“This,” I whispered. “This, and this, and this, I love.”
This was her breasts, grown larger with the babe in her womb, a faint tracery of blue veins showing beneath her translucent skin. I suckled at her breasts, drawing on her rose-pink nipples, never wanting to stop.
This was the sweet juncture of her thighs, between which I was happy to lose myself, coaxing creamy nectar from her cleft. I licked and drank deep of her. Jehanne clung to me, abandoning her arts for raw passion. I reveled in her hands clutching my head, tangling in my hair.
“This!” she said fiercely, tugging me upward. “Yes!”
That, too.
I let her do what she wished, let her take me and have me, surrendering to her insistent fingers probing inside me, her lips and tongue lashing me to new heights, until I arched my back and came so very, very hard for her. And it was good—stone and sea, so good! I wished it would never, ever end.
But it did.
“Moirin.” Her voice was low. “I have to go.”
I struggled to sit upright. “Please, my lady! I don’t want to be alone. Can you not stay this last one night with me?”
“No.” Jehanne gazed at me, a world of sorrow in her blue-grey eyes. “Raphael was right about one thing.”
“What?” I asked.
She kissed me. “It hurts too much to stay.”
I helped her wash and dress, then watched her go. I wanted to beg her to stay, but I didn’t. Jehanne had been fair. She hadn’t begged me not to leave her. Unlikely as it seemed, she’d given me her trust and her passion and her aid unstintingly. I didn’t have any right to make this more difficult for her.
Still, it hurt.
When the door closed behind her, I felt alone and bereft. It was almost a mercy when the profound weariness that Naamah’s blessing had driven away came crashing back upon me. I thought briefly that I should send for a dinner tray, but I was too tired to eat. And I thought with a twinge of guilt that I should have gone to see my father instead of spending long hours wallowing in pleasure, but I pushed the thought away. He would understand better than anyone else. I would see him on the morrow. I damned well wasn’t leaving without saying farewell to him. The Emperor’s daughter in faraway Ch’in had waited many long months. She could wait a few more hours.
I wished I could see my mother, too.
The thought brought tears to my eyes and made me feel sorry for myself. I blew out the lamps, curled up in my lonely bed, and wept myself to sleep.
In the morning, it all seemed unreal. Only a day ago, I’d been preparing to fulfill my oath to Raphael, penning a desperate letter to Jehanne. The misbegotten summoning of Focalor, Claire Fourcay’s death, my near-death… events of such magnitude should have cast a shadow over my life for a long, long time. Instead, my world had been turned upside down.
And unreal as it seemed, there was proof awaiting in the form of a message from Master Lo Feng bidding me to join them at the City’s southern gate at noon. I sent a polite reply saying I would be there as soon as possible and began to get my affairs in order.
There wasn’t that much to be done. Jehanne had given the Palace staff orders to assist me in any way I required. I recruited a maidservant to find traveling trunks and pack my clothing. There wasn’t much else. A few pieces of jewelry, including my mother’s signet ring. Some cosmetics. My bow and quiver, my letters of introduction from Bryony Associates in Bryn Gorrydum.
That seemed a long time ago.
I’d arrived in the City of Elua with little else, a ragtag creature from the backwoods of Alba with a small gift for magic and a purse quickly stolen. I was leaving as the Queen’s royal companion and… what?
Master Lo Feng’s student?
A budding magician of a greater magnitude than I knew?
Or just a useful tool?
I didn’t know; and truth be told, I was too exhausted to wonder. I forced myself to keep moving. I went to the banking house and withdrew a portion of the remaining funds from my letter of credit, reckoning I might need them.
And then I went to the Temple of Naamah.
My father was waiting for me. He already knew. I should have guessed it, knowing the way the City thrived on gossip. The King’s guards had heard me give my answer to Master Lo Feng. They’d kept their silence for a while; I daresay no one wanted to be the one to break the news to Jehanne. But once I’d told her myself, tongues had begun to wag.
