about you, Catherine Barahal, I will order my soldiers to kill you and your companions if you cannot bring me Andevai.¡±

    Rory¡¯s lips curled back. Bee took a step toward me.

    I was not a fool. I lowered my blade. ¡°Andevai is in the spirit world. Perhaps with your help, I can get him back.¡±

    The mansa laughed, but the djeli did not.

    With a frown, the mansa reconsidered. ¡°Bakary, is she telling the truth?¡±

    ¡°A mirror is the water that allows me to look onto the other side, Mansa,¡± said the old man. ¡°It should be possible to discover if she lies or speaks truth. Especially since the mirror in this house is the mirror through which their marriage was chained.¡±

    I had been racing down one path, thinking I might convince the mansa to convey us to Haranwy. Like a noose at my throat, the djeli¡¯s words yanked me to a halt.

    ¡°What do you mean, Honored One, that a mirror is the water?¡± I asked.

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    ¡°It is not solid, like stone, and yet not lacking substance, like air. Therefore, it is water, for we djeliw can see through it to the spirit world which lies both beneath and above us.¡±

    I caught Bee¡¯s gaze with my own, looked down at the packs, and back up to her. Her brow wrinkled as she grasped and considered my unspoken plan. I was playing a very deep game of batey, about to try a hit whose arc would pass right over every person near me with but a small chance of reaching the stone eye that was the goal.

    Upstairs, the front door opened and closed. Footsteps approached.

    A soldier appeared at the kitchen door. ¡°Mansa! The legate has arrived.¡±

    With a sucked-in hiss, Bee closed her hands into fists. We managed to grab the packs before soldiers herded us up the stairs after the mansa. The chest, with most of Vai¡¯s dash jackets, had to be left behind, but fortunately no one seemed to notice that my sword was still unsheathed. I wondered if they could see the blade now that the mansa¡¯s magic had faded.

    In the entry hall the mansa greeted Amadou Barry and Lord Marius, speaking with his own voice to equals. ¡°It is good you came quickly. I have momentous news. I received word this morning that General Camjiata has landed at Gadir.¡±

    Bee and I glanced at each other as Lord Marius exclaimed, ¡°At Gadir! He has returned to Iberia! That is the news we feared most!¡±

    Amadou Barry marked us as we climbed into view. His red-and-gold half-cape glistened with raindrops, and made him look quite dashing. ¡°Beatrice! I knew you would return to me!¡±

    Bee¡¯s expression was one of the queenly pride that we of Kena¡¯ani upbringing call the Dido¡¯s Fury, a womanly emotion associated with the famous story of the dido and Aeneas, when the queen realized the untrustworthy Roman soldier of fortune had been seeking to rule over her through marriage.

    ¡°Legate Amadou Barry! I did not expect to meet you here! Nor, indeed, was any meeting with you a thing I desired, not after our last unfortunate encounter and the condescending insult you offered me. I realize that a man of your exceedingly high position in the world and your exceptional wealth and standing must look at a young woman such as myself with disdain. You may consider my impoverished circumstances and Phoenician connections to be marks against me which you are gracious enough to overlook. But I assure you I am proud of who I am and where I come from. I was sorely mistaken in what manner of man I thought you were. I now understand you are not the sort of man on whom a vulnerable young woman is wise to cast her hopes.¡±

    Every man except Rory was staring at Bee with expressions so broad that only actors playing in a farce would have used such gaping mouths to express shocked surprise. I choked down a laugh as I nudged Rory with my hip and indicated he should take the packs to the stairs.

    ¡°Indeed, I am done with all of you lordly men!¡± Bee¡¯s gaze flashed sideways to note Rory¡¯s movement, then back to her audience. ¡°You believe you have the right to own me merely because you wish to possess me. Some of you desire to control me because I walk the dreams of dragons and others because you consider me beautiful. But I am not your property to be handed about or exchanged according to your desire rather than my own. Be sure that I realize you are all far more powerful in this world than I am, for I am only a young woman whose household has neither wealth nor noble status to raise it into the ranks of those who stand on high and look down upon the low. Be sure that I realize you could kill me, or arrest me, or forcibly assault me, or purchase me from the elders of Hassi Barahal house if you offered them a rich enough inducement or a frightening enough threat. We who are not protected by wealth and high station are so vulnerable in the world, are we not?¡±

    ¡°You cannot be Beatrice Hassi Barahal!¡± Amadou Barry looked as if he had seen a poisonous snake unexpectedly rearing up out of thick grass. ¡°You are some manner of malevolent spirit who has taken the form of an innocent girl.¡±

    ¡°Not as innocent as you would wish, Legate!¡± she said with a smoldering gaze that made his face pinch as she looked him up and down in a frankly sexual way. ¡°Did you not murmur in the greenhouse that you wished to instruct me in the music of sweet pleasure? That I would be an ¡®apt pupil¡¯ if only I let you take command of my heart and my more intimate parts?¡±

    Lord Marius whistled under his breath. ¡°Ripe Venus! No wonder your courtship failed!¡±

    It was all I could do not to burst out laughing at the way her erstwhile suitor¡¯s hands crushed into fists and his face tensed with anger at her plain speaking. I was sure Bee felt my shaking, for she swept an axe-blow glance in my direction to warn me to keep my peace.

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    ¡°How was it you phrased it, Legate?¡± She tapped a finger against her perfect chin as she glanced at the ceiling for inspiration. ¡°What awkward poetic phrases did you use to describe my¡ª¡±

    ¡°You dare not mock me in this impertinent way.¡±

    ¡°I am mocking you, Legate. You considered me beneath you, and you meant that in so many different ways. But I am not the woman you wish me to be. I never was.¡±

    She dismissed Amadou Barry with a proud lift of her chin and settled her implacable gaze on the mansa of Four Moons House. He was staring at her with an expression of outright astonishment, but I could see the beginnings of a condescending smile pull at his lips. The clock ticked over and rang six bells. No one moved until the last echo of the sixth bell died away.

    ¡°You may think me amusing, Mansa,¡± she said, ¡°for I must suppose you are now thinking I am a fiery little lass ripe for plucking by a strong man in his prime. But I do not find you amusing, nor do you awe me, you and your cold magic. You would have murdered my dearest cousin just for the sake of getting hold of my dreams.¡±

    ¡°I do what I must,¡± he said, with a frown at her rebuke. ¡°You do not understand the consequences.¡±

    ¡°I do not understand the consequences? My dearest cousin is the one who would have died, had your command been carried out. I would have been forced to marry a man against my will, and been cast into your House as a prisoner. You couldn¡¯t have protected me from the Wild Hunt regardless. I would have been dismembered and my head thrown in a well. So don¡¯t tell me that I am the one who does not understand the consequences.¡±

    Rory had moved halfway up the stairs, while I stood on the first step. Bee unlaced the basket and pulled out the skull. There was a struggling silence, broken at last by Lord Marius.

    ¡°Whose skull is that?¡±

    ¡°This?¡± she asked with a flutter of eyelashes. ¡°This is the skull of my mother-in-law.¡±

    ¡°Did you smite her dead with a scolding lecture?¡± the soldier asked with a laugh.

    ¡°Married!¡± Amadou Barry¡¯s face was cut with a look of sheer jealous rage. He took a step toward her, but Lord Marius fastened a hand on his arm, halting him. ¡°Who married you?¡±

    Bee ignored him. ¡°I did not smite her. I rather liked her, and I believe she rather liked me, although we did not have the leisure to come to know each other well before the unpleasant incident in which she died. I show this to you, Mansa, to let you know that legally you have no grounds to force me to your will. I am a nitaino¡ªa noble woman of independent means¡ªin the Taino kingdom. No court and not even my family can use the threat of legal possession over me now. I have standing under Taino law.¡±

    ¡°How did your mother-in-law die?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Why, thank you for asking, Cat.¡± She swept them with a combative gaze. ¡°The Wild Hunt killed her on Hallows¡¯ Night. They dismembered her and threw her head in a well.¡±

    ¡°Bright Jupiter!¡± muttered Amadou Barry.

    When she pressed a hand to her delicate throat, they all flinched.

    ¡°Cold mages are themselves at risk of being hunted down on Hallows¡¯ Night. I understand it is the reason mage Houses are reluctant to rise to positions of political power in the world. Power draws the Hunt as scent draws hounds.¡±

    Amadou Barry and Lord Marius gave each other startled looks. They had clearly never known there might be a hidden reason the mage Houses did not set themselves up as princes and emperors in their own right.

    The mansa had not gained control of Four Moons House by being impulsive, thoughtless, crude, or impatient, but even his temper had its limits. ¡°These secrets are not yours to share.¡±

    ¡°Who is to stop me from sharing them?¡± exclaimed Bee. ¡°Will you kill me right now with your magic? Crush me with cold? Shatter me like iron?¡±

    Ice crackled across the tabletop. Bee smiled so gloatingly that had that smile been turned on me, I would have slapped her; it had happened, on one of the rare occasions when we fought.

    ¡°I would have you stop and consider one thing before you act, Mansa,¡± she said.

    ¡°What we thought was a log has revealed itself as a crocodile,¡± remarked Bakary.

    ¡°I expect you mean to tell us, Maestressa, for you have quite the storyteller¡¯s gift,¡± said Lord Marius appreciatively.

    ¡°My thanks,¡± she said with a pretty courtesy. ¡°Queen Anacaona died because the Wild Hunt must take blood on Hallows¡¯ Night. Because I was hidden from the Wild Hunt, Queen Anacaona was taken in my place. Isn¡¯t that a thing you would like to know how to do, Magister?¡±

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    ¡°Die in your place?¡± said the mansa.

    Bee laughed with genuine amusement at his jest. ¡°Would you willingly die in my place, to spare me?¡±

    His smile flashed. Its easy charm shocked me. One could never look at the mansa and see him as anything except a man of exceptional status and self-confidence, because he lived at the pinnacle of rank and wealth. I had not known the man had a sense of humor, or was able to laugh at himself. The obvious had blinded me: All along Vai had modeled his arrogant behavior on the mansa¡¯s, because Vai had been trying to be like the man who commanded his life.

    ¡°You intend to trade the secret of how you hid from the Wild Hunt in exchange for your freedom,¡± said the mansa. ¡°How like a Phoenician!¡±

    ¡°I have not relinquished my claim to her!¡± cried the legate.

    The mansa looked Amadou Barry up and down in a way that reminded me of Vai at his most obnoxiously cutting. ¡°Legate, I mean no offense, but to offer to make a woman your mistress is not a claim. I will offer her a legal standing within Four Moons House while you are merely demanding she gratify your sexual desire for her.¡±

    ¡°I will marry her! She belongs to me!¡±

    ¡°I do not belong to you, Amadou!¡± cried Bee so indignantly that a suspicion flowered that she still retained a partiality toward the man. ¡°Perhaps I do not want to marry any man. Perhaps I no longer see marriage as a contract that can benefit me. Look at my poor dear cousin, chained to a man against her will. Is this all I am to be allowed to hope for? I have decided it is not.¡±

    ¡°Yes, quite magnificent,¡± Lord Marius said with a shade too much sarcasm for my liking. ¡°You can¡¯t marry her, Amadou. The day after tomorrow you are to marry the prince of Tarrant¡¯s daughter. I shall have to take charge. You are all dazzled by her fabled beauty, as the Hellenes of old squabbled over a woman and all for her cherry lips and fulsome bosom¡ª¡±

    ¡°In fact,¡± I corrected, ¡°Helen was the heiress to Sparta, a splendidly rich kingdom. They were fighting over her inheritance, not her beauty.¡±

    ¡°¡ªbut I am not willing to lose the war we are fated to fight because of a squabble over a woman. If we do not use her gift of dreaming, then General Camjiata will. You all know I have no interest in her comely person, so I will take her into my custody until we have sorted out how to best make use of her dreaming to defeat Camjiata.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Lord Marius, I surrender most humbly and gratefully, knowing I am to be well kept by such notable personages as yourselves,¡± she said, wielding the blade of sarcasm. ¡°I must say, at least General Camjiata pretended to give me a choice. There is something about the illusion that makes one like a man better for the sake of his wishing to be polite. Yet what can a poor young female do in circumstances such as mine? I will languish in the cage of your making and never learn those things I dream of learning. Meanwhile, naturally, you will find my lips are sealed and my secrets untold. The mansa will never learn how I hid from the Wild Hunt in a way cold mages might also protect themselves.¡±

    Lord Marius ran a hand over the lime-whitened spikes of his short hair. ¡°Let me speak clearly. If you try to escape and refuse to cooperate, we will have to kill you rather than risk your falling back into the hands of Camjiata. What baffles me is why the general let you go. He used the dreams of his wife to remain a step ahead of us in his first war. Any good strategist would keep you close and use your dreams to benefit his campaign.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think he let us go?¡± I replied. ¡°We escaped him, too. We do not mean to be owned or manipulated by any man. Not him, and not any of you.¡±

    The mansa took hold of my chin. His stare was a command demanding I give up my secrets. I gazed back with all the mulish determination I possessed. He intimidated me. While Vai had edges made of insecurity and youthful pride, the mansa had the surety of a man who has never doubted his worth, his high station, or his honor.

    ¡°Maybe it is not to be wondered at that the boy believes himself in love with you. You defied me, and lived to speak of it. He has too much pride. He resented the natural dislike the other boys felt for him, so he refused to acknowledge their higher station. When his magic bloomed to its fullness, he forced them to their knees, just to let them know he could do it. But he never defied me. Never. Not until you did.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s very gratifying, Your Excellency.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mock me, Catherine. Where is Andevai?¡±

    ¡°He is in the spirit world. I need only look into the mirror upstairs to find him.¡±

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    ¡°Can it be done, Bakary?¡± the mansa asked. ¡°She is not a djlelimuso, a woman of craft and words who can bind the threads of power.¡±

    Bakary rubbed his gray beard. ¡°I can see into the spirit world but cannot cross, while you can do neither, Your Excellency. I was taught that only the dead cross into the spirit world.¡± He glanced at Rory as he spoke the words. ¡°Her flesh is living flesh, like ours, yet she has crossed.¡±

    Did they not know that the hunters of Vai¡¯s village could walk into the spirit world at the cross-quarter days in order to hunt? I kept silence.

    The mansa released my chin. ¡°Very well. Show me.¡±

    I took the skull and tucked it into the basket. We climbed the stairs. A year and a half ago, I had descended them from the second floor while Andevai had ascended from the entryway. It was strange to return to the place where he and I had first looked on each other, face-to-face. Then, I had wanted nothing more than for him to leave us all alone. Now, I wanted nothing more than to find him.

    I dragged the cover off the mirror.

    Illuminated by the dregs of fading daylight and a single sphere of cold fire, the mirror reflected the seven people gathered on the landing. I had never realized how my hair writhed as if in a wind blowing off the spirit world. Did my eyes really gleam in that unexpected fashion, like polished amber? A sleek saber-toothed cat watched, waiting for my signal. No whisper of spirit-world magic tangled through Bee, but there was a smoky gleam in her eyes and on her forehead, as if a third eye was about to sprout there.

    Lord Marius examined the mirror with the attention of a man trained to strike at the opportune moment. He looked exactly as he seemed. Amadou Barry stared at Beatrice. His visage had an avaricious glint that made him seem less handsome and more selfish.

    The mansa¡¯s cold magic chased around him like the currents of many streams. One of those currents lashed out into the silvery depths of the mirror as the air around us fell suddenly colder. He was pulling in energy from the other side with which to weave here, although I had no idea how he was doing it.

    Of us all, Bakary¡¯s was the most solid presence in the mirror: an old man with silver-black hair and a calm gaze.

    The glittering chain with which another djeli had bound me to Andevai flowed into the mirror. I brushed my fingers across its gleam. Magic thrummed like a pulse anchored to Vai¡¯s heart.

    ¡°Catherine? Where are you?¡± Vai whispered, as if he felt my attention. ¡°Beware, love. Think with your mind, not your body.¡±

    The tremor of his beloved voice so shocked me that I yanked on the chain.

    It moved. Or I moved. Or the world moved.

    Past the surface of the mirror, my gaze spanned the depths as if I were an eagle gliding above and watching the land roll past beneath. Mountains and valleys skimmed by below. Outside a walled town, peaceful eru worked and laughed and gossiped in the same manner as ordinary people did in the mortal world, only the eru were creatures of the spirit world with wings, third eyes in the center of their foreheads, and magic more powerful than that of any cold mage. The fields they farmed were sown in spirals. The beasts they shepherded were antelopes whose triple horns were studded by gemstones and glazed as with silver. A bloated beast like a slothfully blinking airship drifted past above the black line of a road and the warded triangle of a watering hole. A clan of tawny saber-toothed cats had gathered to nose at the pool, lick at a pillar of salt, and lounge in the shade of a tree.

    Light flashed on the horizon. Where the land ended in a long straight shoreline, it met not water but the ashy ocean that we had traversed in the belly of a dragon, the Great Smoke. A tide of dark mist washed in, spilling over the land like the sweep of a broom. Beneath the smoke the land vanished. Only the road and warded ground remained unmoved and unchanged. My rope of magic held firm, but when the tide receded back into the smoky churn of the depths, the shoreline had changed.

    The once-straight shoreline was now cut by fingerlike bays, as if the Great Smoke had taken bites out of the spirit land. The bloated air beast had vanished, although a large animal lumbered over a field of thorns, crushing all under its hooves. Eru rose in a cloud from the warded walls of their town, but they did not see me. I thought that maybe I wasn¡¯t even really there, that the chain acted like a hunter¡¯s scent to lead me toward my prey. Was this chain how Vai could always find me?

    A white cliff towered above a lake riddled with icebergs. At first I thought it was an ice shelf, but as I swooped closer I realized it was a fortress built of crystal.

    I slammed right into its wall.

    The impact jolted me out of the vision. I found myself back on the first-floor landing with my right arm halfway into the mirror as if plunged up to the elbow in water, and the rest of me standing in front of the mirror blinking back tears. The heat of summer baked like sun on the arm that was thrust into the spirit world, while the rest of my body shivered in the cold house.

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    Bakary spoke behind me. ¡°Don¡¯t touch her, Your Excellency.¡±

    ¡°If Lord Marius stabs her with his sword, will she die?¡± asked the mansa.

    Never let it be said I could not throw caution to the winds and just take the leap.

    ¡°Rory, take off your clothes. Bee, the mirror is water. You can cross if you will come.¡±

    ¡°Of course I will!¡± cried Bee.

    I cut my skin. Blood streamed from the gloomy spring chill of the mortal world into the hot blaze of the spirit world. When my sword¡¯s tip grazed the surface, the mirror peeled back like an eye opening. Was this part of the power I had as a spiritwalker? With my blood to seed it, could cold steel open a gate through which others could cross?

    Steel flared at my back, felt on my tongue as the gritty remains of a blacksmith¡¯s forge. Lord Marius had drawn his sword.

    ¡°She can¡¯t be allowed to escape!¡± cried Amadou Barry.

    ¡°Follow me!¡± I cried.

    I fell through, pouring like blood through the gash.

    17

    My knees thumped onto stony ground. Black night enveloped me, unrelieved by moon or stars. As I lifted my sword arm defensively, fire waxed the blade as a shimmering steel gleam.

    ¡°Ah! Something stung me!¡±

    ¡°Bee?¡±

    I held the sword aloft, searching for her in the aura of the blade¡¯s light. Just in front of me a wall rose into the darkness, its face too smooth and high to climb. The surrounding land was covered with tall grass as far as the light from my sword reached. I did not see Bee, but I heard a whine like insects swarming.

