She touched the sphere gingerly with her fingertip. It was wet. Taking a deep breath, she put her hand through the surface.

It froze her fast; she could not proceed, she could not escape, she could not move. Even her voice was captured.

After a moment Lythande surfaced. Her hair sparkled with drops of water, but her clothes were dry. She stood frowning at Wess, lines of thought bracketing the star on her forehead. Then her brow cleared and she grasped Wess's wrist.

'Don't fight it, little sister,' she said. 'Don't fight me.'

The blue star glittered in the darkness, its points sparking with new light. Against great resistance, Lythande drew Wess's hand from the sphere. The cuff of Wess's shirt was cold and sodden. In only a few seconds the water had wrinkled her fingers. The sphere freed her suddenly and she nearly fell, but Lythande caught and supported her.

'What happened?'

Still holding her up, Lythande reached into the water and drew it aside like a curtain. She urged Wess towards the division. Unwillingly, Wess took a shaky step forward, and Lythande helped her inside. The surface closed behind them. Lythande eased Wess down on the platform that flowed out smoothly from the inside curve. Wess expected it to be wet, but it was resilient and smooth and slightly warm.

'What happened?' she asked again.

'The sphere is a protection against other sorcerers.'

'I'm not a sorcerer.'

'I believe you believe that. If I thought you were deceiving me, I would kill you. But if you are not a sorcerer, it is only because you are not trained.'

Wess started to protest, but Lythande waved her to silence.

'Now I understand how you eluded me in the streets.'

'I'm a hunter,' Wess said irritably. 'What good would a hunter be, who couldn't move silently and fast?'

'No, it was more than that. I put a mark on you, and you threw it off. No one has ever done that before.'

'I didn't do it, either.'

'Let us not argue, frejojan. There isn't time.'

She inspected the cut, then dipped her hand into the side of the sphere, brought out a handful of water, and washed away the sticky drying blood. Her touch was warm and soothing, as expert as Quartz's.

'Why did you bring me here?'

'So we could talk unobserved.'

'What about?'

'I want to ask you something first. Why did you think I was a woman?'

Wess frowned and gazed into the depths of the floor. Her boot dimpled the surface, like the foot of a water-strider.

'Because you are a woman,' she said. 'Why you pretend you are not, I don't know.'

'That is not the question,' Lythande said. 'The question is why you called me "sister" the moment you saw me. No one, sorcerer. or otherwise, has ever glanced at me once and known me for what I am. You could place me, and yourself, in great danger. How did you know?'

'I just knew,' Wess said. 'It was obvious. I didn't look at you and wonder if you were a man or a woman. I saw you, and I thought, how beautiful, how elegant she is. She looks wise. She looks like she could help us. So I called to you.'

'And what did your friends think?'

'They ... I don't know what Quartz and Aerie thought. Chan asked whatever was I thinking of.'

'What did you say to him?'

'I ...' She hesitated, feeling ashamed. 'I lied to him,' she said miserably. 'I said I was tired and it was dark and smoky, and I made a foolish mistake.'

'Why didn't you try to persuade him you were right?'

'Because it isn't my business to deny what you wish known about yourself. Even to my oldest friend, my first lover.'

Lythande stared up at the curved surface of the inside of the sphere. The tension eased in the set of her shoulders, the expression on her face.

'Thank you, little sister,' she said, her voice full of relief. 'I did not know if my identity were safe with you. But I think it is.'

Wess looked up suddenly, chilled by insight. 'You brought me here - you would have killed me!'

'If I had to,' Lythande said easily. 'I am glad it was not necessary. But I could not trust a promise made under threat. You do not fear me; you made your decision of your own free will.'

'That may be true,' Wess said. 'But it isn't true that I don't fear you.'

Lythande gazed at her. 'Perhaps I deserve your fear. Westerly. You could destroy me with a thoughtless word. But the knowledge you have could destroy you. Some people would go to great lengths to discover what you know.'

'I'm not going to tell them.'

'If they suspected - they might force you.'

'I can take care of myself,' Wess said.

Lythande rubbed the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger. 'Ah, sister, I hope so. I can give you very little protection.' She - he, Wess reminded herself- stood up. 'It's time to go. It's nearly dawn.'

'You asked questions of me - may I ask one of you?'

'I'll answer if I can.'

'Bauchle Meyne - if he hadn't behaved so stupidly, he could have killed me. But he taunted me till I recovered myself. He made himself vulnerable to me. His friend knew I had a knife, but he attacked me unarmed. I've been trying to understand what happened, but it makes no sense.'

Lythande drew a deep breath. 'Westerly,' she said, 'I wish you had never come to Sanctuary. You escaped for the same reason that I first chose to appear as I now must remain.'

'I still don't understand.'

'They never expected you to fight. To struggle a little, perhaps, just enough to excite them. They expected you to acquiesce to their wishes whether it was to beat you, to rape you, or to kill you. Women in Sanctuary are not trained to fight. They are taught that their only power lies in their ability to please, in bed and in flattery. Some few excel. Most survive.'

'And the rest?'

"The rest are killed for their insolence. Or-' She smiled bitterly and gestured to herself. 'Some few ... find their talents are stronger in other areas.'

'But why do you put up with it?'

'That is the way it is. Westerly. Some would say that is the way it must be that it is ordained.'

'It isn't that way in Kaimas.' Just speaking the name of her home made her want to return. 'Who ordains it?'

'Why, my dear,' Lythande said sardonically, 'the gods.'

'Then you should rid yourselves of gods.'

Lythande arched one eyebrow. 'You should, perhaps, keep such ideas to yourself in Sanctuary. The gods' priests are powerful.' She drew her hand up the side of the sphere so it parted as if she had slit it with a knife, and held the skin apart so Wess could leave.

Wess thought the shaky uncertain feeling that gripped her would disappear when she had solid ground beneath her feet again.

But it did not.

Wess and Lythande returned to the Unicorn in silence. As the Maze woke, the street began to fill with laden carts drawn by scrawny ponies, with beggars and hawkers and pickpockets. Wess bought fruit and meat rolls to take to her friends.

The Unicorn was closed and dark. As the tavern-keeper had said, he did not open early. Wess went around to the back, but at the steps of the lodging door, Lythande stopped.

'I must leave you, frejojan.'

Wess turned back in surprise. 'But I thought you were coming upstairs with me for breakfast, to talk ..."

Lythande shook his head. His smile was odd, not, as Wess had come to expect, sardonic, but sad. 'I wish I could, little sister. For once, I wish I could. I have business to the north that cannot wait.'

'To the north! Why did you come this way with me?' She had got her bearings on the way back, and while the twisted streets would not permit a straight path, they had proceeded generally southward.