“Ah, Moirin, child.” My father held me and let me cry on his shoulder, tears dampening his crimson robe. I’d done the same thing when first I’d met him, overwhelmed by conflicting desires, tangled relationships, and my own folly, alone and friendless in a strange land, distraught by Jehanne’s unkind toying. Even though he was a stranger to me, I’d taken comfort in his embrace.
It was a piece of irony that I wept now because he was dear to me, and Jehanne was dear to me, and I didn’t want to leave.
My father lifted my chin and asked me the same question the King had asked. “You’re sure?”
I got myself under control. “Aye.”
He kissed my brow. “Naamah’s blessing on you, love. I’ll pray for your safety every day and hope for your return.” He paused. “You will return?”
“I don’t know.” My voice was small. “I don’t even know why I’m going. I only know I have to.”
My father shook his head. “They say the gods use their chosen hard. I fear ’tis no less true of your Maghuin Dhonn than any other.”
“It’s all of them,” I murmured. “Naamah and Anael, too.”
He cupped my face and kissed my brow a second time. “Then you must be very dear to them to place such faith in you,” he said firmly. “Whatever your destiny and wherever you’re bound, I’ve no doubt you’ll make me wondrous proud, my very strange daughter.”
It made me feel immeasurably better.
“Thank you.” I hugged him hard. “I’m so glad I found you!”
“So am I.” My father rested his cheek against my hair, then let me go. “You’re bound to leave today? Is there time to explain this tale of summoning dire spirits to me?”
“A little.” I wiped my eyes. “Not much. Will you do me a kindness and send word to my mother in care of Clunderry Castle in Alba, telling her where I’ve gone and why? It may reach her.”
“Of course.” He hesitated again. “What shall I say? What is it that calls you? Your… diadh-anam, is it?”
It leapt inside me like a flame.
“Aye,” I said sadly. “That’s exactly right.”
FIFTY-THREE
Whether I liked it or not, I was sent off with fanfare.
“It’s not necessary,” I said to Jehanne, who had organized a royal escort to the southern gate of the City. “Truly, it’s not.”
“It is.” Her extraordinary beauty couldn’t mask her grief. There were faint violet shadows smudged beneath her eyes. Still, she held her chin high, daring me to defy her. “You’re leaving a maelstrom in your wake. I’ll not have it said that you were banished for your role in yesterday’s doings. And Daniel agrees. So don’t argue.”
I didn’t.
I rode beside them, the King and Queen of Terre d’Ange. My father rode behind me, Prince Thierry at his side. An entourage of guards surrounded us. And the folk of the City turned out to watch, cheering and throwing petals, reveling in the spectacle without caring why, slowing our progress.
We were late. On the far side of the gate, the Ch’in party was waiting, patient and impassive, Bao and Master Lo Feng among them, waiting.
I swallowed hard, dismounted, and said my good-byes.
To Thierry, a better friend to me than I had been to him. He embraced me hard, then turned away to hide his eyes.
To King Daniel, who had been nothing but kind to me.
My father, my lovely father.
Jehanne.
“How, my lady?” I asked her. “How do you find beauty in something that hurts so much?”
“Ah.” She
touched my cheek. “Because it will always be this, Moirin. I’ll always be young and beautiful in your memory, and you in mine. You’ll always be the beautiful witch-girl that I saved from herself and claimed for my own.” Her eyes were bright with tears. “You’ll never grow up and forsake me for another, never be tempted to betray me. And I’ll never grow fickle and restless and seek to replace you.” Jehanne wound her arms around my neck, kissing me. “It will always be this, and this, and this.”
The crowds cheered.
My eyes burned. “Do you love me at least a little?”
“Need you ask?”
I nodded.
Her arms tightened around my neck. “Yes, my beautiful girl. Even though you break my heart. I love you far, far more than you deserve.”
And then there was nothing left to say but good-bye, so I said it. Jehanne took my hand and put something in it, a small, hard object in a silk pouch. She curled my fingers, closing my hand over it.
“So you don’t forget me,” she said.
Despite everything, I laughed. “My lady, I think that would be quite impossible.”
She kissed me one last time. “Good.”