    ¡°Bee!¡± I called.

    Grass crackled. A huge cat with wicked curving canines and eyes as golden as my own sprang up to me. He nudged me with his head, then licked my forearm where a trickle of blood oozed along my skin. The rough trail of his tongue startled me into a laugh.

    ¡°Cat?¡± Bee¡¯s voice rose out of the darkness. I still could not see her, but she sounded panicked. ¡°Everything hates me here. This wasn¡¯t a good idea! Ouch!¡±

    ¡°Where are you?¡± I cried.

    Rory loped into the darkness. The whining spiked into a shrill buzzing. The big cat returned out of the gloom with Bee pressed to his side. She was waving an arm frantically in the air. I made a few cuts of my sword around her. The buzzing vanished as a cloud of tiny creatures scattered.

    She dumped the packs at my feet. ¡°I hope you¡¯re happy, Cat. I didn¡¯t think I would really cross through. I only meant to pretend to do so, because I was afraid you would refuse to go if you thought I was in danger.¡±

    ¡°You were in danger!¡±

    ¡°At least there I could have thrown myself into Amadou Barry¡¯s arms if I had no other choice. Here I¡¯m going to get eaten, and you¡¯re going to have to carry all this alone.¡±

    The cat sniffed at Bee, then staggered sideways in a showy manner as if her smell revolted him.

    ¡°Stop that!¡± She smacked him on the nose. ¡°You may find your puerile jokes amusing, Rory, but I don¡¯t!¡±

    A cry like that of a rabbit being disemboweled shrieked out of the darkness. Bee leaped backward, only to slam into the wall. Rory pounced in front of her as his tail lashed. Wings fluttered in the grass. The scrape of a sword being drawn shuddered the air, followed by a leaden thump, a squawk of anger, and a battering like a body being beaten to death.

    A figure lumbered out of the darkness.

    ¡°Bright Jupiter! What is this cursed Tartarus? Where are we?¡±

    Amadou Barry thrashed out of the grass and into the circle of light made by my sword¡¯s gleam. He had his military hat in one hand and a drawn sword in the other. The blade was coated with a viscous fluid to which white feathers clung.

    ¡°What attacked me?¡±

    Rory opened his jaws to display his teeth. Amadou raised his sword.

    ¡°The cat is our ally,¡± I said sharply. I looked up, hearing the flutter of wings. ¡°Down! Get down!¡±

    Of course he did not comply. Why would a patrician Roman legate who was also a Fula prince listen to a bastard girl whose mother was a northern barbarian and had been an Amazon soldier in the army of his most hated enemy besides?

    A creature with a human body and the head and claws of a harpy struck, claws closing on his shoulder. Hat and sword fell as he shouted in pain and shock. The beast lurched upward, trying to carry him away, but his mortal weight brought it to a crashing halt.

    I lunged. My focus narrowed to the beast¡¯s emotionless face, for it looked not like a woman but like a creature wearing the mask of a woman. The tip of my blade pierced its golden eye. Its howl shuddered down my blade. I pulled back. My blade slid free as ichor sprayed. In a thunder of wings it sprang into the air and vanished from sight, bleats fading as it flew away.

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    Bee dropped beside the legate, who lay facedown on trampled grass.

    ¡°Bee, is he dead?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°I¡¯m not dead.¡± Amadou sat up with a wince. His fancy cape was shredded. Blood stained his tunic.

    Ghastly cries chittered out of the darkness. Huffing heat as of a steam engine chugging stirred the wind. Perhaps my tone was harsh, but I had no patience for ridiculous displays of masculine pride. ¡°Next time you should listen to me, Legate. The spirit world will kill you.¡±

    ¡°Legate?¡± said Bee gently. ¡°May I help you rise¡ª?¡±

    ¡°I do not need your help.¡± He shook her off and rose with a grunt of pain.

    ¡°You¡¯re just angry that she spoke those truthful words to you which you do not want to hear and aren¡¯t accustomed to hearing,¡± I retorted, for I could see Bee¡¯s expression twist as she pretended not to be hurt by his curt rejection. ¡°Why were you so stupid as to follow us?¡±

    ¡°To take Beatrice back. You may remain in black Tartarus for all I care.¡±

    Bee gasped, but I forestalled her retort.

    ¡°How do you intend to take her back, Legate? You have no idea where we are or what to do here. Your steel won¡¯t cut the creatures here, although you can beat them with the hilt until they eat you. That creature would have killed you just now if Rory and I hadn¡¯t fought it off.¡±

    Rory¡¯s tail lashed in agreement.

    ¡°Rory, if there are more creatures gathering out there to kill us, lick your right paw.¡±

    He stared at me with a look I was sure was one of reproach for the inanity of the question. Then he licked his right paw.

    ¡°Why are you talking to a monstrous saber-toothed cat as if it can understand you?¡± asked Amadou Barry. ¡°Where are we? With what magical illusion have you confounded my eyes?¡±

    I ignored him. ¡°Bee, take the head of Queen Anacaona out of the basket.¡±

    ¡°How can a skull help us?¡± Amadou picked up his sword from the ground and brandished it in what I supposed he thought was a manly way. ¡°You two girls need protection. That¡¯s why we must return to the house and the mansa.¡±

    ¡°In the spirit world, the head of Queen Anacaona is not a skull,¡± I snapped, really exasperated now. ¡°Please be polite.¡±

    ¡°My apologies for the rude handling, Your Highness,¡± Bee said in a choked voice as she wrestled open the basket. I could hear how humiliated she was, and how hard she was trying to hide it. ¡°We are hoping your wisdom and experience may aid us.¡±

    I was watching Amadou Barry, astounded that the man was too blind to comprehend that he was no longer in a world where his patrician rank or military training meant anything. When Bee lifted the living head of Queen Anacaona out of the basket, he recoiled a step, then pulled himself up short, staring as the cacica blinked to get her bearings.

    His mouth creased downward. ¡°What cruel illusion is this?¡±

    Queen Anacaona said, ¡°Turn that way, Beatrice. There are four creatures running toward us. I suggest we move to a safer domicile.¡±

    ¡°There is no safer domicile, Your Highness,¡± I replied. ¡°Legate, stay back.¡±

    Naturally the legate moved up alongside me, no doubt to impress Bee. Even injured, he looked as if he knew how to handle himself in a fight. He just didn¡¯t have any weapons that would work here. Bee dug into one of the packs and hefted a hammer.

    Snarling, Rory sprang past me into the night. Two wolves dodged past him into the light shed by my sword. With a crosscut to the head, I sliced one hard across the muzzle and sidestepped with a turn to slash up under the belly of the second. Cold steel hit them like poison. They both collapsed. Snarls and growls punctuated a dirty fight farther out. I ran toward the sound to find Rory with his jaws at the throat of a third wolf, clamping down until the beast stopped thrashing and went limp.

    ¡°There¡¯s one more,¡± I said.

    Bee shouted a warning.

    I bolted back in time to see the fourth wolf leap toward Bee as Amadou Barry jumped between them. I grabbed its tail and yanked it sideways with me as I fell. The animal landed square on top of me, punching the air from my lungs. It twisted, shaking up to its feet as its head swung around to bite my face.

    Rory slammed into it, and they went rolling away into the darkness in a crash of noise, followed by a yelp. Rory paced back into view. He looked quite dreadfully powerful, muscles rippling beneath his dark flanks and shoulders. Facing into the darkness, he roared. His challenge shook through air and earth like a living thing. When he paused, the night had fallen as silent as if every creature near enough to hear thought it prudent to rethink its strategy.

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    ¡°Cat?¡± Bee¡¯s voice was remarkably level. ¡°Are you hurt?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not touched.¡± I was shaking, not with fear but with fight. I was ready to rip out the throat of the next creature that attacked Bee. ¡°We need to move. Find a gate to get you and the legate back to the mortal world.¡±

    ¡°This is a constant nightmare of death!¡± cried Amadou Barry. ¡°Have we truly crossed into Tartarus, where the ancestors bide? Where skulls are wreathed in the form of living heads? Where every monster seeks to kill?¡±

    Ignoring him, I slung on the pack with Vai¡¯s tools and started walking. ¡°I¡¯d call Rory¡¯s pride to protect us, but we¡¯ve no warded ground in sight where they can shelter if a tide rips through.¡±

    I led with my sword, keeping my right shoulder next to the wall. Bee followed with the other two packs, slung on before and behind her, and the cacica¡¯s head held out in front to guide us. Amadou Barry limped behind her, and Rory brought up the rear. The ground alongside the wall was stony, marked with patches of lichen. Eyes glowed in the night like pairs of fireflies, softly ominous.

    ¡°What is a tide?¡± Amadou Barry demanded. ¡°Why is everything here attacking us?¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help but want to rub his nose in his ignorance. ¡°Since you seem to think we do not know what we are about, I should like to inform you of what you do not know. Now and again young women are born who walk the dreams of dragons in their sleep.¡±

    ¡°I know that!¡± he protested. After a hesitation, he said, ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°All you powerful men want Bee to make use of her dreams to fulfill your own ambitions.¡±

    ¡°We merely wish to keep her out of the hands of the Iberian Monster so he cannot use her dreams to conquer Europa.¡±

    I snorted.

    ¡°If that was your only purpose, Legate,¡± said Bee in a low voice, ¡°then I am surprised at the insulting offer you made me.¡±

    ¡°Bright Venus, but you Phoenicians are too proud!¡±

    I cut in before they could tumble into what would seem too much like a lovers¡¯ quarrel. ¡°The tides of those dreams wash the spirit world like great waves of smoke. Where the smoke washes, the land is wiped clean. Every thing and every creature that is touched by the smoke is changed. Except for warded ground, which is what we¡¯re looking for now. The creatures who live in the spirit world hate dragon dreamers and want to kill Bee.¡±

    ¡°This is the most outrageous tale I have ever heard,¡± he said, but the tremor in his voice made me realize he was actually listening.

    ¡°Perhaps my vision deceives me,¡± said the cacica, ¡°but it seems we are not going anywhere.¡±

    ¡°These walls are certainly of greater circumference than the walls of Rome,¡± said Amadou, as if relieved to have the conversation change to a subject on which he might account himself an expert.

    ¡°Who is this young man?¡± asked the cacica. ¡°He has not asked to be brought to my notice. Yet he speaks as if I had requested his opinion.¡±

    ¡°I do not need anyone¡¯s permission to speak!¡± said Amadou.

    I squelched an urge to punch him.

    ¡°Your pardon, Your Highness,¡± said Bee. ¡°It was rude of me to forget my manners.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t sure I liked Bee¡¯s simpering expression as she introduced Amadou Barry to the cacica as a young man of high rank like to that of the nobles of the Taino kingdom. The cacica was not impressed by his grudging courtesy. I wasn¡¯t either. But I had more urgent concerns. Ahead lay a sprinkle of drying ichor and a mat of white feathers whose pattern I recognized.

    ¡°Blessed Tanit! We¡¯ve come back to where we started. It¡¯s not that we¡¯re not going anywhere. We¡¯re going in a circle around a wall with no entry. The chain that binds me to Andevai can pierce the wall but we can¡¯t.¡± I poked at the wall with the tip of my sword. Its substance remained stubbornly hard. ¡°He¡¯s inside, but we have no gate.¡±

    ¡°No gate?¡± remarked the cacica, in surprise. ¡°You cut a gate once in the fence the behiques raised around Kiskeya, young woman. As you well recall, since it was through that gate my murderer entered my realm. Why can you not cut a gate here in the same manner?¡±

    Amadou Barry rudely spoke right over her words.

    ¡°You just claimed to know what you are about in this place,¡± he said in the tone of a man who has had enough of the pretensions of the lesser folk. ¡°It is time you girls gave up this fruitless quest and returned to Adurnam with me.¡±

    Bee turned to look out toward the horizon. ¡°Cat! A light is rising. A dragon is turning in her sleep. I can feel the smoke of her dreams rushing toward us.¡±

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    A blaze of white fire splintered the darkness, rolling toward us across a flat, grassy landscape.

    ¡°Rory! Come here! Bee, get hold of him. Legate, grab Beatrice¡¯s hand.¡±

    Shuddering with fear, Rory pushed up against Bee as I sheathed my sword and flung one arm around her and with the other grabbed a hank of Rory¡¯s pelt. My hip was pressed into Rory¡¯s heaving side.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± demanded Amadou Barry.

    ¡°Legate, if you don¡¯t grab hold of her now, you will be swept away¡ª¡±

    ¡°Blessed Tanit!¡± exclaimed Bee.

    The tide of the dream, like daylight, illuminated a crowd of animals creeping toward us out of the night. The beasts seemed oblivious to the tide because they were so intent on murdering Bee.

    ¡°Brave Jupiter! I shall fight them off!¡± Amadou advanced like a hero, sword raised to threaten the beasts.

    The tide swept down, ripping through them, tearing a gash through the world.

    ¡°Amadou!¡± cried Bee, dropping the hammer. ¡°Grab hold of my hand!¡±

    The light cut through me. The earth fell away as the world tipped to spill me into an abyss through which I would fall for eternity. But Bee was my rock. She was the pillar that no earthquake or storm could dislodge. She was warded ground.

    Amadou Barry did not reach for her. The tide struck him full on. One moment I saw his body clearly, streaked with currents of shining smoke. Then he tumbled into an unseen gash in the fabric of the world. The tide of the dream streamed on, leaving us trembling in its wake as the earth shuddered back into solidity under our feet.

    Rory nudged me, and I let go of Bee and knelt to bury my face in his thick black pelt. After I caught my breath, I raised my eyes.

    Bee did not move. In one hand she still held the head of Queen Anacaona. Her other arm was extended, but her hand was empty.

    She swayed as if caught in a gust of wind, then crumpled to her knees and began weeping.

    The tide had taken him.

    I was so furious at Amadou Barry for being an idiot who wouldn¡¯t listen that I simply could not speak one word.

    Those who are caught in the tide of a dragon¡¯s dream never come back.

    The head of Queen Anacaona stared across a stony plain, now empty of life. The tide had swept away the animals who stalked us. Even the wind had died, leaving flat red earth and a cold gray sky. Behind us the impenetrable wall now appeared as a windowless but modest tower no larger than a watchtower on a Roman wall. The tower was the only object visible in this parched desert. There were not even hills marking the horizon.

    ¡°My ancestors built a fence around our kingdom so the tides of the Great Smoke would not trouble our ancestors,¡± the cacica remarked, as if she were accustomed to seeing people vanish in such an abrupt and shocking manner. ¡°All of Soraya, our spirit land, became warded ground. Therefore, our wise and beloved grandparents remain close beside us, to advise us in times of need and to celebrate with us at the festivals.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t he hold on to me?¡± The way Bee¡¯s voice cracked broke my heart, or it would have, had I a heart.

    ¡°Because he couldn¡¯t bring himself to trust us,¡± I said.

    Tears streaked her face. ¡°Don¡¯t you care?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have time to care! Not if I want to save your life and rescue Vai.¡± Feeling helpless made me want to kick something. I kept thinking Amadou Barry was about to step into view from around the tower, but we were alone. ¡°Why did the chain bring me here only to abandon us in this desert?¡±

    ¡°I believe this must be a puzzle,¡± said the cacica. ¡°A piece that fits inside another piece. Just as the behiques of the Taino kingdom built fences to protect our lands, might not the lords of these spirit lands have built fences to close off their places of power? In the palace at Sharagua there are walls inside walls where only some have the privilege and power to enter, and others are forbidden. Could this tower be a gate onto such an inner and more sacred realm?¡±

    ¡°If it is, I don¡¯t know how to cut a way through! Bee! That¡¯s enough! We can cry later!¡±

    After taking in a breath, she wiped her eyes. Her voice was a slobbery mess, but her words were clear. ¡°The hammer wasn¡¯t swept away.¡±

    On shaking legs she rose holding the cacica¡¯s head in one hand and Vai¡¯s hammer in the other. She would have looked comical if she hadn¡¯t worn red, puffy eyes and a mask of tragedy.

    ¡°Does no one listen to the wisdom of the elders?¡± asked the cacica. ¡°Are young people taught nothing in these days? Are they all as disrespectful as that unpleasant young man? It is blood the maku spirit lords crave, and blood that feeds them. Life pulses in our blood. They who are without life will drink of the salt of our blood so they can mask themselves in the shape of the living. Blood will cut a gate that they wish to remain closed.¡±

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    Of course! What was I thinking? Blood cuts the gate.

    Rory hissed. Wisps of clouds scudded our way. The earth stirred as if hidden carnivores were pushing up from underneath. Out on the plain a pack of lean wolves trotted into view. They would never stop trying to kill Bee.

    I nicked my arm and smeared the dribble of blood on the wall. The blood bubbled, eating into the wall until the surface dissolved into a jumbled mass of translucent crystal. When I laid my shoulder into it, the substance crumbled away to form a crude tunnel, something like the gate I had cut in the Taino spirit fence.

    ¡°Go! Go!¡±

    Rory and Bee pushed past me and vanished into a blaze of bright light. Salt stung my eyes and made the fresh cuts on my arm burn. Behind me an animal growled, and teeth snapped close by my feet. I flung myself toward the light, and slammed into stone hard enough that the impact momentarily stunned me.

    A blowsy breath warmed my cheek. A tongue licked my closed eyes.

    ¡°Stop that!¡± I opened my eyes to find myself embracing a granite pillar about the height of a man. To my left rose a sapling oak. To my right shone a clear pool. We had crossed onto warded ground. Rory nudged me again, and I let go of the pillar.

    ¡°Cat! There you are! I thought we¡¯d lost you!¡± Bee clutched me, her fingers digging into my already-raw cut. Her nose was red from weeping, but her eyes were shining in a belligerent way that boded ill. Yet she spoke in the charming voice she had used at the academy when she wanted to disarm and distract our teachers. ¡°Look who I found, dearest!¡±

    Blessed Tanit. The chain of binding had pulled me right to him.

    Vai stood at a prudent remove, his arms crossed on his chest and his mouth set in a crooked line that made him look both annoyed and amused. The sight of him took my breath away.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been telling him all about the lovely wedding journey Prince Caonabo and I took to the amiable Comanche nation,¡± Bee chattered on as I stared.

    ¡°Here you are, Cat. I knew you would come for me.¡±

    His familiar voice pulled me out of my shock. He was wearing the clothes he had had on in the coach on Hallows¡¯ Night. Seeing him so solid and so close hit me as hard as if I had been hammered. His skin crinkled at the corners of his eyes as a smile sharpened his face.

    My lips parted. ¡°Vai¡­¡±

    ¡°I was waiting for you,¡± he added in his silkiest voice.

    Bee ground her heel into my instep. ¡°And I told him all about the decorative little palace my darling Caonabo and I are building so it will be ready in time for the birth of our long-awaited and much-to-be-cherished child.¡±

    Rory hissed, ears flicking back. Bee brandished the cacica¡¯s head and the hammer.

    I dumped my pack on the ground to leave myself room to maneuver as I confronted the man wearing Vai¡¯s face. ¡°You are not my husband. You are my sire. How did you know I was here?¡±

    His laughter had a cruel edge. ¡°I smell and hear and see and taste all. Your voice and your emotions are fingers walking along my skin. I knew you would come after him. Still, you have surprised me, Daughter. You have brought me the dragon dreamer. I did not expect you to hand her over in exchange for the man.¡±

    ¡°You are mistaken if you think I intend to let you have her.¡±

    ¡°That is what Tara Bell said to me when I told her she would bear a girl child who would grow up to serve me. Why do you bother to resist, when you know how that turned out?¡± In a melting flash of shadow he changed to become a saber-toothed cat larger and more powerful than Rory. He roared, the threat reverberating through the air.

