“Do not even think it!” She tapped my lips in reproach. “I could never have done this if I did not care for you, Moirin. Never.”

“I know.” I caught her hand and kissed that, too. “I know the difference between kindness and genuine desire, my lady. And I am very, very grateful.”

“Yes, I know,” Amrita said humorously. “You do not need to demonstrate it again. I am a little worn out by your gratitude.” She fell silent, thinking. Sensing her mood shift, I kept my own silence. “I think perhaps Jagrati may have said more than one true thing,” she said presently. “What she said about the way the world treats those unfortunate ones born outside of a caste… they were harsh words, but they have stayed with me.” She glanced at me. “I have not forgotten what you said about ambitious men attempting to shape the gods to serve their own ends. And I do not think you would disagree with what Jagrati said to me.”

“No,” I murmured. “I don’t. But that does not give her the right to become a monster, treating the lives of others as playthings to be stolen or destroyed.”

“No, but it tells us something about how the monster was made,” Amrita said. “And perhaps we must take some responsibility for it.” She frowned a little. “There was a sadhu in Galanka when I was a girl, a holy man who had renounced all things of the world, who refused to shun the untouchables. I wonder if he is still there, and if there are others like him.”

“Yeshua ben Yosef went among folk you would reckon unclean and tended to them,” I offered. It was one of the things Aleksei had taught me. “Lepers, beggars.”

“So did your D’Angeline gods when they passed through Bhodistan. I remember my father discussing it with an ambassador, for he sent me away when he caught me listening.” She sat upright and began winding her hair into a knot. “I have been thinking, trying to make sense of our failure, Moirin. Five men slain, and for nothing! I was certain that the gods sent you to me for a reason-”

“So was I, my lady,” I said. “And I am so very sorry-”

“Hush.” Amrita touched my lips again, gently this time. “Let me finish, young goddess. I was also certain that I knew the reason, that it was to rid the world of the Falconer and his Spider Queen. But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps that was not it at all, and Jagrati’s harsh words were part of the message I was meant to hear. What do you think?”

I gazed at her beautiful face, my heart feeling very full. “My lady Amrita, I cannot say. I only know for sure that if I were a Bhodistani god with a message of compassion to deliver, I could choose no one better in the world than you to hear it. However…” I glanced toward the balcony, and saw that it was fully dark outside. “There is still the matter of the Falconer’s assassins, and I think it would be best if you went to the hidden room now, and we talk more in the morning.”

“You will be all right?” she inquired.

I nodded. “I have Ravindra’s bells to warn me, and the twilight to protect me.”

“Very well, then.” Amrita smiled. “I hope your sleep is peaceful.”

I smiled back at her. “I daresay it will be.”

For a mercy, it was. After I had helped Amrita dress and seen her safely into the custody of her guardsmen, I returned to my bed, which smelled of flowers, spices, and love-making. The bright lady was pleased, and so was I. I didn’t think Amrita understood how great a gift she had given me. It wasn’t just that she had quenched the fire of yearning that Kamadeva’s diamond had ignited in me. I was Naamah’s child, and I needed love and aye, pleasure, almost as much as food and water.

Until tonight, I hadn’t known how starved I was.

Tomorrow, I thought, I would consult my diadh-anam and pray to every god I knew that I could figure out what to do about Bao, the bedamned Jagrati, and Kamadeva’s bedamned diamond.

Tonight, I would sleep and be grateful for the profound gift I had been given.

And so I did, deep and dreamless, wrapped in the lingering grace of Naamah’s approval… until I awoke in the small hours of the night with my diadh-anam blazing like wildfire, and a shadowy figure in the bedchamber with me, the length of a staff strapped across its back.

I sat up and stared. “Bao?”

SIXTY-FOUR

Shh!” In the space of a heartbeat, the shadowy figure crossed the room and fell upon me, pinning me to the bed and clamping one callused hand over my mouth, setting the point of a dagger at my throat.

Bao.

It was Bao.

I stared up at him, scared and bewildered. I should have known. I should have felt him coming; but my awareness had been too entangled, first by Kamadeva’s diamond, then by Amrita’s loving kindness and Naamah’s grace.

“I need to know!” Bao hissed at me, his eyes wild and shimmering, his expression desperate. “Who are you? What are you? Why are you here?” He prodded the hollow of my throat with the tip of his dagger. “What happened to Moirin?”

I tried to reply, but his hand muffled my words.

Realizing it, he frowned. “Promise you won’t scream?” The dagger prodded me again in warning.

I nodded.

Bao removed his hand from my mouth. “Tell me.”

I took a deep breath, and then another. “Gods bedamned, Bao!” I hissed back at him. “It’s me! And if you will not believe the proof of your eyes and the proof of my diadh-anam inside you, I do not know what else to say! I’ve spent the last year of my life following you halfway around the world, while you’ve been marrying Tatar princesses whose fathers betrayed us both, and falling under the spell of the bedamned Spider Queen, and do you know what? I’m very, very tired of it, you stupid, stubborn boy!”

He blinked. “Moirin?”

“Yes!”

Bao stood, swaying a little. “How…?”

I sat up and kindled a lamp. “I told you, it was the Vralian priests. They had chains that bound my magic. It took me a long time to escape.”

His throat worked. “I thought…”

“I know,” I said softly. “But it was a lie. It was always a lie. I’m here. It’s me. Do you understand?”

“Uh-huh.” Bao glanced around, still swaying; and I realized there was something wrong with him beyond the influence of Kamadeva’s diamond. He blinked at me again. “Moirin, why does it smell of sex in here?”

And then he collapsed, sparing me the need for a reply.

Much of what passed immediately afterward is blurred in my memory. I know I went to the door of my bedchamber, rattling Ravindra’s warning bells and summoning guards. The palace roused quickly, already on high alert. A pair of guards shifted Bao from the floor of my chamber into my bed.

He was weak, sweating, and racked with tremors.

Nonetheless, Hasan Dar insisted on questioning him. “Did you come as one of Tarik Khaga’s assassins?” he asked in a hard voice. “Did you come to kill her highness the Rani Amrita Sukhyhim?”

“No.” Bao shook his head, lolling it from side to side. “No, I said I would, but it was a lie. I do not wish your Rani or anyone else dead. I only wanted to find out about Moirin.”

“How did you gain entrance to the palace and Lady Moirin’s chambers?” Hasan Dar demanded.

“Vaulted the wall.” Bao made a listless gesture in the direction of my balcony. “Climbed a tree in the garden, tied a rope, swung, and jumped there.”

“He trained as an acrobat for many years,” I murmured.

Bao nodded, closing his eyes and shuddering. It must have taken almost all of his flagging strength to accomplish the feat.

I could feel his diadh-anam inside him, and it was stronger and clearer than it had been, calling to mine. Whatever ailed him, it was an affliction of the body, not the spirit. I felt at his brow. Despite the sheen of sweat, his skin didn’t feel fever-hot. “Are you ill?” I asked him. “Is it the mountain-sickness?”