I mounted Blossom and rode slowly through the gate. At a word from Master Lo Feng, guards transferred two trunks of my clothing and my battered satchel onto a waiting supply wagon, Bao supervising. Master Lo Feng looked at my mournful face with compassion.
“Moirin, you need not do this thing for my sake,” he said gently. “If you wish to stay, stay.”
I took a deep breath. “Thank you, Master, but I think I’m meant to go. Forgive me. I don’t mean to disgrace you.”
“You are no disgrace.” He gave a faint smile. “Although I believe General Tsieh and his men are finding Terre d’Ange very peculiar in this moment. None of them ever envisioned a land in which the Queen is allowed a concubine.”
I’d grown more D’Angeline than I knew, for it had ceased to seem strange to me long ago. But glancing around, I saw that the general’s men were blushing and avoiding looking at me. “Is that why they don’t want me here?”
“No.” Master Lo’s expression turned somber. “Outsiders are not welcome in the Celestial Empire. But do not concern yourself. Their hearts will change in time. We have a very long journey before us.”
“I know.” Although the prospect daunted me, I made myself face it. I tucked the object Jehanne had given me away in my purse. “Bao?”
Bao looked up with a questioning glance.
I nodded at the bow and quiver lashed to my satchel. “Will you hand those to me, please?”
He shrugged and obeyed. “You think we get attack by bandit? All these men?”
“No.” I slung the quiver over my shoulder and tested the bowstring. It wanted tending and the skin of my fingertips had grown soft and easily abraded where once it was callused. I had grown soft, pampered and coddled in luxury. “But I think I need to remember that I’m Moirin mac Fainche of the Maghuin Dhonn.”
Bao shrugged again and swung himself into the saddle. “You say so.”
General Tsieh asked a question; Master Lo replied. The general gave an order and our party began to move forward, horses’ hooves clattering, wagon-wheels creaking.
We were going.
I glanced behind me only once. The royal party was still standing in the open gate, watching us go. Jehanne stood close to King Daniel, taking shelter beneath his arm. She had one hand pressed to her belly. I wished I could have stayed long enough to see her child born. Her face looked very pale. My father raised one hand in salute, his crimson robes flickering around him.
I waved once in reply, then turned to face forward.
We rode in silence until the white walls of the City of Elua were only a wan smear in the distance; then Master Lo Feng spoke without preamble.
“Empty yourself of everything,” he said. “Let your mind rest at peace. Ten thousand things rise and fall while the self watches. They grow and flourish and return to the source. Returning to the source is stillness, which is the way of nature. The way of nature is unchanging. Practice your breathing and think upon this, Moirin.”
My heart and mind were too full. “I don’t think I can, Master. Not today.”
Bao snorted.
“Today more than ever.” Master Lo Feng was unperturbed. “Breathe, and let go. Watch.”
I did my best.
At first I just breathed. I breathed the Breath of Earth’s Pulse until I felt it deep in my body, felt it echoed in the slow, staccato beats of Blossom’s hooves beneath me. I breathed Ocean’s Rolling Waves into the pit of my belly, in through my nostrils and out through my mouth. I remembered Jehanne’s mouth on me, my back arching, waves of pleasure surging through my flesh. I tried to let go of the memory.
Ten thousand things rise and fall.
I watched.
I breathed the Breath of Trees Growing, and thought about how all things returned to the source. This air I breathed deep into my lungs fed my body and limbs, fed the blood circulating in them. This air I expelled, the trees and plants drank.
I listened to their songs.
I listened to the faint, scintillant song of the Camaeline snowdrop bulbs nestled in pots in Master Lo’s transport wagons, awaiting my care.
The cycle was eternal.
The cycle was unchanging.
I found a point of stillness I didn’t want to leave.
“Enough.” Master Lo Feng leaned over in the saddle to touch my arm. We were approaching a town and it was late, later than I would have guessed. The sun was dwindling on the horizon. “Fire and Air can wait. You are a good student, Moirin.”
“For a stupid girl,” Bao added.