    ¡°Stand behind me, Bee.¡± I raised my sword. There was a great deal I did not know about the spirit world, but what I did know, I could use. I spoke the words the footman who was an eru had taught me the first time I had crossed into the spirit world. ¡°Let those who are kin come to my aid. I call to you, Rory¡¯s kinswomen, and I ask respectfully for your protection.¡±

    Head down, ears flat, Rory slouched up to join me in confronting our sire. I admired his courage; he was clearly terrified. I was quaking, too, but my sword arm stayed steady.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to get through us first,¡± I added. ¡°I do not fear to stab you, even if it means harming myself.¡±

    He lashed his tail in warning. I looked past him, for the first time truly taking in our surroundings. We stood on the stone pavement of a monumental plaza. In the distance, to both the right and the left, rose other wards, each with a pillar formed of glass, a glittering crystal tree whose leaves tinkled in a cold wind, and a fountain spilling sleet as an icy breath. In the center of all, far away, stood a white stone palace. Ribbons of silver and gold shimmered along the top of its wall, caught in a wind we could not feel down here. My father had written in his journals of an old folktale that mentioned a palace like this one, with four gates.

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    In the plaza, shadows and bursts of light coalesced, marking the arrival of the Hunt. Crows flapped down to perch on my sire¡¯s back, and what should have looked ridiculous instead heightened the aspect of his power. Lean hounds padded up beside him. A cloud of wasps circled over his head, while a pack of huge gray dire wolves drew muzzles back to show their teeth.

    He roared again, the sound so loud the crows took flight, cawing.

    A second roar answered.

    My sire looked around as if startled.

    A pride of tawny saber-toothed cats flowed into view, halting to mill around Rory and me. Not even the Wild Hunt dared rashly charge in against a pride of saber-toothed cats. They dipped heads, rubbed; one of the smaller females nipped at Rory, and he nipped back. The one I recognized as his mother boxed him across the head with a paw. He growled, and she batted him again. His ears twitched, then flattened.

    Satisfied, she turned with the others to stare hungrily at Bee.

    ¡°Aunt! I pray you, listen to my words. The Master of the Wild Hunt seeks to harm me and mine. Bee is my cousin and will not harm you. Just as your son has been forced to serve his sire, so has she been forced to serve those you call the enemy. Please help me stand against him.¡±

    Tentatively I extended a hand so she could sniff my palm. Her beauty dazzled me, as did the sheer force of her physical presence, with its power and majesty and, of course, those teeth.

    She reared up to balance her weight on my shoulders. Her gold eyes met mine unblinkingly. She could have ripped off my face with one lazy yawn. Her breath was hot, laced with a carrion scent, and yet it did not disturb me. Predators had these cravings.

    She made a sound something like a meow and something like a query.

    ¡°The Master of the Wild Hunt mated with my mother as he did with you. He had no affection for my mother. He only wanted to make a child he could command. Now he¡¯s stolen my beloved. Please, Aunt, I can only request your help as your stepdaughter, bound to you through my love for your son Rory. Please protect my cousin Bee so the Wild Hunt does not eat her. I will take her away from the spirit world as soon as I can.¡±

    She heaved herself down and prowled over to Bee.

    Standing as rigid as a statue, her gaze fixed on me to remind me that if she was eaten it would be my fault, Bee endured being sniffed. I wasn¡¯t sure I would have had that much courage, but she did.

    Last the big cat sniffed delicately at the cacica¡¯s head. The two queens eyed each other as might rulers who are not sure whether they are destined to become rivals or allies.

    Without warning, my sire sprang.

    I spun and thrust.

    My blade caught him along the right shoulder, a mere scrape. Pain flamed across my own shoulder, but I knew it was coming so I hardened myself. I heard Rory¡¯s mewl, and most importantly the cry of every creature who attended him. Because hurting him hurt them, they were momentarily unable to attack.

    I flung myself into him and together we crashed sideways onto the ground. The fur of his shoulder smeared into a new form. I was lying on top of Vai, who had his arms caressingly around me. He was naked, and aroused.

    Pain was nothing compared to my disgust.

    I shoved off him and scrambled back, keeping my gaze averted as I got to my feet.

    ¡°Blessed Tanit!¡± cried Bee.

    ¡°You¡¯re a monster. You¡¯ll never defeat me, not in this way, not in any way!¡±

    Bee sucked in a harsh breath. The saber-toothed cats had arrayed themselves around her. They faced outward, ears flat, mouths open to show teeth. Every cat had her hair fluffed up to make herself look bigger.

    My sire rose to his knees as his body sprouted the wings of an eru. His skin brightened to a sheen like brass. His long black hair stirred as if, like his limbs, it could grasp and strangle his enemies. His wings were feathered with silver. He now wore a kilt woven out of disks. The glittering amulets made me blink from the shine.

    He stared at me with eyes the same amber color as mine. But he had also a third eye, a mass of cloudy veins in the center of his forehead. What sights that bloody eye could see I did not know, and I wasn¡¯t entirely sure I wanted to find out.

    ¡°This is your true form,¡± I said.

    ¡°Change is my true form. But the one who gave birth to me had an eru¡¯s form when I was disgorged. So it is the form to which I return most naturally.¡±

    ¡°No wonder the eru called me Cousin,¡± I muttered.

    When he opened his wings to their full span, they exhaled an icy mist. He was magnificent. ¡°You must be what you are, little cat. That is why I sired you. Do you not wonder why you can kill without regret, escape certain death, and prowl like a tomcat among males who attract you?¡±

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    ¡°I might be able to do those things even were you not my sire.¡± Waves of pain like hot knives still stabbed through my right shoulder. I wondered if I could bring myself to stab him again, even though my first attack had proven successful in forcing the Hunt to retreat.

    His stance remained relaxed and confident. ¡°Do you ever ask yourself how it is you can command the loyalty of others? Why they do your bidding at your word? It must be so, because my blood is your blood. Those I command are yours also to command.¡±

    ¡°There are better reasons for people to be loyal. People give back to you what you give to them. You may say it is blood or birth that binds servants to masters and plebeians to their patrician lords, but that is only another word for force. The Council in Expedition ruled because they had wealth enough to keep themselves in power. But I watched the people of Expedition speak out in protest. I watched them fight. They took the opportunity to govern themselves. They did not wait for it to be given them. They did not say that their demands for new laws and for justice must cede to the prerogatives of blood and birth.¡±

    ¡°Yet blood binds all.¡±

    ¡°Does it?¡± I demanded. ¡°Do you command every creature in the spirit world?¡±

    He said nothing, but he blinked.

    I was breathing as hard as if I had been running, or maybe it was just my aching shoulder that made me dizzy. ¡°I think you only command the Wild Hunt, not one creature more.¡±

    A smile cut his face. Before I thought to retreat, he folded his wings forward to cage me in their web of ice. His clawed hands pulled me close, not in an amorous way but as if he had decided to dismember me and rip off my head. His voice had the shiver of a bell when a rod is drawn across it to make it vibrate.

    ¡°Hear my words, little cat. A prince among slaves is still a slave. The courts bind him with blood in the palace where those without blood cannot walk. You are bound because he is bound.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what you say! I will free my husband!¡±

    He let go, opened his wings, and launched himself into the sky. I staggered back. Bee, Rory, and the cats shook free as if chains had been loosened.

    ¡°Cat!¡± Bee grabbed my hand. Rory shoved his head up under my free hand.

    My shoulder really hurt. I took in short breaths to get through the sting of pain.

    Over the palace the eru caught an updraft and spiraled up until he became too small to see.

    The pain ebbed enough for me to think straight. ¡°Bee, how did you know it wasn¡¯t Vai?¡±

    ¡°That was easy. First, he met us here. I was here all alone for about ten throbbing heartbeats before you came through after me. When he asked where you were, he referred to you as ¡°Cat.¡± Andevai never calls you Cat. He calls you Catherine. I don¡¯t understand why your sire didn¡¯t kill me immediately, but I suppose he would want to save me for the next Hallows¡¯ Night sacrifice. Did he say something to you when he imprisoned you in his wings?¡±

    I waggled my hand to show I did not mean to answer where my sire might hear, and she nodded, then glanced past me. Her eyes flared as her mouth turned down. Rory¡¯s mother coughed a warning. Shapes like fanged butterflies fluttered toward us in a zigzag way that made my skin prickle. The Master and his Hunt had departed, but other denizens of the spirit world had come calling, attracted by Bee¡¯s scent.

    ¡°You have to leave, Bee.¡±

    ¡°Your jacket is wet. What is that?¡±

    I rubbed at my shoulder but I could tell it was a shallow scrape. Rory also had a scratch along his right shoulder, oozing the golden liquid that was his blood.

    ¡°Nothing as important as getting you back to the mortal world. Bee, give me all the bottles. And leave the hammer. I¡¯ll take Vai¡¯s tools.¡±

    Her high color suggested she had known this moment would come. ¡°I sorted the packs in Adurnam already. I never thought I¡¯d be able to come into the spirit world with you, Cat. I knew I would just get in your way here.¡±

    ¡°Rory will go back with you.¡±

    He protested with a coughing grunt.

    ¡°Rory, you know perfectly well it¡¯s not safe for Bee to travel Europa alone. Don¡¯t argue. Queen Anacaona will stay with me. Find a troll maze to hide in if Hallows¡¯ Night comes before I return. We¡¯ll meet in Havery, at the law offices of Godwik and Clutch.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°Havery.¡±

    Rory¡¯s mother snarled. A swirl of bright leaves swept up as on a blast of icy wind, congealing into a monstrous beast with a lizard¡¯s length, a silky coat of pale hair, and a snake¡¯s jaws. Two of the cats charged at it, but its claws drove them back. I leaped forward and cut its open mouth with my sword. The beast disintegrated into a thousand shards that clattered to the ground with a noise like chimes.

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    ¡°Go, Bee! Through water.¡±

    ¡°I love you, Cat.¡± Chin lifted, Bee smiled bravely at me.

    My look had to speak for me, because I could not produce words. The big cats prowled the perimeter of the warded ground to give Bee time to get away. Shards littering the ground stirred to take on the monstrous shape of a fluttering harpy with teeth like obsidian knives. Four wolves loped up, tongues lolling and breath steaming. More winged creatures appeared in the distance, arrowing our way.

    I leaped forward to confront the wolves. ¡°Hurry! Rory, go with her!¡±

    She plunged into the little pool and fell away from us as if running down invisible steps. I smeared a drop of blood from my shoulder onto my boot and stuck the foot in the water to create a gate for Rory. The instant Bee¡¯s head vanished beneath the waters, with Rory behind her, the spirit beasts tested the air for a smell that was no longer present. In ones and twos, they trotted away.

    18

    I had to let go of my unshed tears so I could concentrate on the task that lay before me. By scratching each cat on its big head, I calmed myself. I ought to have been scared of them. Any, except possibly the half-grown littlest, could have ripped me to pieces, but they shouldered their bodies around mine in a way I found so charmingly affectionate that it sucked my tears quite dry. They heartened me.

    ¡°My thanks to you. No need to accompany me any farther. Run as far as you can before he comes back.¡±

    Yet the cats waited as I retrieved the head of the cacica from the ground where Bee had perforce left her. ¡°Your Highness, you have been generous in aiding us. I feel obliged to confess that I am taking you to Ha¨¹bey, not to Caonabo.¡±

    She regarded me unblinking with a stare I was glad I had never had to face down while she sat on the duho, the seat of power. ¡°Explain yourself.¡±

    ¡°Your brother the cacique made a bargain with me. He said he would get me to Europa if I would take you to your exiled son Ha¨¹bey. I accepted because reaching Europa was the only chance I had to get my husband back. The cacique promised me that Ha¨¹bey will take you back to Sharagua, and thus to Caonabo.¡±

    ¡°I wondered when you would tell me. I can see we do not travel in Taino country. My brother is a persuasive man, and you are young, so I cannot fault you for giving way to his conniving. What is done cannot be changed. In truth, I have seen sights I would not otherwise have witnessed, so my gourd of knowledge becomes weightier. Was that winged creature who attacked us the one who commanded my death?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Highness.¡±

    ¡°Well, then, you did well to defy him as much as you are able.¡±

    I had rarely received a compliment that pleased me more. ¡°My thanks, Your Highness. Since we¡¯re here, will you drink?¡±

    ¡°Your manners are improving. Yet is it safe to drink here?¡±

    ¡°Here on warded ground, from this water, it is.¡±

    ¡°Then I will do so, for I wish to taste the waters of these springs.¡±

    I cradled her in my hands so she could lap, rather like a dog, but it went well enough. I drank to satiety, filled the bottles, and stowed them in my pack. My sire¡¯s whispered words nagged at me, but I dared not discuss them aloud with the cacica lest unseen ears overhear. Had he been taunting me, or warning me?

    ¡°We must go to the palace,¡± I said.

    ¡°In Sharagua, such a central compound would be the cacique¡¯s domain. That suggests the palace is the home of the spirit courts of Europa. We can discover what lies within by entering.¡±

    Buoyed by this truism, I advanced, with the cacica¡¯s hair clutched in my right hand and my sword in my left. We walked at least a mile, if one could measure distance here as in the mortal world, and I was pretty sure one could not. I was pretty sure distances might expand and contract. How else could the cats have reached me so quickly when I called to them? They paced alongside, escorting us. The littlest several times bumped into me on purpose, until I finally swatted her with the flat of my sword.

    ¡°Little beast! No wonder Rory finds you annoying!¡±

    She sulked away so like Bee¡¯s spoiled little sister Astraea that I laughed. The adult females coughed in what I imagined was shared amusement.

    Strange to think that laughter brought us to the walls.

    White walls like seamless ceramic rose to the height of ten men, so high I could not hope to climb. A massive sea-green door promised an entry, but it was closed tight. Fortunately, warded ground formed the tongue of the gate, with a smooth pillar, a spring of water rising in a stone basin, and a sapling ash tree. Standing safe between the wards, I examined the huge doors.

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    The lintel was carved of jade in the form of two eru with hands braced against each other¡¯s, their lips about to meet in a kiss that would never be consummated. Did the entrance always look like this, or was it formed this way to taunt me? The doors had neither ring nor latch. When I pushed with a foot, neither budged. The cut on my forearm was still oozing, but a smear of my blood wiped onto the jade did nothing.

    Frustrated, I murmured my sire¡¯s words. ¡° ¡®The palace where those without blood cannot walk.¡¯ ¡±

    ¡°The dead have no blood to offer,¡± said the cacica. ¡°Perhaps the dead cannot cross.¡±

    ¡°I could go forward alone. But it seems wrong to leave you behind. I should have sent you with Bee.¡±

    ¡°Hers is not the responsibility. You can hang the basket from the tree and return to get me.¡±

    ¡°What if someone steals you, Your Highness? What if I can¡¯t return this way? Or get out at all?¡±

    ¡°If you are unable to get out, I will be lost regardless.¡± Her clear gaze measured me. ¡°I do not fear you will abandon me. You have proven yourself loyal.¡±

    ¡°My thanks, Your Highness.¡± Her praise startled me into an unexpected spike of optimism.

    I returned her to the basket, hung the basket from a branch, and from the spring drank my fill of water so cold it numbed my lips.

    This time, when I smeared blood onto the jade, the stone parted as easily as curtains. As I pushed through, my first step took me into light so bright it blinded me. My second step brought me to the brink of an impossibly vast chasm. The silence made me wonder if I had gone deaf.

    An entire world fell away from my feet like a bowl with tiers. Each of these tiers marked a landscape as wide as continents, and each landscape was surrounded by the Great Smoke. I looked down as might a star, hanging so high that the whole of existence lay exposed as I watched the surge and flow of the spirit world. Tides of smoke swept up from the waterless ocean to engulf swaths of land, then rolled back into the sea. Everything the tide touched was changed, except for the steady gleams that marked warded ground, the straight lines of warded roads, and a few patches that might have been briny salt flats.

    According to the story of creation told by the Kena¡¯ani, Noble Ba¡¯al had wrested land out of ocean in his contest with the god of the sea. The sages of my people said that the world was created out of conflict. Was this not similar to what the troll lawyer Keer had told me? ¡°At the heart of all lie the vast energies which are the animating spirit of the worlds. The worlds incline toward disorder. Cold battles with heat. When ice grows, order increases. Where fire triumphs, energies disperse.¡±

    In the spirit world, land and ocean warred, one rising as the other fell. Where the ocean receded, the span of the land grew. When the ocean swelled, the measure of the land shrank.

    How could I see it all, and all at once? For here, on the brink, I was not standing in the spirit world and yet neither was I standing in the mortal world.

    The threads of life and spirit stitch together the interleaved worlds. Mages drew their power through these threads, and I used the shadows of the threads to weave concealment and enhance my sight and hearing in the mortal world.

    Now it seemed to me that I was standing both inside and outside. I was caught within a single translucent thread that pulsed with the force of life and spirit that some call magic and others call energy. Its span was no greater than the span of my outstretched arms and yet it was also boundless. The contrast so dizzied me that I swayed. The lip of the abyss crumbled away beneath my feet. Flailing, I tipped and fell forward through another flash of blinding light.

    My knees smacked onto solid ground. After I sucked down the pain and blinked the afterimages of spots from my vision, I looked around.

    I had come to rest on a ledge cut into a cliff side that overlooked a deep bowl of land like a crater. Inside the crater the ground was cut up by narrow ridges and steep prominences in the manner of a maze. A city of bridges and wide balconies wove through this labyrinth of air and wind. Every surface had a crystalline glimmer. The spacious balconies and winding bridges were ornamented with ribbons colored blood-red and melting-butter-yellow and the stark blue those who lived in the north called ¡°the mark of the ice.¡± Rainbows rippled as on invisible currents of water.

    I was not alone.

    Brightly robed people strolled along arm in arm on these hanging paths, gossiping and laughing with gentle smiles. Others rushed past as on urgent errands. Some wore headdresses of peculiar construction, spiky like quills or curved like crescent moons. The colors they wore made a rainbow of movement. They gathered and split off into new groups at each place where bridges merged and intersections branched. Blues poured in one direction and violets and greens in another, only to meet up at a farther remove, spilling and merging until it seemed their robes changed color as easily as I blinked.

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    A tiered ziggurat towered above the rest of the city, its highest tiers like an eagle¡¯s aerie wreathed with gold and silver wisps. Somehow, from this angle, I could see the entire edifice, even though that should have been impossible. Up the center of each face of the ziggurat ran a staircase. On three of these stairs, figures descended and ascended in constant motion. The fourth stair was riven by a cleft, a gleaming canyon that sliced into a dark interior. The top of the ziggurat lay flat and open like the holy sanctuary in a Kena¡¯ani temple.

    The scene on the top of the ziggurat reminded me of a princely hall as described in tales of the olden days told by Celtic bards. A half circle of lordly chairs stood on a dais. Four shone as if beaten out of gold, and four had a texture as black as the depths of a moonless night. No one I could see was sitting in them, yet I felt the whisper of presences ready to materialize. Musicians strolled through, strumming lutes and harps. Drummers played a soft rhythm like the pulse of the hidden earth. A crowd of lordly personages waited at long tables set with platters so bright their glitter made me blink. No one seemed to be eating. I wasn¡¯t sure there was food or drink.

    The lower levels of the ziggurat lay deserted, empty of life. Four bridges, one on each side, connected the four staircases on the tiered mountain to the rest of the city. A moat ringed the city below the outer cliff wall, filled with a viscous liquid. When I peered down from the ledge, its steamy current gleamed ominously, as if warning me I could not escape, because I was trapped by molten fire. The only way off my ledge was along a narrow bridge that vaulted into the maze.

    Where almost everything is in constant movement, that which stands still stands out.

    A man waited unmoving on one of the bridges. A swarm of personages in bright robes flowed past, breaking around him as water breaks around a rock.

    I memorized a path from my ledge to him through the weave of bridges and balconies. No one tried to stop me as I hurried through the city. Either they did not know I was there, or I was too insignificant to matter. Despite the convoluted path I had to follow, I had no trouble reaching him. He stood facing a gulf of air. A wind rising up from the boiling moat whipped through his dash jacket.

    ¡°Catherine!¡± he called, smiling.

    I ran to him, my heart pounding and my lips dry. But as I reached him I slowed. A sword¡¯s length from him, I extended my blade instead of my arm.

    ¡°Show me your navel,¡± I said.

    ¡°Show me yours first, Catherine. How can I know it is truly you?¡±

    ¡°You said you would always know if it was me. What is the first thing you ever said to me?¡±

    He laughed. ¡°That I loved you from the first moment I saw you.¡±

    I took a step back, disappointment a pinch in my heart. ¡°That¡¯s not the first thing you said.¡±

    His laughter deepened into a roar as he changed into a saber-toothed cat.

    ¡°Am I a mouse, that you play with me before gulping me down?¡± I demanded. ¡°If you mean to kill me, then I wish you would just get it over with.¡±

    He turned sideways as if to swipe at me but hesitated when he caught sight of something behind me. Like a beaten animal he hissed, head hunched, ears down. I pressed back against the railing as I turned with my blade ready to block.

    The personage who approached paid me no notice. I might as well have been invisible.

    Such a proud and imposing woman could walk at her ease through any princely court or mage House estate. Her robes shimmered with peacock hues. A headdress and cloak of rustling ornamental feathers made me stare. Her graceful hands had long fingernails painted red, as if she had dipped them in blood.

    ¡°There you are, precious.¡± She fastened a gem-studded collar around the neck of the angry cat without the least sign that his size, teeth, and annoyance disturbed her. ¡°It is time for the Hunt.¡±

    Unexpectedly she turned, fingers closing like iron around my wrist. Her eyes had neither iris nor pupil; they looked like shards of ice stabbed into her face. Without so much as asking my leave or apologizing for the discourtesy, she pressed the raw cut to her lips.

    Winter leaches warmth from the air. Ice forms into chains that bind quivering souls.

    My heart, my thoughts, my very spirit drained into the chasm of winter, crushed under the weight of a glacial shelf. I was the food and the drink; I was the thread of power being tasted and sipped; I was the one bound and chained¡­

    The hand released me. I collapsed to my knees, hacking as if I were coughing out the dregs of my soul. Despair curdled in my gut. I would never find him. He was already dead. Bee and Rory were lost in the mortal world where I could never reunite with them. My tasks undone, my promises unkept¡­ all lost¡­

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    ¡°This is weak fare, not the prisoner whose powerful blood you promised us,¡± she said in a cold voice to my sire. ¡°He continues to defy us and has placed himself out of our reach and it seems yours as well. If only he would surrender, as you claimed he would, he would nourish us with that astonishing strength. But since he refuses to feed us, and the time is come for the renewal of the binding, then you, my pet, must hunt in the mortal world for our feast.¡±

    With fingers wrapped around the leash, she climbed toward the ziggurat. My sire followed, tail lashing, exactly as might a beast bound into obedient but unwilling servitude.

    For the longest time the ice in my veins held me frozen. As they ascended the magnificent stairs, the woman and the cat were joined by elegant personages splendidly garbed in gowns and capes sewn of pearls and silk and shells. Up they climbed to the very crown of the ziggurat. There a cloud of darkness swirled.

    Hounds yipped anxiously. Wolves howled and hyenas cackled. Wasps massed in a cloud. My sire changed from cat into a man riding a black horse. He raised a hand, commanding the air.

    A churning eye like the center of a hurricane boiled into existence in midair. It reminded me of the goal in batey, a window in the heavens between the spirit world and the mortal world. A smear like a bolt of night surged up from the ziggurat, piercing the air as a deadly lance.

    Thunder cracked. A gate between the worlds swirled open.

    The Wild Hunt had been released.

    In a howling, chirping, chortling pack, the Hunt passed through the gate of the hurricane¡¯s eye. My sire galloped in their midst with a spear in one hand and fear in the other.

    On a second thunderclap, the eye closed and the Hunt vanished.

    The dark clouds cleared away. The city fell silent, as if holding its breath. But it was not still. The boiling movement that spun along the bridges and balconies flowed merrily along. Its constantly shifting pattern contracted and expanded like a flock of birds in flight, spinning around and around the center like a whirlpool around an unseen eddy.

    My finger twitched. My arms were my own again. I rubbed my eyes to break free from the trance.

    Blessed Tanit! If the Wild Hunt rode into the mortal world, then Hallows¡¯ Night had come again. Months had passed in what had felt to me like a single day. Bee and I had walked in Adurnam in late March. Now it was the end of October in the mortal world. The Hunt would pursue a person whose blood hummed with the power and energy we humans called magic. It would corner, kill, and dismember the hapless victim, and toss the severed head down a well. Yet looking at the silent personages awaiting their feast atop the ziggurat, I had to wonder: Was my sire the master, or a slave to others¡¯ bidding?

    This mystery lay beyond my grasp right now. I had to concentrate on what I had come here for. If the crowning feast was the center of the city, then surely my sire would hold his prisoner close to the celebration yet hidden from it. The spirit world did not have shadows but it did have brighter places and places more gray and indistinct. It had places that drew the eye, and places the eye slid away from as water slides off a duck¡¯s back.

    I found it on the fourth staircase, the broken one. Along the outer rim of the towering crack that split the staircase ran a narrow balcony like an outgrowth on a glassy stone cliff. A figure sat there, unmoving. It was too small for me to see features or even to discern the colors of the clothes it was wearing, although it looked a lot like a dash jacket and he looked like a man. The only way to reach the spot was to be lowered by rope, to climb by ladder, or to fly.

    Could I fly? Wasn¡¯t I an eru¡¯s daughter?

    I turned my thoughts inward, searching through my body for a memory of wings, but I remained stubbornly Cat, locked into the mortal flesh my mother had given birth to.

    So I did the only thing I could: I plotted out a route and hastened toward the broken stair. Once I reached its jagged steps, I raced up them to the point where the huge gash like a notch made by a giant¡¯s knife had cut through the stone into the interior of the ziggurat. A bridge no wider than my hand spanned the gap between the sides of the gash; the balcony lay on the other side of the crevice. I balanced across the gulf of air until I reached a flight of floating steps, some of them missing because they, too, were broken.

    After clambering up, I paused to catch my breath on a tiny platform not even wide enough to sit on. Above me rose the sheer face of a cliff, as ominous as a wall of ice. A pretty balcony ornamented by ribbons lay above me, and above it rose more cliff. Below me, the cleft fell away into darkness.

    Even from halfway within the ziggurat, my doubled vision could still see the top of the pyramid¡¯s flat crown, as if part of me still stood inside one of the threads of power and spirit that weave the worlds. Overhead a churning circle of brilliance swirled in the sky. The eye of the gate opened. Howling and roaring, the Wild Hunt spilled back into the spirit world in a boiling mass of turbulent beasts. The layers and levels of the city emptied as all moving things converged on the height. Human-like presences solidified in the eight chairs: four black as obsidian and four white as snow. They had no faces as I recognized a face. Instead they surged with a force I could only describe and feel as hunger.

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    The horseman reined his mount to a halt in front of the dais. My sire was glowing, ruddy with a surfeit of blood. Slowly he bowed his head. Every line of his body was tense and tight.

    Certainty infused me like a bolt of hot anger through my flesh: He hated the creatures who sat in those thrones. He wanted to slash his spear through every watching, waiting presence but could not because eight chains bound him, one to each chair.

    Those chains like whips snapped, bringing the horse to its knees.

    A voice like a hammer blow cut through him, turning the mounted horseman into a kneeling eru with wings furled as in pain. He knelt before them. Blood is power because blood binds.

    A prince among slaves is still a slave.

    He hadn¡¯t been talking about Andevai. He had been talking about himself.

    ¡°Give us what is ours.¡± The eight personages spoke in one voice. ¡°As you are required to do, because you are bound with the blood of the last feast, and because we bind you with the blood of this feast through the coming year.¡±

    The Hunt was merely the conduit. The courts could not walk into the mortal world, so only their servants could bring them the mortal blood they craved.

    The blood of the sacrifice poured out of a hundred wounds. Through the chains of binding they sucked the fresh blood of the kill out of his flesh and into theirs.

    I licked the air. I tasted the blood of the kill, so rich and sweet, laced with the spice of power, the salt of life. My hunger swelled together with the hunger of all the many presences, the denizens of the spirit courts. The force of their ravenous appetites built like the front of a storm. I took a step, thinking to race back across the bridge that spanned the cleft and regain the staircase, for surely I could rush up to the height and claw in to take my share before they had drained it all.

    An unseen person coughed as though waking from a dusty and uneasy doze. The cough startled me back to my own self as I remembered who I was and why I was here.

    ¡°Vai? Can you hear me? Is that you?¡±

    ¡°Catherine?¡± His voice was hoarse.

    The ribbon-ornamented balcony above me could only be reached by a skeleton of what had once been a stair-rail as delicate as crystalline branches. Rungs and railings had been shattered by savage blows to make the stairs unusable. I didn¡¯t need stairs. I checked my sword to make sure it was secure, found a fingerhold on a jaggedly broken rung, and scrambled up. The weight of the pack threw off my balance, but I was determined. A presence loomed over me.

    He said, ¡°Give me your arm. Reach up.¡±

    I did so blindly, slipping as I let go. A callused grip caught my wrist. He hauled me over the side and to my feet. His hands on my waist were like fire, I felt them so. His beard was a little unkempt. Streaks of powdery dust smeared his right cheek.

    ¡°Catherine.¡± His voice was balm on my yearning heart.

    I dislodged his grasp and retreated to the edge of the balcony. The white rock wall behind him was pitted with gouges and holes. A frail ladderlike stair, leading up the cliff face to the next level, had also been smashed. From the far side of the balcony, the cleft cut away deep into the heart of the massive structure, shearing away into the inky depths.

    It was strange he was so disheveled and dust-stained when we stood on a spotless white balcony with ribbons streaming off the railing. His trousers were ripped at one knee. A cuff on his dash jacket had torn, and ragged slashes raked through the fabric of its left shoulder, although no blood stained the cloth. The smell of mortal blood lay heavily on him, yet he might be my sire, flown down to confound me with blood still coating his tongue.

    ¡°Show me your navel!¡±

    He turned his back on me. ¡°I¡¯ll let you find it yourself, if you can tell me how many buttons this jacket has.¡±

    ¡°Are you telling me all your jackets are cut to the same pattern? For if they are, then that one has fourteen.¡±

    He turned back with a suspicious frown that made him look a little like the mansa. ¡°After all, I am reminded you might have counted them. You¡¯ve assaulted me before in the guise of my wife.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying my sire has tried to seduce you more than that one time in the carriage?¡±

    ¡°How could you know about that?¡±

    ¡°Such secrets are best left unspoken within hearing of they who can see and hear all.¡±

    He took a step back, halting beside an object I had mistaken for a boulder but that I now realized was the bundle of stolen clothes, food, and leather bottles from Salt Island. Such a bolt of joy flooded through me that I had to struggle to catch my heart before it crashed right out of my chest. Only Vai would have thought to drag the bundle with him out of the coach. His sword lay sheathed on the ground. I was almost certain my sire could not touch cold steel.

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    He thought I was my sire.

    I shrugged off the pack to ease my shoulders. ¡°You claimed you would always know where I was. So I would think you would know this is me, Vai. Who else can carry my sword?¡±

    ¡°There are many things I am no longer quite so sure of.¡± His wary gaze made me cautious, and made me bitter, for I could see my sire¡¯s abduction had injured him in an intangible way.

    ¡°What was the first thing you said to me, when we first met?¡±

    His lips curled into the scornful sneer I had seen too often in the first days of our acquaintance. ¡°Easy enough to tell. When I saw you that night coming down the stairs, I thought it was the other half of my soul coming to greet me. But I¡¯ve spoken those words aloud more than once. You might have overheard them.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow, trying to mimic his disdain. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s lovely and romantical, Vai, but that isn¡¯t the first thing you actually said to me.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Something about the theater, then.¡± He ran a finger down the line of his beard. ¡°That you¡¯re not cut out to be an actress.¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯m no actress, then surely you should know I must be me. Yet you stand there with no welcoming embrace! Since you cannot recall your exact words, let me remind you. You said that I might have the looks to be in theater, but not the skill.¡±

    ¡°Did I? A truthful statement, you must admit.¡±

    I had meant to tease him into recognizing me, but his comment chased all thoughts of teasing from my mind as curiosity burned instead. ¡°Why did you praise my looks? With Bee around, it¡¯s a compliment no young man ever threw my way. Bee always dazzled them all.¡±

    His rigid posture relaxed. He closed the distance between us and cupped my face in his hands. His fingers had the roughness of a laborer¡¯s, but his touch was gentle. He examined my windblown hair and dirt-smudged skin.

    ¡°All the better for me that they were blind.¡±

    I tried not to look gratified¡ªcertainly this was not the place for it¡ªbut a blush warmed my cheeks regardless.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always wondered what you thought when you first saw me.¡± His hands slipped down to grasp my hands as he preened just a little with the lift of his chin and the squaring of his shoulders.

    I felt obliged to prod him. ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t as handsome as you so obviously thought you were.¡±

    A laugh crinkled at the corners of his eyes without quite making it to his mouth. ¡°How quickly did you realize you were mistaken?¡±

    ¡°Oh, Vai,¡± I breathed. ¡°I was so afraid I wouldn¡¯t find you.¡±

    I threw my arms around him just as he crushed my body against his. At first I simply held on, letting my heart beat into the rhythm of his. It felt so good to embrace him. When I tilted back my head to look at him, he pressed kisses on my eyes. I pressed my mouth to his throat. Hot blood pulsed beneath my lips, so close I could have ripped through to it with a single bite and joined in the feast now consuming the thoughts and attention of the spirit courts. I shook myself away, pulling out of his arms.

    ¡°We have to go,¡± I said. ¡°The courts will finish feasting and remember you. And what if the tide of a dream washes through and catches us?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re safe from tides here. The walls ward the pit.¡±

    ¡°What pit?¡±

    The mocking curve of his lips made me shudder. ¡°Your sire threw me into this pit. The creatures swarmed after me, too many for me to fight off. I climbed up here just ahead of them and smashed both stairs with my cold steel. Since they can¡¯t climb, they can¡¯t reach me. I would be dead if I had not grabbed that bundle of provisions out of the coach.¡±

    ¡°I stole all that when I was imprisoned on Salt Island.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what kept me alive. But I¡¯ve consumed all the food and drink.¡± He knelt to rummage through my pack. Opening one of the flasks, he took a thirsty swig, then a more measured swallow. After, he offered it to me.

    I shook my head. ¡°I drank my fill at the gate.¡±

    ¡°No food?¡±

    ¡°None. The mansa found us before we had made all our preparations.¡±

    ¡°When did you encounter the mansa? I suppose that is a tale to be told later.¡± He emptied the pack, nodding with approval when he found my sewing kit and some of his carpentry tools. But it was his shaving kit and the little box that held sheaths that made him stare. ¡°Lord of All, Catherine, I must say you are well prepared for adventure of one sort or another.¡±

    It is an odd thing to know you stand close to death and yet laugh.

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    What part of my thoughts he read from my expression I did not know, but his gaze softened. ¡°You never give up, do you, my sweet Catherine?¡±

    ¡°Never. While the courts are busy with their feast, we can go back the way I came, across the bridges and balconies to the ledge, and then back through the jade gate.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t escape by their own paths. Some will scent me and come after me. They are faster than I am. The only reason I¡¯m alive is that they can¡¯t climb, and I got up here before they caught me.¡±

    ¡°They weren¡¯t saving you for Hallows¡¯ Night? Maybe after the feast they won¡¯t be hungry for a while.¡±

    He wiped a hand across his brow, smearing a fine white dust across his skin. ¡°I am scarcely likely to take that chance. It¡¯s safer for me to assume they will kill me the moment they get hold of me. But what do you mean by bridges and balconies?¡± Bands of exhaustion shadowed his eyes, yet he studied me with a look of concern, as if my situation worried him far more than his own dire straits. ¡°Are your eyes veiled by their illusions?¡±

    I rested a hand against his cheek. His skin seemed dry and warm. I hoped he wasn¡¯t getting feverish. ¡°Don¡¯t you see the city? It¡¯s beautiful, just as I thought it would be. All the ribbons and rainbows and bridges and fine white spires and the huge ziggurat with the feasting personages in their elegant robes¡­ however horrible their meal¡­¡±

    He gathered me against him. ¡°You¡¯re seeing an illusion, love. Close your eyes.¡±

    I shut my eyes. At first I could not think past the sensation of his arms around me and the whisper of his lips against my hair. There was an odd pressure, like a dense jacket of air tucked tightly against his body, that reminded me of the way air felt just before a storm swept in. I swallowed, and my ears popped. My sword tingled.

    I was feeling Vai¡¯s cold magic.

    ¡°I thought you had no magic in the spirit world,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°I thought so, too. But in the spirit world it just lies so tightly against my body that I can¡¯t reach with it and thus can¡¯t weave magic here. Now keep your eyes shut, love. Here in the pit, your eyes lie to you. See with your heart and your body. They¡¯ll never lie to you.¡± His voice was a coaxing murmur. He could have talked me into anything.

    He had, hadn¡¯t he? In Expedition he had known I was attracted to his handsome face and inviting body, so he had used words and food to persuade me that what I felt for him was love.

    ¡°Catherine, you¡¯re not paying attention. We¡¯re not standing in a city. It¡¯s a pit.¡±

    ¡°Hush.¡± I pushed my awareness of him down as I listened to the story the wind was telling me. A salty dust tickled my nose. Wind scoured empty slopes, spraying grains of dirt. A weight like hot, drying brine masked my face.

    ¡°The cleft is a gate,¡± I whispered. ¡°All the movement in the city eddies around a hidden gate, like water swirling around a submerged and open mouth that¡¯s sucking water into it. It¡¯s as if we have one foot in the spirit world and one in the mortal world. Dust and salt and sand are blowing in from the mortal world. Gather everything up. I think we can just walk out of here through this hidden gate.¡±

    ¡°I see no gate.¡± He released me. ¡°Of course, I didn¡¯t dare shed my blood to look for one. Anyway, the hunters of my village only know how to cross through standing stones, and then only on cross-quarter days. I have no means of marking time here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a spiritwalker, Vai. I can cut gates between the two worlds and bring you with me whether you¡¯ve shed blood or not as long as you slip through before the gate closes behind me. I can feel there¡¯s a gate already half open, right off this balcony.¡±

    Together, we sorted through the gear to divide it between the two of us. He tied the carpentry apron securely around his body, then scooped up a handful of glittering dust.

    I shouldered the pack. ¡°Hold my right hand. Keep your sword drawn.¡±

    I sliced a shallow cut on my forearm. Where the wall of the cleft cut deeper into the base of the ziggurat, I smeared my blood. Grit stung my eyes as I pushed through, pulling Vai with me right through the rock.