“Bao!” Master Lo chided him in Ch’in; Bao retorted in aggrieved tones. I wavered in the saddle, wanting only to sleep now. We entered the town and accommodations were arranged. Our escort would camp on the outskirts, while I was to have a room of my own at the inn, as were Master Lo Feng and Bao.
We ate lamb stew spiced with mint in the common room together. It was very good and I was hungrier than I knew. The serving lass kept stealing curious glances at us. To be sure, we made a peculiar trio.
“Why she stare?” Bao complained. “I grow two heads?”
“Maybe she likes you,” I suggested wearily.
“You think?” He looked interested.
“No,” I said. “I think she stares because she’s never seen anything quite like the three of us before.”
His face darkened. “You think no stupid D’Angeline girl can like me?”
“No!” I sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that. Actually…” A memory flashed behind my eyes, and I felt myself flush. I’d pictured Bao’s face when Raphael made love to me the night of the first summoning largely against my wishes. Of course, I’d pictured Jehanne’s too—and the spirit Valac’s. But Bao’s had been the last. “Ah… it might help if you’d stop referring to us as stupid girls.”
Bao looked smug. “Why you turn red? You like me?”
“Not at the moment,” I muttered.
He laughed. “Uh-huh! I save your life. Big hero. You wait, you fall in love. Forget all about the White Queen.”
“Aren’t you some sort of monk in training?” I asked. “I thought you took a vow of celibacy.”
“Vow of what?”
“No…” Unsure of his vocabulary, I made a lewd gesture he’d used long ago.
“No!” Bao’s eyes widened. “Where you get that idea? I am Master Lo’s magpie. No monk.”
“Oh.” I felt foolish.
“Stu—”
“Bao.” Master Lo Feng raised one finger. “In meditation, go deep into the heart. In dealing with others, be gentle and kind. In speech, be true.”
“Yes, Master.” He accepted the reprimand. “D’Angeline people too proud for they own good,” he said eventually. “They think they better than everyone. They not see Master Lo is great man. I think is stupid. Maybe you not so much that way. You make some stupid c
hoices, though, and say some stupid things. But maybe you not so stupid, really.”
“You’re too kind,” I commented.
He shrugged. “True or not?”
“True,” I said ruefully. “But if you’d care to be gentle and kind, I’d thank you for not making me think this was one of my more stupid choices.” I extended my hand across the table to him. “Can we not agree to be friends for the duration of this journey?”
“Friends.” Bao echoed the word, looking dubious.
I nodded.
“All right, sure.” Bao clasped my hand, his grip strong, sinewy, and callused. He frowned briefly at our clasped hands, then looked unexpectedly cheerful, grinning at me. “Until you fall crazy in love with me, not-so-stupid girl.”
I laughed. “We’ll see.”
It lightened my heart a little, and Master Lo Feng seemed to approve. But alone in my bedchamber, I felt the weight and enormity of the decision I’d made come back to rest on my shoulders. My chamber was stark and barren. For the first time in a long while, I felt restless and confined behind walls of man-made stone.
I missed my enchanted bower.
I missed Jehanne.
I fished her gift out of my purse and opened the silk pouch to find a small, stoppered bottle of cut crystal. I laughed softly to myself and pulled out the stopper. The scent of Jehanne’s intoxicating perfume filled the air. It wasn’t the same as when she wore it—but it was still nice, so nice.
I tilted the bottle and wetted one fingertip, then touched it to the hollow of my throat. There, the scent breathed outward, whispering of night-blooming flowers and a pale, delicate marque limned on pale skin. I stoppered the bottle carefully and returned it to its pouch, tucking it back into my purse before I disrobed and lay down for the night.
At peace, I slept.
FIFTY-FOUR
Some days later, we reached Marsilikos.
It was a large, sprawling harbor city dominated by a palace with a golden dome, so big it loomed almost like a second sun. I have to own, I gaped at it. None of the Ch’in folk seemed overly impressed. When we drew in sight of the harbor, I saw why.
Kushiel 03 - [Moirin 01] - Naamah's Kiss Page 41