    Hot sunlight poured its heat over my face. We stood at the base of a crumbling mine shaft. Sun blazed through the opening above. It was brutally hot. Sweat drenched me just from the effort of standing and breathing. Around lay discarded pickaxes, awls, and baskets, as well as a pair of sleds on runners, heaped with raw salt. Horizontal shafts shot off in different directions, fading into gloom.

    ¡°Lord of All,¡± murmured Vai at my back. ¡°We¡¯re at the bottom of a salt mine.¡±

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    By the flavor of the air and the presence of the sun, I knew we had crossed back into the mortal world.

    19

    ¡°Which way did we come from?¡± I whispered, trying to get my bearings.

    He indicated a trail of scattered salt receding into the darkness of one of the horizontal shafts, then opened a hand to reveal the last bits of the dust he had gathered. ¡°I left a trail to follow. This seems too easy.¡±

    ¡°Except for being stuck at the bottom of a mine shaft with no rope or ladder.¡±

    He looked up. ¡°I may be able to cut hand- and footholds up the shaft. It¡¯s cursed hot. I wonder if this is old Mali. Imagine if we have come to the birthplace of my ancestors¡­¡±

    ¡°To the very place where the salt plague began,¡± I whispered, shuddering.

    A shuffling slip-slop echoed out of the darkness.

    Slow as molasses, a creature emerged from the gloom of one of the other tunnels. Its steps had the creak of an elder¡¯s, but its body was not frail, only stiff. It had the form of a perfectly proportioned person, not ugly or beautiful, neither male nor female, but all white. Not pale-haired and pale-skinned as northern Celts are, but the stark white of a being whose flesh has solidified into salt, like a salter in the final, morbid phase of the disease. Its eyes were salt-white and blind.

    I knew what it was although I had never read a description of such a thing in the tales penned by travelers. Who could see such a sight and live to speak of it? No one could.

    It was a ghoul.

    A tongue licked the air as it tasted the scent of mortal blood.

    The lick of its tongue scraped me despite the gap between us. The blood congealing on the cut on my arm began to flow as if it were being suckled out of my body. A drop of my blood struck the ground, its impact shivering a vibration through the soles of my feet. A bell-like clangor echoed through the tunnels, followed by a dead silence as the ghoul halted.

    Chiming cries echoed from the tunnels. Unseen tongues licked the air, tasting for blood. Pebbles and dirt spat down on our heads. Far above us ghouls clustered at the mine¡¯s mouth, eager to taste blood. One walked right off the cliff. It plunged through the spinning dust motes. Vai yanked me back as it hit with a sickening crunch. The ghoul heaved itself up, unbroken, unmarred.

    ¡°We have to go back,¡± said Vai.

    I hadn¡¯t known they could move so fast. They were on us, me beating at clawing hands and biting mouths. Cold steel stopped them in their tracks but it did not turn them to salt, not as the cut of my blade had dissolved the salters who had blundered into the sea on the beach at Salt Island.

    ¡°Vai! Move!¡±

    Bell voices rang down the mines. Too late I heard a scrape behind us.

    A ghoul staggered out of the darkness and lunged at Vai. Just as its mouth was about to close on his arm, he thrust his blade between its jaws. The blade caught its teeth a finger¡¯s breadth from his sleeve.

    I rammed into the ghoul with a shoulder. Fiery Shemesh! It was like shifting rock. It moved just enough for him to jerk back out of reach. It did not claw at me because now the advancing ghouls were all fixed on him, not on me.

    ¡°Catherine! I can¡¯t see the gate.¡±

    More thumped down from above. The breath of the ghouls was like the burrowing tongue of a craving that can never be eased. They would never stop coming. They swarmed toward him, but I had the scent of the spirit world in my lungs, all the gate I needed.

    ¡°Vai! Take my hand!¡± I thrust wildly to give them pause, then dragged Vai backward.

    The memory of sun vanished as we crossed the gate. We staggered to a halt, panting, on the balcony where he had taken refuge. The city spread around us in its false beauty. Winds rippled color through ribbons. Bridges vaulted in graceful, intertwined arches, slender spans spun out of gold and silver. I swayed, a hand pressed to my sweaty forehead. A scraping shuffle sounded from the broken staircase as an unseen creature clawed uselessly at the rock.

    ¡°No! No! No!¡± I cried, ready to burst with sheer raging fury. ¡°I¡¯ll kill them! I¡¯ll kill them!¡±

    ¡°Love, love. It¡¯s all right.¡± He embraced me. I wasn¡¯t sure if he was comforting me, or comforting himself by comforting me. ¡°They can¡¯t climb without stairs or ramps. They lack both the agility and the strength. We¡¯re safe on this ledge.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not safe! We have enough water for a day, at most. And no food! No way out¡ª¡±

    ¡°Catherine! Enough!¡±

    I broke off, my breath ragged.

    His dark gaze met mine. ¡°I saw a salter one time in Expedition, when I went out to the country with Kofi. It was before you came to Aunty¡¯s boardinghouse. I saw her beg her brother to kill her. Then I saw her no longer able to speak, dead of mind but still alive in her body, a ravening beast. Worse, for beasts have purpose and their own sort of intelligence. Her family used spears to push her mindless flesh into a pit, but spears did not kill her. They poured salt water over her, and that did kill her, only she shrieked in such agony I have never forgotten the sound.¡±

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    I would not look away even though I did not want to hear what he was going to say next.

    His voice emerged in a harsh whisper. ¡°Promise me, Catherine. Promise me you will kill me cleanly rather than make me suffer that death.¡±

    He did not flinch from my answering gaze, nor did his unwavering trust allow me to flinch.

    ¡°I promise you,¡± I said, each word a knife in my heart.

    He gave a nod so final that my heart squeezed tight with love and terror.

    ¡°Now, Catherine, as I was about to say before that unfortunate but understandable venture into the salt mine, I have a plan.¡±

    ¡°A plan? What plan?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think I¡¯ve been sitting here with dry maw waiting to die, do you?¡± He laid out the carpentry apron on the ground. His tools were stowed in pockets, and he removed each one, running his hands over it as if reintroducing himself to its qualities. By the stiffness in his movements and the occasional wince, he was hurting, but I doubted he would ever mention it and I would certainly never dare say a word to him about the shadows under his eyes or the way my sire had effortlessly taken him captive. ¡°I¡¯ve considered many possible paths, most of which involved your help and some of which involved you being clever enough to bring my carpentry tools.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t all involve me being clever enough to bring your carpentry tools?¡±

    He smiled without looking at me. ¡°Ghouls can¡¯t climb, but you and I can.¡±

    ¡°There are ghouls on this side, too? I¡¯ve not seen any.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re all ghouls, in their way. What you see as personages in elegant robes, I see as gaunt creatures clawing for my blood. They¡¯re not solid on this side, not like the ones we just saw in the mine. Over here they can change their aspect, just as all spirit creatures can do.¡±

    The way he set each tool down on the ground precisely in line next to the others told me more than words. He was calming himself through orderly action, methodical, precise, just as the cacica had observed. I could not help but watch his hands, the ones that knew exactly how to do the meticulous work he wanted them to do.

    He glanced up as if I had made a noise, then raised an eyebrow in that way that made him look supercilious but that was also, I realized, just a way of showing he was puzzled or concerned. ¡°Catherine?¡±

    My lips parted but no words came out. No words I expected or meant to say.

    ¡°I love you so much, Vai.¡±

    Had another voice and intelligence spoken through my mouth I would not have been more surprised. His eyes widened, as if I¡¯d blurted out an embarrassing secret he knew he ought not to have heard. Yet the weary slump of his shoulders straightened with new determination as he turned the awl through his fingers and set it down beside the claw hammer. He unrolled the last fold in the heavy leather kit to reveal a set of chisels and a two-bitted hatchet.

    ¡°Catherine, can you trust me enough to step blindly off a cliff no matter how it looks to you?¡±

    ¡°Always, Vai. But what is your plan?¡±

    He began to put the tools back. ¡°I¡¯ve had a lot of time to examine this pit. It is a maze, all connected to this central tower of rock. The maze walls are like low cliffs. If we stay on the walls, they can¡¯t get to us.¡±

    ¡°They can walk on the bridges and balconies.¡±

    ¡°Those are paths within and above the pit. We should be able to climb sideways along the walls all the way to the edge without having to drop to the ground. I¡¯ve been able to map out a route where it seems there will be plenty of foot- and handholds and a series of ledges where we can rest along the way.¡±

    ¡°Are you going to chip out handholds with a chisel and hammer?¡±

    ¡°I likely can¡¯t get enough swing on a hammer but we do have them if we need them. We can easily smash stairs, if we need to. We¡¯ll stay above and below the ghouls, climb out of the pit, find warded ground, and cross back to the mortal world. We have no money, but we can work our way wherever we need to go with my carpentry and your sewing. So you see, now that we are together, we have everything we need. Are you ready?¡±

    I nodded. He ripped a scrap of cloth from one of the old pagnes and tied it around his neck like a buccaneer¡¯s kerchief. Tying the apron back on, he rigged his sword and the hatchet so he could grab them easily. I bound up my skirts, binding my sword and the now-lightened pack across my back. We drained one flask of spring water and, thus fortified, set out.

    Handing me a chisel, he said, ¡°Don¡¯t look at anything except me.¡±

    For once, I had no teasing retort.

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    We worked our way off the balcony with its decorative ribbons. For the very first part I saw the same thing he did: the uneven face of the cleft. Its manifold protuberances and hand-width shelves were easy to negotiate. But then I had to follow him as onto open air. It was like walking out over a chasm. His shoulders bunching and releasing beneath his jacket became my lodestone. The sweat beading on the back of his neck fascinated me. He had a really beautifully shaped head, brown and lovely.

    Watching him helped me not look at my hands groping through empty air or across illusory vistas that still looked to me like streaming masses of ribbons. Often I shut my eyes and felt along the rugged cliff rather than grow dizzy from the confusion between what I could see and what I could touch.

    Hadn¡¯t it always been that way with Andevai? When I had first met him, I had seen one man, but I had had to discover the part of himself he kept concealed.

    ¡°Catherine, are you paying attention? Don¡¯t grab there. Up a little¡­ with your right hand¡­ there.¡±

    Often we rested on ledges no wider than my feet, leaning against the rock wall, and I was grateful for each respite because my forearms were beginning to burn and my fingers to get as dry as if they were being sandpapered. But we could not fully relax until we reached what I saw as a polished clamshell of a platform tucked along the curve of an ebony tower. After he smashed the rungs of what looked to me like a glass ladder that led up from below, we sat huddled against the wall and shared half of the water in the second flask. He dozed off, slumped against me. I could not sleep; my hands were smarting and my arms felt numb.

    Were the courts still feasting? No movement troubled the bridges and spans and balconies whose complex patterns haunted me. I stared at the beautiful city and I hated it for lying to me. I hated myself for seeing it as beautiful, for believing it must be so because all the tales said it was.

    People told so many stories whose fractured truths hid as much as they revealed. What we did not know could hurt us. What we chose to ignore could cause harm, maybe to ourselves and maybe to others.

    Vai sighed in his sleep. I rested my head against his. We had come by twists and turns more than halfway to the outer wall. I thought surely I could let him rest for a few more breaths, but then I heard a scuffling and scratching below and above. The rasp of tongues tickled the cut on my arm, and my blood oozed. The cursed creatures were tracking us again.

    Vai stiffened, going so tense that I thought he had woken, but he was still asleep. He murmured words in the village dialect he had spoken as a child. Most of the words slipped past, too thickly patois for me to understand. Then he spoke almost desperately. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me!¡±

    He jolted awake and shoved me away so roughly that he almost pushed me off the edge.

    I grabbed his arms, dragging myself to a stop with his weight. ¡°Vai! It¡¯s me. It¡¯s Catherine.¡±

    He sucked in air. For an instant I was frighteningly certain he did not recognize me. Then all the air went out of him. He pulled an arm out of my grasp and rubbed his eyes.

    ¡°What were you dreaming?¡±

    He looked away, jaw clenched. ¡°Nothing.¡±

    I pressed a hand on his chest. He flinched.

    I sat back, withdrawing my hand. He curled his hands into fists, and I watched him climb the pinnacle of disdain as his expression settled into the scornful arrogance that had so scalded me when we had first been thrown together. One wrong word and he would lash out. Not with his fists¡ªas Auntie Djeneba had once said, ¡°He don¡¯ seem like that kind¡±¡ªbut with words meant to cut and intimidate.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand how you can see through the illusion,¡± I said soothingly. ¡°I still see the city. The ziggurat is quite splendid if you don¡¯t mind knowing you¡¯re meant to be the main course at the feast. I¡¯m ready to go on, if you are. You know I trust you, my love.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t get out of this foul pit quickly enough.¡± His voice was harsh, but I understood the anger was not directed at me.

    I took a swallow of water and offered him the rest.

    He wiped his mouth, his lips so dry they were cracking. ¡°I hear them. They¡¯re following us again. There¡¯s one gap we have to clear. That gap is the one you described as a moat. But I have a plan for that. If you¡¯re sure, Catherine, utterly sure the creatures can¡¯t harm you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± I lied. I could have become an actress in the theater after all, because he did not guess how my heart trembled. ¡°Remember, I was bitten by a salter and not infested. The teeth of the plague can¡¯t take hold in my blood.¡±

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    But even though it was true I could not be harmed by the bite of a human infested with the salt plague, the bite of a ghoul was rumored to be far more potent and virulent. I had to take the chance. Nothing mattered except that we escape, and this was the way we had to do it.

    We climbed, sometimes a little up or a little down but always transverse. Once I thought I was moving through a fall of water, only there was no pressure and no current, only grit sifting into my face, the dust and salt of the mortal world. Was this place pitted with gates into salt mines all across the mortal world? Now was not the time to find out.

    He had plotted our route well. Had we not had so many narrow ledges on which to take quick rests, I would never have made it, for my arms were beginning to feel they were being squeezed in a vise. Naturally he spoke no word of complaint, just massaged my forearms whenever we halted, although his, too, had become as hard as the rock we clung to. My legs trembled from fatigue, and my buttocks ached from all the pushing up and down and sideways.

    He whispered. ¡°Look, love. Look. We¡¯ve made it to the edge.¡±

    Below us a path paved with gems meandered alongside the moat. On its far side rose the outer wall, looking to my eyes like the forbidding face of an ice cliff. On the path roamed the personages of the courts, resplendent in their vivid robes and changeable aspects. Groups flashed along more distant bridges and ramps toward us, as if gathering to hear a poet sing.

    Vai unwound the kerchief he¡¯d knotted around his neck. Easing his sword partway out of the sheath, he cut his skin for the first time.

    Red blood welled up.

    A cry shivered through the air. Dust spattered from the walls.

    Vai pressed the kerchief to his wound to sop up the blood. The greedy whispering of the courts scraped the air like fingernails down a chalkboard. Hadn¡¯t they had enough blood? Could they ever be satisfied?

    ¡°Catherine.¡± He handed me the kerchief, then clambered to where the moat ran narrowest. The liquid in the moat was churned into a froth of pinkish foam like spume bubbling from the mouth of a dying man. I probed with a foot down a wall I could feel but not see, and found a toehold. Easing myself down, I settled my weight on one aching foot; my calf cramped but I had to grit my teeth and endure it. I let go with my upper hand and groped for a lower place to grab. A hand, or claw, slammed up, dislodging my boot.

    So I leaped down among them. Cats always land on their feet. I plunged forward, smearing the blood that stained the kerchief onto any surface I could find: their robes, their outstretched hands. I rubbed a speck of blood on the path, feeling dirt beneath my fingers instead of the smooth silver walkway I saw with my eyes.

    The fine, elegant people turned on each other in a frenzy. I jammed the kerchief into the gaping jaw of a being wearing the face of a distinguished elderly man and dressed in the formal court clothes a man would have worn a hundred years earlier, all silk and gold-threaded embroidery.

    I shoved my way out of the clawing, jibbering crowd as they converged to tear at the one who was suckling on the cloth. A few had enough sense to smell Vai¡¯s escape. I raced out in front of them.

    The interior maze ended without touching the outer wall. It was this gap we had to cross. He dashed across the moat as if there were no liquid in it and started climbing the outer wall, but he was still within reach of their teeth as he tested a grip. I followed him into the steaming waters, but the molten fire in the moat was an illusion. It was all grainy dirt.

    A creature glided toward me. She had the seeming of a woman whose coiled hair was laden with gold coins. I thrust. My sword pierced her. Pain shivered up my arm, but I pushed, leaning my full weight into her.

    She shattered, coming apart like a pouch of sand when it is ripped open.

    Where the grains soaked into the ground, the veil of illusion cleared. As if through glass, I saw the dusty surface of salt. I smelled the sun of the mortal world, and heard the shrill whistle of wind blowing beneath an empty sky.

    ¡°Catherine!¡±

    The exhalation of their breath iced my neck. To climb I had to sheathe my sword. Fear propelled me. I swarmed up the face of the cliff as he hoarsely called directions so I need not pause and look, for if I had hesitated, they would have grabbed me.

    ¡°Up three hands, now right, another hand farther, so you see it? There! Your foot to where your knee is. In a half step. There, that¡¯s right. Push up, it¡¯s wide enough to hold you. See my left foot? Let go with your left hand. You grab where my foot was¡­¡±

    So we climbed, me sweating from the pain that flamed in my arms and hands. I was so exhausted I was shaking, but I was not going to lose him.

    He disappeared over the rim, then reappeared to haul me up beside him. I shrugged out of the pack. We lay panting side by side. The length of my blade was pressed into me by the weight of his leg alongside mine. I rested on my back, staring at the pewter bowl of the sky and what appeared to me now as the high white wall of the palace rising behind my head exactly as I had seen it before I had entered. Vai lay on his stomach, and he appeared to be looking over the edge of an escarpment as he stared into the pit we had escaped. I had to shut my eyes because I could not tell which direction was up. I felt dizzy. His ragged breathing was all the sign I needed to know that he, too, was fighting the toll taken by our exertions.

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    ¡°We¡¯ve got to keep moving,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ve got to reach the jade doors and retrieve Queen Anacaona¡¯s head. Someone is sure to come after us.¡±

    ¡°We need to retrieve what?¡± Vai sat up as if he had finally woken out of a bad dream.

    I opened my eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll explain later. There¡¯s a jade door with warded ground somewhere along this exterior. We can cross there.¡±

    We stumbled to our feet as I hoisted the pack. Vai stowed the tools and slung on the carpenter¡¯s apron. His face was gray with exhaustion, but he trudged forward stubbornly. My entire body hurt as we staggered along the rim of the palace.

    I wanted to ask Vai if he saw the white stone walls rising beside us, if he saw a plaza stretching to all sides like a sheep-mown pasture, but the effort of forming words was too great. All I could do was look ahead, hoping we would soon reach the jade door and its warded ground.

    A cloud of crows swept past, flying as before a blow. Wind sheared across my back. I faltered, looking over my shoulder. A wrath of clouds boiled toward us. Lightning flashed, although no thunder sounded. Rain lashed the ground in sheets.

    I had seen that storm before. I knew what it portended.

    I grabbed Vai¡¯s hand. ¡°It¡¯s my sire coming. We¡¯ve got to run.¡±

    Light flashed on the horizon ahead of us. It splintered into a smoky tide like the crests of multiple waves tumbling toward us: a dragon¡¯s dream.

    Vai¡¯s hand tightened on mine as he sucked in a harsh breath.

    We were caught between Hunt and dream, between death and obliteration.

    A plain black coach rolled up, pulled by four white horses whose hooves did not quite touch the ground. A coachman sat on the front of the box. He had the white skin and short, spiky, lime-whitened hair of a man of Celtic birth. He wore a plain black coat, thin leather gloves, and a hat that he tipped up with the handle of his whip, greeting us. The footman hanging on at the back of the coach was no man but an eru; she appeared as a woman with black skin, short black hair, a third eye in the center of her forehead, and her wings neatly furled. She did not let go of the coach. Instead the door swung open. My sire beckoned from the interior.

    ¡°Best hurry,¡± he said with a calm smile. ¡°This coach is a refuge, a sort of warded ground all on its own. The tide is coming in fast. You¡¯ll be safe inside here.¡±

    His sober dash jacket and neat black trousers made him look like a humble clerk on the way to his day¡¯s work at his master¡¯s offices. You would never have guessed he had recently hunted down and killed some poor soul in the mortal world, and then been forced to bow before the spirit courts and have all that power ripped from him to feed them instead. Not until you looked into his eyes. His gaze had as much mercy as a knife in the dark.

    ¡°Do you imagine we believe you?¡± asked Vai in the tone of a man at his supper who has just been told that the crust of bread set before him is the haunch of beef he requested.

    ¡°I imagine you have no choice but to join me. I have something of yours, Cat.¡± He indicated the Taino basket in which I kept the cacica¡¯s head.

    ¡°How could you get that?¡± I demanded.

    ¡°I saw you hang it on the tree. Best hurry, Daughter.¡±

    I looked at Vai, and Vai looked at me.

    A smile brightened his weary face too briefly, but it was enough to strengthen me. There is more than one way to skin a cat. There were two doors in the coach, one that opened onto the spirit world and one that opened into the mortal world.

    Vai nodded.

    I swung up into the interior of the coach and gripped my sire¡¯s arms so he could not slam the door in Vai¡¯s face and thus leave him outside at the mercy of the tide.

    ¡°Father! I missed you so much!¡± I leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, my lips warm against his cold, cold skin.

    I had the intense pleasure of watching my sire blink in bewildered astonishment.

    Before he could react, I snatched the basket off the seat and slung it over my body. Then I clambered past him. Grabbing the latch, I pushed down with all my strength.

    It did not budge. It did not shift at all.

    I hissed, ¡°Open up, I beg you.¡±

    The latch¡¯s eyes glimmered into life as two stripes of light on brass. Its mouth was a flat line. It said nothing. And it stayed stubbornly locked.

    The other door slammed shut. The coach lurched forward, swinging in a wide turn. I tumbled onto the upholstered bench opposite my sire as Vai pushed past me and, in his turn, grabbed the latch. Sparks spat with a cracking cascade of pops. With a grunt of pain Vai hit the bench and sat down hard next to me. He swore as he shook his hand.

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    My sire touched fingers to the spot I had kissed. ¡°A transparent ploy. Truly, I thought better of you, Cat. You might have known I would have anticipated such a move.¡±

    He rapped on the ceiling of the coach with his cane.

    ¡°Back to the pit,¡± he said in a conversational tone I knew the coachman could hear. His gaze settled on me. ¡°You¡¯ve done well, Daughter. You¡¯ve proven you are strong and stubborn, but still not quite smart enough. You¡¯re still not quite thinking things through. Affection weakens you. I gave him a chance to survive so he would still be living when you found him. This time I will dump him straight into the pit. I don¡¯t need him any longer. Let me assure your tender heart that he will feel no pain once they¡¯ve drained his blood, for the blood of mortals is the force that gives the courts power over the rest of us. He¡¯ll become something like them, only without a mind.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t known I could move so fast. My sword slid like lightning out of its sheath. I knew exactly where to aim: up under his ribs at his heart.

    Vai slammed into me, jostling my point so it skipped off the upholstery and lodged in a corner. I cursed and tugged it free.

    ¡°A killing blow will kill you, not him!¡± He kicked past my legs and shoved open the door that led back into the spirit world. ¡°Stay where you are, Catherine.¡±

    ¡°Vai!¡±

    ¡°Better this than the salt plague, love.¡±

    He jumped out of the rushing coach into the path of the incoming tide of light.

    I did not think. I leaped after him.

    The dragon¡¯s dream roared down over us in a rainbow of violent colors. The call of a bell split the world, air from water, fire from stone, flesh from spirit. The vibration rang up through the ground and down from the sky until there was no existence except the tremor of sound shivering the entire world as if the world were the drum being beaten.

    I threw my arms around him, and I kissed him. Let his embrace be the last thing I knew. He held me tightly. A cloak of magic rippled from around his body to envelop me as within wings.

    The tide ripped over us like sea spray followed by the pounding of a huge crashing wave. We were driven down as an abyss opened. Every part of existence yawed sideways, then tipped upside down. We fell into smoke as the world around us vanished.

    20

    Death wasn¡¯t all bad, because it felt a lot like kissing Vai. Our embrace distracted me for longer than it should have. Then I remembered what had happened. Still clutching him, I broke off the kiss.

    Inhaled.

    I could not breathe.

    I could not breathe.

    I could not breathe.

    An undertow sucked me down.

    The abyss of the past is a black chasm. It is too dark to see clearly, yet its waters run all through us.

    I am six years old. In the drowning depths of the Rhenus River, my papa and mama are dying. As the water closes over my head, my mother¡¯s strong hand slips out from mine. She has lost me, and I¡¯ve lost her. I open my mouth to cry for her, but all that rushes in is smoke.

    We were going to die in the smoke unless I could find a gate and cut our way out.

    ¡°Mama,¡± I whispered, clawing my way through dense fog toward a half-glimpsed beacon.

    For there she was, she and Daniel, in the shadow of the ice cliff. They were striding across a stony shore to meet the men who were pushing a boat down to the ice-gray waters for their escape.

    ¡°Mama,¡± I said, louder, finding strength in desperation.

    She halted, dragging Daniel to a stop. ¡°Did you hear something?¡±

    He looked up at the face of the ice. ¡°Just the wolves and the wind.¡±

    ¡°No, something else.¡± She rested a hand on her belly and extended the other arm as if hoping to touch something she could not quite see. ¡°A child. I heard a child calling to me.¡±

    Blessed Tanit, keep me in your heart. Do not let me die.

    I will not die.

    I bit my lip hard enough to raise blood as I reached for and grasped the memory of her hand.

    21

    ¡°Catherine! Stop fighting me! You¡¯re impossible to keep hold of when you wriggle like this.¡±

    I slithered out of a grip that was dragging me through icy water, but my numb limbs had no strength. The tide dragged me under as it hauled at my skirts.

    A man lifted me above the water. I spewed all the cursed salt water I had swallowed. My bitten lip stung. I sluggishly realized that Vai was carrying me out of the sea. He dumped me onto a stony shore, then slapped me repeatedly on the back as I retched.

    I found my voice, although it was sadly thin and mewling. ¡°Why must I always swallow seawater? It tastes so foul.¡±

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    Vai collapsed beside me onto the pebbled strand. He fumbled to unbuckle himself from his carpenter¡¯s apron, wheezing as he gulped in air.

    I thought the weight of the pack was going to crush me. Rolling onto my side took all my strength. The hard stones felt heavenly because they were solid. The sea sloshed up to tickle my boots, then receded. Fiery Shemesh, but I was freezing!

    The wind was coarse and unforgivingly cold.

    Vai was still wheezing. I tugged my arms out of the straps to shed the pack. With the sodden basket bumping on my rear, I crawled over to him, only to realize he was not wheezing but laughing in a hoarse sort of way.

    He smiled at me. Smiled!

    His smile acted as an infusion of hope. My lips twitched, fighting upward.

    ¡°Look!¡± He gestured.

    A blustery gray sea stretched away from the shore. Across the channel, barely visible under a haze of cloud, rose the blue-dark shore of another land. But that was not the strange thing. A ship glided atop the waves, three-masted, sails unfurled but unmoving despite the stinging breeze. As I gaped, wondering why I could not see any sailors racing about on the deck or climbing the masts, one of the sails began to ripple, then the second, and then the third. Where there hadn¡¯t been one before, a man appeared halfway up the mainmast.

    It was illusion, taking form in front of my eyes as he wove cold magic with a speed and dexterity that astounded me.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been washed back into the mortal world, love.¡± The ship vanished as he sat up and spat. ¡°Gah. What I wouldn¡¯t do for a glass of my mother¡¯s hoarhound tea sweetened with honey. Catherine! You¡¯re shuddering.¡±

    He pulled me against him. I could have sworn warmth radiated from his body, although it was hard to feel anything. My wool skirt clung to my legs, the fabric crackling as if it were actually beginning to freeze.

    ¡°There¡¯s shelter,¡± he said. ¡°Walk with me.¡±

    The shoreline was stony beach. A little peninsula of land sloped up to a cliff of ice that loomed over us like fate. There was no vegetation, nothing but rock and ice and sand. Crevices and canyons had dug staircases into the ice cliff, pocked with boulders. On the tiny peninsula, lying between ice cliff and icy sea, a deposit of huge rocks formed a low cave.

    ¡°See if there¡¯s any driftwood to build a fire,¡± he said. ¡°The cave is the sort of place it might get swept into and caught.¡±

    ¡°I c-c-can¡¯t build a fire.¡±

    ¡°Did you pack no flint?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll k-k-kill the fire.¡±

    ¡°As long as I can work cold magic, I will not freeze to death, but you will. Do you hear me, Catherine? Tell me you understand what I¡¯m saying.¡±

    The wind gusted out of the north, sweeping over the lip of the ice. A voice flew on that wind, dangerous and wild. A howl rose.

    I staggered to a halt. ¡°Do you hear that?¡±

    ¡°Come on, love. Just a little farther. We¡¯ll see if there¡¯s fuel for a fire and then I¡¯ll go back and fetch our gear¡­¡±

    Wolves.

    We hadn¡¯t escaped. The Hunt was after us. My sire had already found us. What did he want from me? Or was he just angry that I had rescued first my cousin and then my husband from him?

    The presence of beasts stalking a person concentrates the mind wonderfully. The landscape before me settled and I knew where I was. I had reached for my mother, and somehow the connection between us had brought me to a place she had once walked. ¡°They left the other boat in the cave. We¡¯ve got to drag it down to the water and get out of here before the wolves come.¡±

    His grip tightened on my arm. ¡°Love, you¡¯re raving. There¡¯s no wolves, and no boat¡­¡± I curled my lips in a silent snarl that made his eyes widen. ¡°But let¡¯s just go see about the boat.¡±

    We picked our way up the slope and in under the dank shadow. A huge slab of a boulder made a weighty roof, giving the cave the look of a crude shelter of stone built by a giant. I cleared debris off a hump to reveal canvas stretched taut over a rowboat. The boat had been turned over and raised off the ground on stones. Two oilcloth bundles with oars and oarlocks had been tucked along the underside of the benches, together with an unexpected bounty of a spare flint, an iron pot, and a hunter¡¯s knife.

    ¡°Lord of All. How did you know this would be here?¡±

    ¡°My mother reached out to me from the past and pulled me here.¡± I dragged the canvas off the boat. It was big enough to seat six men, but I thought we could handle it. Howls drifted off the height. ¡°We have to get out of here before the wolves come. Can¡¯t you hear them?¡±

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    ¡°It¡¯s just the wind.¡± He rubbed my hands between his. ¡°You need to warm yourself at a fire before we try to cross the water. Your lips are blue. People can die just from exposure to cold.¡±

    Through chattering teeth, I spoke. ¡°You have to believe me about my mother.¡±

    He paused, then resumed chafing my hands. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. The chain that binds our marriage pulled you to me in Expedition.¡±

    ¡°That was the machinations of General Camjiata and James Drake.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that as well, but didn¡¯t you ever wonder why you found me so easily the moment you stepped onto the jetty? The chain that binds us drew you to me. You¡¯ll always be bound to your parents as well. We¡¯ll rig these ropes so we can pull the boat over, then haul it down on the canvas. But once we get it down there with everything in it, then you must promise me if there are no wolves you¡¯ll build a fire for long enough to warm up and dry out that wool a little bit, and my coat and gloves, which you so wisely brought. By the way the light falls I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s late winter or early spring. It¡¯s still morning, so we¡¯ll have time to cross before dusk. Catherine? Are you listening?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, for the sound of his voice was so comforting.

    We rigged the rope, flipped the boat, and dragged it over the stone beach to the water. The work warmed me but at the same time sucked all energy from me. Afterward, it was all I could do to stay upright, leaning on the stern, as he fetched our gear and arranged it as ballast. The cold gnawed through my flesh to the bone. He set the oarlocks and oars. Out of the dripping pack he unfolded the winter coat I had carried just for him and put it on me. He looked me up and down. He had the worst frown on his face, startling in its intensity. I had never seen that expression on him before. I had no idea what to make of it.

    ¡°Catherine.¡± He spoke my name with what sounded like anger. ¡°You are now returning to the cave. I¡¯ll build a fire and leave so you can light it and get warm¡­¡±

    A howl skirled down on the wind. I watched him register the sound. His brow wrinkled. Anger flickered in the twitch of his cheeks. His gaze lifted to the rim of the ice shelf.

    High up on the path, three shaggy wolves nosed into view. Four more wolves were already most of the way down a canyon path that led from the rim to the beach. In our effort to shove the boat to the shore, we hadn¡¯t noticed them. They were huge. I smelled their hunger.

    Desperation sheared through me. I braced and shoved, but the boat shifted barely a finger¡¯s breadth. ¡°We¡¯ve got to go¡­¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡±

    My cane stung my leg, woken by Vai¡¯s cold magic. A change in pressure made my ears pop. I dropped to my knees, sure I was about to be slammed into the ground.

    A crack ripped through the air. A weird moaning noise followed, succeeded by a rushing whoosh, and then by a rumble. His mouth curved into the sort of smile a man gives to his hated opponent when he knows he has won and can rub it in the other man¡¯s face. It was the smile that had driven Drake to hate him so much that the fire mage had tried to get revenge on Vai through me.

    ¡°Move!¡± he said with a laugh, throwing his shoulder to the boat.

    The rumble grew to a roar. Vai slung me into the boat and hopped in, scrambling to the oars. He rowed hard. I turned to look behind.

    Ice calved off the high cliff. Caught in the collapse, the wolves tumbled and vanished into the crash of ice. The boom of the avalanche filled the world as it buried the canyon. White mist boiled up in sheets.

    ¡°Brace yourself, Catherine.¡±

    A rolling tongue of ice and frozen snow spilled across the tiny peninsula, hissed over the beach, and slumped into the water with a crackling roar like a hundred muskets going off at once. A wave pitched us backward, but Vai kept the boat steady as we were driven partway across the channel. Out in the middle of the water, the choppy waves and wind caught us in a buffeting pitch and yaw. He set to, rowing hard, as I shivered inside his wet wool coat.

    ¡°Can you row, Catherine? It would warm you up.¡±

    Looking at his bare hands on the oars made me want to weep. Cold had dug its claws all the way to my heart. Strangely, the bitter air and cold spray off the sea had no effect on him. If anything, he seemed invigorated. ¡°I c-c-can try, but I haven¡¯t before.¡±

    ¡°Then not in these conditions, love.¡±

    The rocking and tipping of the rowboat was beginning to make me feel queasy. ¡°Can¡¯t you make a wind to blow us?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want wind out on the open water in a rowboat. Anyway, it¡¯s not like that. Wind can¡¯t be confined or channeled. I can shift masses of air and freeze rain in the clouds so it falls as sleet or hail¡­¡± He glanced past me, eyes widening.

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    More wedges of ice shook free from the ice shelf. Mist sprayed. The sound of their crashing fall rolled over the channel. A swell rose under us, then a second and a third. He swore in a low voice. I huddled in the wet coat. It would be easier just to go to sleep.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean that to happen, and I¡¯m not sure what just did.¡± He frowned at me as if I had said something to offend him. ¡°Talk to me, Catherine. Tell me about your father.¡±

    Fury shook me awake. ¡°I never want to speak of him again!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean the one who sired you. I meant your father. Daniel Hassi Barahal. The one whose portrait is in your locket. Did you see your father on the beach?¡±

    My father.

    Words emerged, although I scarcely knew what I meant to say. ¡°They had just come down from the ice shelf. They were fighting wolves. There was a dead man all bloody. I think his name was Gaius. The Baltic Ice Expedition ended in disaster. Most of the explorers died on the ice, but some survived. Most of the other attempts to explore the ice have ended with the expeditions vanishing forever. I wonder if they accidentally cross into the spirit world and get eaten there. Probably it was just wolves who caught them.¡±

    ¡°Are you suggesting this boat is left over from the Baltic Ice Expedition?¡± he asked in the calmest voice imaginable, although he looked annoyed and stern in that way he had when he was overcome by a strong emotion. ¡°Tell me about that, Catherine. Keep talking.¡±

    If there was one thing I was good at, it was talking. So I kept talking, even if I stumbled and lost my train of thought. He persisted in asking questions, prodded and poked in a verbal sort of way since obviously because he was rowing the entire time he could not actually poke and prod me, although I had a vague memory that I ought to wish he ought to be able to, but that was a long time ago and anyway it was so very cold and my body ached so much and I was so very tired that eventually I lapsed into silence.

    We bumped up on a shore in the lee of a tiny inlet. Ice rimed the shallow water where a stream burbled through a tumble of rocks. A blanket of snow carpeted the hollows, but the wind had swept most of the land clean. There were no trees and little vegetation, only lichen and moss. In the sheltered lee of forgotten boulders and clefts in the earth, waxy-leafed plants spread, laced with frost. Nothing stirred, not even birds a-wing.

    Pull up the boat. Turn it over and stow the oars. Fill the bottles with stream water. Walk. Walk. Walk.

    I did what he told me to do, as a goblin¡¯s automaton obeys. Was that how the coachman functioned? Was the coachman truly of a goblin¡¯s making, or was that just a story he had told me? Would I ever find out?

    There was no wood or we would have stopped to make a fire, even though Vai would have had to leave me. By following the stream, he found an animal trail that he tracked like a hunter.

    We rounded a boulder to find ourselves face-to-face with a huge woolly rhinoceros. Its twinned horns dipped as it gave a growling snort. A muzzy instinct woke in the pit of my stomach that the creature could trample and gore us. Vai placed himself between me and the animal. He spoke words I did not know in a cadence whose rhythms sailed past, as if he was politely greeting the beast. It snorted as in answer. As Vai eased us past, it silently watched us go.

    For an eternity we walked. Once we ran across a fire pit ringed with stone, sheltered on the lee side of a slope, but there was nothing to burn except straggling patches of gorse, so he decided we should go on.

    It was just so hard to put one foot in front of the other because I kept staggering off the path and catching myself at the last moment on the point of my cane. An idea grew in my head, a very compelling idea that I ought to have thought of long before.

    ¡°I would be warmer if I took off these wet clothes,¡± I said.

    He was striding up a slope amid winter-whitened grasses and hardy sedge. The thought of trudging after him up such a brutal incline made my legs congeal, so I stopped moving and fumbled at the coat.

    He ran back to me. ¡°No! Absolutely not, Catherine.¡± He kept talking as he dragged me along. ¡°Do you see the prints? There have been hunters or trappers here. The track leads to a place people go. There¡¯s likely a sheltered spot where they camp.¡±

    He broke off as we reached the top of the slope. I really wanted to find a small hole to crawl into. Instead I looked up.

    The land ended at a flat shoreline. Beyond it silver waters spread like a mirror. The distant haze of the far shore melted into the encroaching dusk. Maybe there were trees on the other side, but I couldn¡¯t be sure. The near shore was dusted with snow, so the whole land radiated a white sheen. A wide stream was crackled over with a skin of ice. Someone had built a crude wooden pier where the stream flowed into the wide water. Just inland from the pier stood a shed, and next to it huddled a small log house with a sod roof. A rowboat had been tipped onto its side under the low eaves of the hut.

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    He thought it was a good idea to go down. I slogged along, steered by his grip. My sword flared as he shaped bulbs of cold fire. A door gave way to a narrow entry hall with a stall for animals, where he dumped our gear. Inside a second door lay a bench and table and a bed tucked into an alcove with cupboards built in beneath. The hearth was empty but for a large kettle and roasting spit. The room was cold, windowless, and dark, with barely enough room to turn around in.

    While he explored, I drifted, reflexively setting my cane and the basket on the table. Hadn¡¯t I been carrying a pack before? I couldn¡¯t remember how he had come to have it. Fortunately I was no longer cold. His exclamation roused me. He was pulling skins and furs from the cupboards beneath the bed.

    ¡°This is a hunters¡¯ refuge. A place men can take shelter if they¡¯re caught out in bad weather. There¡¯s bound to be a village within a few days¡¯ travel. My village keeps the same sort of shelters.¡± He glanced at me. ¡°Catherine, now you must take off your wet clothes.¡±

    My fingers were too numb to unfasten buttons.

    He undressed me, dried me roughly, and wrapped me up on the bed in the furs. Then he went outside with the kettle, brought it back full, and laid wood onto the hearth although obviously he could not light it. Our wet clothes and gear he spread over the table and bench.

    He stripped and got in with me. His skin was so warm that after a while I began to hurt all over. Chafing my hands, my cheeks, my legs, he talked a stream of words that I did not fully understand except that I loved to hear him speak. I began to shiver, and at length the shivering subsided as a frail glow of warmth took root in my frozen heart.

    Blessed Tanit! We had escaped the spirit world! We were going to live!

    As I relaxed, so did he, and I slid into a sleep without dreams.

    22

    I opened my eyes to darkness. A night breeze whistled in the chimney, but nothing else stirred. The air was wintry cold except where we were bundled warmly together, skin to skin. I lay for a while, wondering about him. He had rowed and tramped for miles in wet clothes after being half drowned in the icy sea, just as I had. In all the time I¡¯d known him he had never seemed particularly affected by cold. Hadn¡¯t he once told me that magic fed him? I had thought it a figure of speech but now I wondered if it was true in a strange and secret way.

    He shifted but did not wake as his hand settled on my hip. I had him back.

    My spirit exulted, and I was surprised at how amorous I felt. However, my throat was raw, my mouth tasted like a stew of brine and bile, and I wanted a bath. I was ravenously hungry and still tired, and well aware of how desperately we needed drink, food, and dry clothes. And then?

    Then I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up as he moved, rubbing his head.

    ¡°I feel I¡¯ve been hit by a hammer,¡± he muttered hoarsely. ¡°My muscles ache, and I¡¯m a little dizzy.¡±

    He swung out of the bed. The shutters were closed, but I knew it must be day because my sword was a cane. As he shaped a globe of cold fire, the sword flared to life. I admired his backside as he stretched and then walked to the table to touch the clothes.

    He winced. ¡°Ah! Cold and clammy!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a lot of trouble, Vai. I could have had a fire roaring all night.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep you as warm as you could ever hope to be,¡± he said with a provocative look. ¡°But not right now, love. I¡¯m sure this headache comes from thirst and hunger. You must be starving.¡±

    I tested the puffy, tender bruise where I¡¯d bitten myself. ¡°I¡¯m so worried about Bee and Rory. We¡¯ve got to get to Havery. The family won¡¯t protect her from mages, princes, or generals, not if they¡¯re offered an advantageous agreement in exchange for her person. Bee thinks she can scold powerful men into obeying her but that only makes them want her more¡­ Noble Ba¡¯al, Vai!¡±

    I told him about Amadou Barry.

    He whistled, shivering as he dressed in the damp clothes. ¡°Washed away in the tide! What a fool! Anyway, we can¡¯t go on until we¡¯ve dried our clothes. You must light a fire. I¡¯m going to see what¡¯s in the shed. Maybe there¡¯s something I can use to snare a rabbit or catch a fish.¡±

    ¡°You could stun some poor unsuspecting beast with your magic, couldn¡¯t you?¡±

    He kissed me on the forehead. ¡°I already have.¡±

    Clearly I hadn¡¯t yet recovered from yesterday¡¯s travail, because my mind had barely managed to trudge past several bland retorts before he returned to inform me that he was headed out to hunt and there was meanwhile a treasure-house of provisions in the shed. Then he was gone.

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    I gasped as I set my feet on the packed earth floor. The cold seared right through my skin. I ached all over, but I knew that would fade. With a blanket sewn of lusciously soft beaver pelts wrapped around me, I got the fire going and the kettle heating. The bench shoved right up against the brick of the hearth helped the clothes dry more quickly. Wool steamed, its scent rising. The worn cotton cloth I had stolen on Salt Island fluttered as the fire roared.

    Shivering in wet wool, I ventured out of the hut and ransacked the shed. Right inside the door I found a large tin tub and a pair of wooden buckets. From the evidence of the frames and troughs, I supposed the hut and shed to be a haven where winter trappers and hunters could deal with their kills. Since the winter pelts of animals were thickest, it made sense that winter was the best time to hunt and trap for furs, and if villagers came there every winter, they likely stocked it late in the autumn. Crocks and baskets sat on frames out of the reach of rats. Parsnips! Barley! Lentils and broad beans! Nuts in the shell, already dried! Withered bunches of dried nettle and hoarhound hung from the central beams. Dried vetch for animal fodder was bundled in sheaves. When I discovered a stoppered jar of linseed oil, I almost wept.

    Would the villagers who used this hut consider us thieves? It didn¡¯t matter. Our canoe had hit the sand. We simply could go no farther right now.

    Quite some time later I had barleynut-cakes baking on the bricks, a pottage of parsnips, lentils, and barley simmering, and a pleasing tisane of nettle and hoarhound at brew. I made a place for the cacica¡¯s skull at the back of the table, against the wall, and set before her a slice of parsnip garnished with a drop of the tisane. After this offering, I drank the first infusion of the tisane to soothe my raw throat and gobbled down two bowls of soup.

    Eating and drinking improved my mood and constitution immeasurably. I sorted out all our gear to repair later. It seemed prudent to carefully test the sheaths to make sure they hadn¡¯t cracked from the cold, and to rub them with a little oil; if one was careful, perhaps they could be reused. I pinned up my braid and bathed using the lavender soap we had taken from our old home. Afterward, I washed out my filthy clothes, dumped the dirty water, and combed out my hair. The cotton from Expedition dried quickly, so I dressed in my bodice and a wrapped skirt. The tub was half filled with steaming water for Vai, and more was heating.

    I was contemplating a rock-hard slab of dried whitefish when the fire flickered. With a disgruntled sigh the flames went out on a puff of ash.

    I pulled on my boots and dashed outside. It took me a moment to spot him trudging along the shoreline with three dead grouse slung on a line. He was farther away than I would have expected, until I saw what trailed behind him.

    A mage House troop of turbaned riders pursued him. They wore gray wool winter coats cut for riding, and their heads were wrapped in bright green turbans. The horses picked their way over the uneven ground. My heart pounded as I cursed under my breath, rage and frustration exploding. How had the mansa found us so quickly?

    I counted forty men before I noticed Vai glance over his shoulder to measure the distance between them and him. A lance that had been nothing more than a long spear with a wicked steel point unfurled a banner marked with the four phases of the moon, the sigil of Four Moons House.

    The moment he saw me waiting, the soldiers vanished in a patter of sleet that doused my rage. My heart fluttered as his step quickened. He was disheveled, dirt smeared like paint down one side of his face. His once-elegant clothes looked like a beggar¡¯s chance-met rags. He dazzled me.

    ¡°I thought the soldiers were real!¡±

    His face shone, dark and beautiful. ¡°My magic is unbelievably strong here.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t Professora Alhamrai say cold magic is stronger when the mage is close to the ice?¡±

    ¡°Cold mages have always known our power lies in the ice. There¡¯s so much nyama. I could do anything, love.¡± He laughed again as he hung the grouse from the eaves.

    ¡°Not that thinking poorly of yourself has ever been a problem for you,¡± I remarked.

    His eyes flared as he looked me up and down. He had the dizzy good humor of a man who is half drunk. ¡°Not only do you look clean and fed, but you obviously have no idea how beautiful you are, especially with your hair down and that mouth of yours talking. Are we going in?¡±

    The interior seemed dim after the bright sky and the snowy landscape. The lingering heat warmed me right up, or maybe it was hearing him stamp about in the entry hall behind me. I tested the water in the tub. He came in, shedding his coat.

    I was not minded to be subtle. I helped him out of his clammy garments and wrapped him in a fur for long enough to make him drink the hot tisane and eat soup and barleycake, although he wasn¡¯t much interested in the food. The tub interested him more, where I washed every bit of him with the sweet-smelling lavender soap. I managed to dry most of him with one of the pagnes before he picked me up.

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    ¡°The problem, Catherine, is that if you want a fire, I have to be outdoors away from the hearth. And if you want us to be together indoors, then¡±¡ªhe dumped me on the mattress¡ª¡°we are going to have to spend most of our time in this bed.¡±

    He braced his body over mine, his arms on either side of me. He lowered himself to brush a kiss over my lips, then pushed back up. The feel of him a hand¡¯s span above me made me wriggle. I had to put my hands all over him before finally pulling him down on top of me so we could kiss. When I was breathless, my heart racing and my body aflame, I broke off.

    ¡°What I don¡¯t understand is why you still have clothes on,¡± he murmured in a voice like honey.

    I nipped at the lobe of his ear. Did I have to inform the man of everything I wanted?

    He sat up, although he left a hand cupped over my right breast, fingers teasing absentmindedly through the cloth of my bodice in a way that made me squirm. ¡°You can¡¯t be waiting for me to undress you, can you? Perhaps there was something else you wanted to discuss? I had many long conversations in Expedition on the fascinating subject of the properties of heat, whether heat is dynamic or perhaps undulating a little bit like you are now.¡±

    ¡°If you are going to do nothing but taunt me, then I am done speaking to you, Andevai.¡±

    His eyebrows arched. He leaned closer. ¡°Not one more word?¡±

    I lifted my chin defiantly as I pinched my lips together.

    His lazy smile was more challenge than sweetness. ¡°We¡¯ll see about that.¡±

    23

    Much later, we lay quietly together. For the longest time I luxuriated in the feel of his arms around me. A light fall of snow drifted down outside, flakes dusting along the roof with a hiss.

    ¡°Vai?¡±

    ¡°Mmm?¡± He kissed my neck.

    ¡°Our efforts have left me hungry.¡± I stuck a foot out from under the blankets, and sucked in a breath. ¡°It¡¯s cold out there. You¡¯re such a nuisance, you fire banes.¡±

    Arms tensing, he stopped nuzzling. ¡°I never got used to that name. It always seemed like mockery to me, even when none was meant.¡±

    I really was hungry, but his confession fell so unexpectedly that I thought of how Kofi had seemed to understand Vai in ways I had never glimpsed. ¡°People in Expedition respected you.¡±

    ¡°Because I worked hard and was a good carpenter. Not because I am a cold mage.¡±

    ¡°How did you become such a good carpenter?¡±

    I felt his smile in the tilt of his head against my hair. ¡°My father and uncle were carpenters. They were teaching me the trade. Remember, my magic didn¡¯t bloom until I was sixteen.¡±

    ¡°I thought your father and uncle were hunters.¡±

    ¡°They were also hunters. But a person must have a trade. Before she became ill, my mother was renowned for her basketry. Did I ever tell you that?¡± He did not wait for my answer. ¡°When things got bad for me in the youth hall at Four Moons House, I started sneaking out to the carpentry barn. The mansa¡¯s uncle let me work there.¡± He began stroking my belly with a motion similar, I supposed, to that he might delicately use to plane a surface.

    ¡°The mansa¡¯s uncle was a carpenter?¡±

    ¡°An architect. He was educated in Camlun and had studied with learned masters across Europa. He said knowing the carpenter¡¯s craft helped him understand how to build. In a mage House, many sons and daughters have no magic, so they serve the House in some other way. Because he was the uncle of the mansa he was willing to defy the mansa by teaching me, since it was seen as lowborn of me to wish to work with my hands. But the work helped me concentrate on my studies. I couldn¡¯t be angry or fighting if I was working with my hands.¡± His stroking hand clenched.

    ¡°How did things get bad for you in the youth hall?¡±

    He pushed to sit. ¡°Can you heat enough water to scald and pluck the grouse? The sooner we can leave here and get away from the ice, the better. Next Hallows¡¯ Night your sire will come after us. I can hide from the Hunt in a troll maze, but you can¡¯t. We must find a way to protect you from him.¡±

    His sudden change of subject forced me to ask a question whose answer I feared. ¡°Did my sire harm you?¡±

    He gave a curt laugh leavened by a self-mocking smile that reassured me that he had not been hurt. ¡°He did an injury to my pride, that is certain. My magic counts for nothing in comparison to the magic he wields as easily as breathing.¡±

    ¡°Yet you had the courage to stab him. Even knowing how strong he is.¡±

    He pulled down the blankets to expose my right shoulder. I had once thought him the pampered, privileged son of a mage House, as highborn as he was arrogant. The callused touch of his fingers, however coaxing and sensual, reminded me that he had been born to a very different life. With kisses, he traced the two seamed scars on my shoulder. ¡°I hurt you instead. How could you know that horrible thing your sire threatened you with?¡±

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    ¡°The latch of the coach conceals two gremlin spirits, one inside and one outside. They can see and talk. When I was climbing up the tree in the spirit world, I saw through its eyes.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes, I remember you talking about the latch.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying you don¡¯t believe me about the latch?¡±

    He kissed my forehead. ¡°Love, why did you try to kill your sire? You would only have killed yourself.¡±

    I brushed my fingers across his lips. ¡°I was so angry and afraid that I forgot.¡± I swung out of bed and padded over to the table to dress. ¡°Although now that I think of it, if you hadn¡¯t stabbed him the first time and he hadn¡¯t boasted that the injury would fall on his children, then you wouldn¡¯t have known to stop me from trying to kill him.¡±

    ¡°That is convoluted logic even for you.¡± Sitting up, he shaped four globes of cold fire as easily as I might inhale. ¡°Love, how did your mother get pregnant by the Master of the Wild Hunt?¡±

    I got into my undergarments. ¡°He threatened to kill Daniel, and the other survivors, unless she allowed him to impregnate her.¡±

    He nodded gravely. ¡°The women in my village suffered much the same. My grandmother was sent up to the mage House to work in the hall. One of the men fancied her. Village girls like her weren¡¯t allowed to say no. He kept her as his mistress until he got her pregnant and discarded her.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you bloomed with cold magic? Because your grandsire was a magister?¡±

    He smiled as at an old joke. ¡°The man who sired my father on my grandmother was a clerk, not a mage. He was sent to Four Moons House as part of the retinue of a woman from another mage House when she married the mansa¡¯s father. Who¡¯s to say the magic came from his breeding? It might have bloomed from an unknown seed. It might have come from my grandmother.¡±

    ¡°The same place you got your looks? From your grandmother?¡±

    ¡°My mother did once say my father was the handsomest man she had ever seen. Of all his children, I resembled him the most.¡± He looked very appealing, sitting naked on the bedding. The light cast a sheen on his skin that made me want to rub my hands all over him all over again. The curve of his knee drew my eye to the line of his thigh. He had a way of looking at me that meant he knew I knew he knew I was admiring him, and that he was perfectly happy to be admired. He was like Bee in that way: That people enjoyed looking at him gave him satisfaction.

    ¡°You¡¯re sitting there hoping to tempt me back into bed, aren¡¯t you? But if we want to dry out your clothes, I have to light a fire.¡± I glanced at the skin nailed over the window. ¡°It will be dark soon, so I won¡¯t make you stay out for long.¡±

    ¡°How can you dry out my clothes? To go outside, I must have something to wear.¡±

    ¡°You can wear the clothes I brought for Rory. They¡¯ve dried out¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rory?¡± The courting Vai who had sat patiently through many evenings at the boardinghouse while I flirted with customers had never spoken quite this sharply to me.

    ¡°One of my sire¡¯s other children. The saber-toothed cat. You met him in the spirit world, at the hearth of the djelimuso Lucia Kante.¡±

    He lifted his chin, gone a little prickly as if embarrassed he had revealed a spark of jealousy. ¡°I remember the cats. The male is your half brother?¡±

    ¡°Yes. My sire can change form as he wishes.¡±

    ¡°I can guess the details.¡±

    ¡°I can understand why my sire would breed children in the spirit world. Not all of the predators in the Wild Hunt are his children, but at least some are, and he can bind all of us whenever he wishes, as he did Rory. But why did he want Tara Bell?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps he is one of those men who delight in knowing they can take a person who does not want them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure we can call him a man. I don¡¯t think he feels what we feel. He must have had some other reason. Think how useful I proved because I was able to cut a fence for him into Taino country.¡± I told him about the way my sire had enfolded me in his wings, the words he had whispered, and how I had thought at first that he had been speaking of Vai. ¡°But now I think he was talking about himself. Mortal blood feeds the spirit courts and gives them the power to bind their servants to them. He¡¯s bound to the courts, just as I¡¯m bound to him. Just as you and your village are bound to Four Moons House. Why tell me that a prince among slaves is still a slave if he does not chafe at his chains?¡±

    As he considered my words, I could not help but note what a decorative thinker he was, with his chiseled shoulders and those inventive fingers splayed along his chin. ¡°So ¡®the palace where those without blood cannot walk¡¯ was the pit. Our ancestors whose spirits walk in the spirit world can¡¯t cross into the palace¡ªthe pit¡ªbecause they have no blood.¡±

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    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s why the cacica couldn¡¯t cross and I had to leave her hanging¡­¡± I trailed off as I realized I had positioned the skull with a full view of the bed.

    Vai followed the line of my gaze. ¡°Catherine, why is there a skull on the table?¡±

    My cheeks burned.

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember seeing a skull when we arrived here yesterday,¡± he added.

    ¡°Blessed Tanit,¡± I murmured, blushing even more scaldingly as I turned the skull to face away from the bed and toward the hearth.

    ¡°I thought you were telling one of your jesting tales to entertain me, like you do. I didn¡¯t think the basket really had a head in it.¡±

    Was her vision confined to the spirit world? Could skulls see? Could a skull close its eyes if it had no eyelids? Or would it be forced to watch everything?

    ¡°Why would you even have the head of the cacica if the Wild Hunt killed her?¡± he asked.

    ¡°The Taino ancestors put me on trial for her murder but I talked my way out of it.¡±

    ¡°Naturally.¡±

    ¡°The council of elders recognized the merit in my arguments!¡±

    His shoulders tensed. ¡°You mean it. It¡¯s really the head of Queen Anacaona.¡±

    ¡°Of course it is! Why would I say so otherwise? I have spoken more to her after she was dead than I ever did while she was living. She admires your good manners and your¡­ attractive disposition. She told me that an unusually powerful fire bane like yourself would have been a challenge she would have savored.¡±

    His jaw tightened. He pulled the fur blanket around his torso and stood, primly covered from armpits to calves.

    ¡°Gracious Melqart, Vai. Are you embarrassed that the skull has seen you naked?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who turned her to look away from the bed.¡± His look of offended hauteur only emphasized his grip on the blanket.

    I laughed so hard that I cried. With a mumbled apology to the cacica, I draped cloth over the skull to cover the eye sockets.

    ¡°Oh, Vai,¡± I said, wiping tears off my cheeks. ¡°I adore you when you¡¯re indignant.¡±

    He was looking very smoky and irritated in a way that made me bite my lower lip lest I laugh again. The man looked delectable when he had been driven up the pinnacle of disdain by feeling his pride and dignity had been slighted. Without a word of warning, he hauled me to the bed and strenuously, if very quietly, worked through his wounded feelings with my full cooperation.

    Afterward he left me a sphere of cold fire and went outside. I uncovered the skull. I had grown so accustomed to the skull that it was easy to chat to her, although I was grateful there was no actual conversation or the chance that she would reveal by expression or unguarded comment what she might have seen. As I lit a fresh fire in the ashy hearth, I remarked that as difficult as it was to cope with the lack of fire, it certainly was pleasant to have cold fire as light. I explained that I had grown up in an impoverished household where beeswax candles were too expensive and tallow candles so smoky and foul-smelling it became a chore to sew or read by their light. I set a slab of fish to soak, and softened the dry barleycake in a hot parsnip-and-bean soup.

    The water in the tub held a ghost of warmth in which I scrubbed his clothes. I went through them first, but I did not say anything to the cacica when I discovered three of the prophylactic sheaths tucked up one of his cuffs. The rascal! On Hallows¡¯ Night he had been prepared to reunite with me. Of course, he hadn¡¯t known I¡¯d been imprisoned on Salt Island.

    Washing done, I tidied up part of my sewing kit, and mended one of the tears in his much-abused dash jacket. The fire roared, drenching me with blissful heat. But I missed him.

    How Bee would mock me!

    Let her. I had faced worse than her mockery.

    I dressed as warmly as I could and went out. Snowflakes spun on a trickle of wind. With clouds overhead, the air wasn¡¯t nearly as frigid. In summer this shoreline would be marshy and plagued by bugs, but it was breathtaking in the winter evening with the snow shining and the water sparkling with the reflection of the magic he casually unleashed in cascades of bursting rainbows. He was throwing the illusion of light around in gouts of color that fell in waterfalls, spilling from image to image. A magnificent stag lost its antlers to become a horse pulling an elaborate chaise that became a Kena¡¯ani ship with its prow cutting through the waves in the shape of a leaping horse. There was no reason or purpose for it. He was just doing it because he could.

    He walked to meet me.

    ¡°It¡¯s so beautiful, Vai.¡±

    ¡°Mmm,¡± he agreed as he kissed me with unexpectedly warm lips.

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    ¡°I missed you.¡±

    ¡°Of course you did, love.¡± He put an arm around me as we stared south toward an unknown shore. Snow winked where it dissolved into the water. ¡°We need to find a mage House or inn, or we won¡¯t last long in this cold. Even with a fur blanket.¡±

    ¡°I feel like a thief taking the blanket with us. A fine beaver pelt blanket like that costs a year¡¯s wages in Adurnam.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m taking no chances with you and the cold, love. Now go in. You¡¯re shivering.¡±

    We set out at dawn, glad to be moving. It took all morning to row across the sound. The water was so formidably calm that I was able to take several turns at the oars. By sighting on an unusually tall tree, we came in fairly close to straight across from where we had started, working back against a placid current. There we found a pier and cabin very like the one we had just left, except it had a shed for drying fish.

    A path led south through woodland of stunted pine and scrub birch. We stowed the boat and started walking. When a freezing mixture of snow and sleet began to fall on the wings of a stiff east wind, we were forced to turn back and shelter indoors for the rest of the day and night. To be snuggled together with the fur blanket wrapped around us was no hardship, but in winter we could not survive long on love alone.

    Thank Tanit, the next morning dawned clear. We walked all morning. I was hungry, and he actually looked tired, although I was not about to tell him so.

    Instead I talked. ¡°Kofi said you would be the net that Expedition¡¯s radicals threw across the ocean to Europa.¡±

    ¡°If the charter the Assembly is writing in Expedition can be displayed in towns here, that may encourage people to demand that communities should have a say in ruling themselves.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why Kehinde wanted the portable press from Expedition so badly, isn¡¯t it? To escape princely censorship of her pamphlets.¡±

    ¡°Kehinde?¡±

    ¡°Professora Nayo Kuti, the scholar and radical pamphleteer. The prince of Adurnam imposed martial law when the people demanded the right to elect a single tribune to the Adurnam council. If electing a single tribune to represent all the people is too radical for such a prince, imagine what he would say to the idea of an Assembly!¡±

    The trees and ground with their coat of snow sparkled in the sunlight. The sky was so blue it seemed to have no limit, only to fall away forever as into a spirit world where every layer fit inside another layer without ever reaching an end.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the only thing I carried away from Expedition,¡± he said. ¡°In Europa, cold mages have always stood at odds with the blacksmiths who wield dangerous fire. What if cold mages and fire mages could work together, as they do in the Taino kingdom?¡±

    ¡°I thought fire banes were slaves in Taino country.¡±

    He smiled as at a jest I ought to understand. ¡°The situation is more complex than that. In the Antilles those with cold magic are generally so weak and untrained that it¡¯s no wonder they are considered an inferior breed of magister.¡± He indicated the basket. ¡°Even the cacica was startled and impressed by my magic.¡±

    I opened my mouth to joke about how she had been ogling him on Hallows¡¯ Night, but when I considered the contours of his pride and the respect due to her dignity, I decided against it.

    Fortunately he had gone on. ¡°She explained to me how catch-fires work. It is exceptionally dangerous both to the fire mage and to the catch-fire. That is why when a Taino man or woman first blooms with fire magic, a kinsman volunteers to become their catch-fire. To the outside eye it may look like slavery. But it is just the family taking responsibility until the new fire mage learns to properly control the weaving.¡±

    ¡°But I heard of fire banes being sold against their will into the Taino kingdom.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, love. It may be. People also act wrongly at times. But I can¡¯t help but think about how much more we could do in Europa if cold mages worked in harness with fire mages. Not that the mansa would ever listen to me.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, Vai, the prospect of fire mages and fire banes working together alarms me. We¡¯ve seen what James Drake is capable of.¡±

    ¡°Not every person is like James Drake.¡± His breath misted the air before its heat faded.

    ¡°If cold mages and fire mages worked together, then people would fear them more and hate them worse. What would stop magisters from taking over everything? I mean, besides the Wild Hunt? Any magister who learned how to hide from the Hunt in a troll maze would tell every other magister. If mage House magisters hide, then someone else will die. Someone has to die to feed the courts. As some unknown person did when we were in the spirit world. As Queen Anacaona did.¡± I tapped the basket.

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    ¡°People will die regardless.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but we don¡¯t have to accept the things we might change. ¡®Risks must be taken if we mean to get what we want,¡¯ as Brennan Du once said to me.¡±

    ¡°No doubt hoping to impress you so you¡¯d give him a kiss,¡± muttered Vai ungraciously.

    ¡°Not every man admires me just because you do.¡±

    ¡°That is exactly my point, Catherine. As long as clientage remains part of any legal code in Europa, as long as princes and mage Houses can bind entire villages into generations-long servitude, then how can things truly change? Camjiata is the only one with a legal code that will abolish clientage. There is no benefit to the princes and mage Houses to abolish clientage, because they prosper by it.¡±

    The skin of frozen snow crunched satisfyingly beneath my boots as I smashed each step into the ground just as I planned to smash my foes. ¡°Did Camjiata charm you like he charmed Bee? He¡¯s not our friend.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps not, but he is our ally in the fight to abolish clientage. ¡±

    ¡°How can you say so? He shelters Drake. Who, may I remind you, wants to kill you, after you¡¯ve witnessed me being humiliated!¡±

    ¡°I can crush James Drake.¡±

    ¡°Never let it be said that you lack confidence.¡±

    His tone sharpened. ¡°Do you doubt me, Catherine?¡±

    I halted in the middle of the path. ¡°Of course I don¡¯t doubt you! But James Drake nearly burned me alive. The backlash of his magic didn¡¯t pour harmlessly through me as it did through you. Even so, the worst thing was that he meant to kill you, if he could have. When I saw him again, I was so angry and scared that I kept insulting him until he lashed out at me. He would have done something dreadful if the general hadn¡¯t stopped him. I don¡¯t know how to stop myself from provoking him if we see him again.¡±

    He grasped my arms. ¡°That man will never hurt you, Catherine. Never.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right, because I will kill him.¡±

    He was silent for so long I thought he might be displeased by my bloodthirsty rejoinder. At length, with a frown, he spoke.

    ¡°I know you hate your sire, love, and I understand why you do. But don¡¯t forget there is a part of him that gives you strength.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll never truly let go of me,¡± I murmured, shuddering, for an unreasoning fear seized me. What if he could hear and see all I said even here in the mortal world? How could I ever escape, with his claws already in me?

    ¡°James Drake?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one James Drake can¡¯t let go of. He doesn¡¯t really care about me. I meant my sire will never let go of me, never stop hunting me¡­¡±

    Perhaps the wind whispered. Alarm, like a dagger, pricked my neck. I pulled away from Vai to examine the woodland. Flakes of half-forgotten snow drifted among the slender trunks.

    Vai drew cold steel and spun a breath of magic to waken my sword.

    Sometimes the danger that stalks you stays hidden because it comes in plain sight.

    A black wolf trotted down the path toward us, out of the south. When its uncannily golden eyes met mine, I knew it was some manner of kin. The wolf flicked a look over its shoulder and loped into the trees. A chittering bird fell silent. Tremors brushed the soles of my booted feet. A metallic jingle chimed.

    ¡°There¡¯s someone coming,¡± I said. ¡°Horses and men.¡±

    Where the path dipped, curving to the right, nine men came into view. Four riders had spears braced in their stirrups, with bowcases slung from their saddles and primed with arrows. One carried a musket. Five men walked alongside lugging packs and traps. They wore sturdy winter clothing and fur hats. Some had the white skin of northern Celts, while others had mixed coloring. Seeing us, they halted in surprise.

    Vai touched my arm. ¡°Be ready to hit the ground. I will stun them all.¡±

    The man with the musket gave a curt command. The horsemen dismounted, and all knelt submissively. The leader handed his musket to a comrade. With hands open and extended in supplication, he walked forward. He was an older man with a dusky, weathered face and a beard streaked with gray. Something in the shape of his blue eyes and the cut of his cheekbones struck me as familiar, although I had never seen him before.

    Where I had grown up, young people showed respect to their elders by never looking them directly in the eye. Although we were younger than he was, the man kept his gaze lowered subserviently. Twenty paces from us he pulled off his hat to reveal a thick head of dark red hair, veined with white and pulled back into a braid. Ten paces from us he dropped to both knees.

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    ¡°Salve, my lord.¡± He enunciated each word carefully. ¡°Of your presence, we know nothing before we are coming upon you. We would not be displaying our spears in your face if we knew. To us, grant forgiveness, at your pleasure. To our households, your coming brings honor. What do you desire?¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Vai demanded.

    The man glanced up as if to gauge how angry Vai was. In that moment, his gaze skipped to take me in. He ducked his head, hands clenching into fists.

    ¡°My lord, I am of the people called the Belgae. I am Devyn, son of the priest Mad Kirwyn, he who is beloved of Carnonos the god.¡± He studied me. ¡°Your pardon I ask, my lord. How is this beast come to be walking beside you? Have you caught a spirit woman on the ice? She wears the black hair and golden eyes of the hunter. But the face she wears is the face of my dead sister.¡±

    Vai looked from the man to me and back to the man. The shape of Devyn¡¯s face was familiar because it was the same as my own.

    24

    Vai knew he could hammer them into the dirt, and because he knew it, they believed it.

    ¡°I am a magister of rare potency and considerable influence. My wife and I washed ashore north of here under unexpected circumstances. We seek shelter and assistance in continuing our journey south.¡±

    ¡°Your wife?¡± Devyn glanced at me with a puzzled frown. The other men cast surreptitious looks at me. ¡°My lord, if you say so, but no shame is there to a man who is capturing a wild beast to burnish his standing in his House.¡±

    Vai stared down the man until Devyn opened both hands and bent his head. ¡°I expect my wife to be shown the same courtesy as you show to me.¡±

    ¡°Your pardon, my lord. My duty it is, to be escorting you.¡± He spoke to the others in a lilting run of words I could not really understand. To judge from Vai¡¯s look of concentration, he was having a better time picking out meaning from the heavy dialect, and it didn¡¯t appear he liked what they were saying.

    Nevertheless, he handed over the food supplies we had taken from the cabin. In exchange they gave us all four horses, one for our gear. The two groups separated: We and Devyn rode south, while the village men continued north.

    ¡°How can they know you¡¯re a cold mage just by looking at you?¡± I said in a low voice. ¡°It can¡¯t just be your good looks. Not every handsome man is a cold mage.¡±

    ¡°You can be sure I am wondering that myself.¡±

    ¡°Why every handsome man is not a cold mage?¡±

    He smiled but did not take the bait. ¡°We¡¯re fortunate they were headed out to trap.¡±

    ¡°I thought with the horses and bows they might be hunting the wolf.¡±

    ¡°They consider the wolf to be the servant of their god, Carnonos. The god¡¯s servant cannot be hunted. They¡¯re troubled by you.¡±

    ¡°That wolf could be my half-sibling,¡± I muttered. ¡°Blessed Tanit, Vai. Are these my mother¡¯s people?¡± I glanced toward Devyn to find him watching us.

    ¡°The resemblance is remarkable.¡±

    ¡°If this is her village, and the channels we crossed are part of the Baltic Ice Sea, then it makes sense that the expedition she and Daniel were part of used her home as a staging point.¡±

    ¡°An interesting consideration. I will ask.¡±

    But Devyn put off Vai¡¯s questions by insisting only the priest could answer. We rode with little conversation for the rest of the day and well into the evening.

    Night wrapped the world in silence. A full moon bathed the trees and the snow-clad earth in a glamour, painting the world in contrasts: the white shine of birch bark and the heavy branches of dark spruce. I felt like a forgotten ghost drawn back to an unremembered grave. It was so cold. Vai wrapped the fur blanket around me.

    The road brought us to a clearing.

    The moon overhead poured light on a princely hall that sat amid untended shrubbery gone wild. Its arched doorway was staved in as if kicked by a giant. Every window had shattered, and the roof had collapsed. On the lintel above the entrance was carved a crescent moon. Though the manor house rose two stories and had wings flying back on each side, a coat of ice as clear as glass encased the entire building.

    Vai sucked in a breath. The mare, taking his mood, sidestepped skittishly before he brought her back under control.

    Not a single plant had woven its way inside, despite the age of the ruin. The smashed floor revealed the rubble of a hypocaust beneath. Intact corpses were caught and preserved within the ice as if they had been frozen as they tried to escape.

    ¡°Blessed Tanit!¡± I murmured. ¡°Gracious Melqart, protect us. Noble Ba¡¯al, watch over your faithful daughter.¡±

 Page 100

    ¡°The spirit knows this place because she visited here before in her other form.¡± Devyn signed a ward against evil tidings.

    ¡°I am not a ghost or a wolf,¡± I said in a choked voice, but he would not look at me. To look at his face slammed me with the axe blow of memory. As a child, I had looked into a similar face, my mother¡¯s face, as she bent to kiss me. A scar had ripped a lightning-like seam across the right side of her face, and she was missing one eye. The hole gaped like a skull¡¯s socket, a gate onto the pain she had suffered. Yet her expression was serene and loving.

    ¡°Tell no one. Keep silence,¡± she had murmured. ¡°Just until we tell you we¡¯ve reached the safe place we¡¯re traveling to. Sleep, little cat. Your father and I are right here beside you.¡±

    The memory opened a pit inside my heart. There was no safe place.

    ¡°Bad fortune to be here at midnight, haunted by spirits,¡± said Devyn. ¡°Best we ride on.¡±

    Vai did not budge. ¡°This is the mage House that was destroyed by the Wild Hunt. Crescent House, it was called.¡±

    ¡°To this place the Hunt came, it is true, my lord. On Hallows¡¯ Night, they were riding with claws and teeth. Bad fortune it is, my lord, to be lingering. Please let us be moving on.¡± He glanced toward me as if expecting me to turn into claws and teeth, and rend him.

    I hated him for fearing me. The frozen shell of the House was a grave for those trapped within, woman, man, and child. The ice had spared no one.

    ¡°I am Tara Bell¡¯s child!¡± In the muffled night my voice rang like a shout. ¡°That¡¯s why I look like her! I¡¯m your niece!¡±

    He looked at Vai. ¡°I have no niece.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you understand?¡± I cried. ¡°Don¡¯t you see who¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡± Vai¡¯s voice snapped.

    I dragged in a bitter breath, fighting a flood of anger and an ebb of despair. Of course he was right: The last thing I needed to do now was make them more suspicious by informing them that their worst fears about me were true.

    Devyn clipped his horse forward.

    In a softer voice Vai said, ¡°Catherine, I¡¯m tired of the cold, love. I¡¯m exhausted, and I hurt. I need to know you won¡¯t freeze to death. Please, let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    The sight of the ice-caged ruins and trapped corpses had truly shaken me, but it was his effort to disguise the tremor in his voice that made me realize that will alone was carrying him. I rode out of the ghost-ridden clearing, for I knew he would not leave if I did not go.

    As if our movement unleashed it, the moon began its slide westward.

    Soon the road passed pasture walls built of peat. If there were fields awaiting spring planting, I did not recognize them. Everything was strange to me. My moorings had slipped the dock and I had drifted free. I was riding the road my mother and father had traveled. We had just ridden past the estate where Camjiata¡¯s wife, the dragon dreamer Helene Cond¨¦ Vahalis, had been born and raised and had died. The general had been here, too, back in the days when he was merely Captain Leonnorios Aemilius Keita.

    Why had it all happened? How had the four of them met: the ambitious captain, the loyal soldier, the half-blind oracle, and the restless traveler? Was there ever a reason, a destiny, as Camjiata claimed? Or were the Romans right that the goddess Fortuna was veiled and blind and therefore capricious?

    We passed stone walls and winter-seared pasture. Barking dogs gave notice of habitation. Under the brilliant light of the moon rose long houses with peaked thatching, flanked by sheds with sloped roofs. Torchlight flared ahead. As we reached the village, Vai¡¯s magic guttered the torches one by one. The doors leading into the houses opened, and dimly seen faces peered out. Although we didn¡¯t need light on the night of the full moon, Vai extended his right hand in a gesture meant to be dramatic, and pinched four globes of light out of the air. Devyn mumbled a prayer.

    We rode down a dirt street through the center of the village. In spring the main street would be nothing but a strip of sloppy mud. There were no modern chimneys, only smoke holes, and no glass windows set in the wattled walls. To judge by the bleating of sheep, the flocks were being wintered over in the same houses the people lived in. Two thousand years ago a Roman legion pressing forward to find tin, fur, and slaves for trade had probably seen the same sights we did now.

    Had my mother truly come from this barbaric place? How different Daniel must have seemed to her, with his sophisticated education and his years of travel!

    Watchmen paced us through the streets, holding their blackened torches. People slipped out of their homes to follow Vai¡¯s mage light. We halted in front of a substantial house with a high roof. An elderly man dressed in an embroidered wool gown and a calf-length sleeveless leather tunic appeared on the porch. He greeted Vai with incomprehensible words.