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What?
I ve felt it in the council chamber. You meet my eyes with your pale moon eyes. You draw at me.
Calyx is very beautiful, but she is day, and you arc night, secret, beautiful, mysterious, perhaps
dangerous. Are you dangerous at night?
Nyx gazed at him, a mushroom halted midway to her mouth. What in Moro s name are you talking
about?
His smile never faltered. I believe I make myself clear. I am falling a little in love with you.
Oh, don t be ridiculous. She bit into the mushroom, added, chewing, Love is the last thing on your
mind.
He was silent, looking down at her so long that she wondered if she had left mushroom in some unsightly
place. It s a game, he said lightly. You should learn to play it. It gives the world grace.
He slid the glass from her hand, took a sip of wine, and slipped it back between her fingers. She said
softly, And how well you play it. You must practice often.
I ll teach you.
Unfortunately, I lack grace. She set the glass on the table and stood quietly, not moving or speaking,
simply looking at him until his smile finally faltered and he turned away.
She picked up the glass again, took a hefty swallow. Someone else stepped to her side and marvelled,
You made Urbin Dacey blush.
She lowered the glass with some relief. Rush.
He brushed a crumb off her sleeve. It takes a complex sorcery to discomfit Urbin. He won t give up
easily, though. I ve seen him watching you. He plays a game he hates to lose.
I have no time for games, she said, feeling the weight of the key in her pocket- Rush looked at her
silently a moment; she glimpsed a familiar curiosity in his eyes and wondered what realm she had
neglected to explore- He asked the question in his eyes.
Does sorcery preclude love?
I wouldn t know. It s not in Chrysom s books.
Is that all you he began, then saw he was being teased. He smiled a little, still curious, while she
helped herself to a plate of tiny biscuits rolled in poppy seeds and spices. She said, because he wanted to
know, I take after my mother, who roamed Ro Holding when she was young and found three fathers for
three daughters. Sorcery does not preclude curiosity, and I have satisfied my curiosity at times. But
With whom?
Like her mother, she ignored the question. But you have to stand still for love. I could never stand still.
Like Urbin, he said, then flushed a little. But she mulled that over calmly.
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Maybe. But at least I m honest.
Yes, he said, not looking at her, but she saw the memories in his eyes. Urbin has a thousand ways of
saying one thing. You don t hide behind language, which is why he can t find, among his thousand ways.
the one way to make you listen. Neither could I, he added, but lightly, and she smiled, seeing no
bitterness in his eyes.
Now, she said, we listen to one another. She touched his arm and turned, to find Arlen Hunter in her
path, who had come to tell her what he believed about her, and what he didn t, feeling it was important
for her to know. She extracted herself abruptly from his muddle of awe and prurience, deciding that no
effort to please her mother was worth becoming civilized for this. She slipped away to wait for moonrise.
Across the hall, Meguet, disarmed, dressed in red silk and gold, found siege laid against her own
patience. Tur Hunter, blue-eyed, golden-haired, heir to Hunter Hold, had lost, he said, his heart to her
green eyes. He was smiling, but relentless, burning hot and cold, and willing to fight a slight to his pride.
She said carefully, My own heart is bound to this house; my eyes are not free to stray.
Not from the gate? he said, his smile thinning, and she felt the blood rise in her face. Your whims are
your business, but you should have some respect for your own heritage. What in Moro s name can you
do with a Gatekeeper?
Love him, she said simply, with no tact whatsoever. Tur Hunter snorted, flushing.
What will you do? Marry him and live among the cottagers?
She shrugged slightly. I hadn t thought. If past is status, some among the cottagers can trace their
families back a thousand years, when Moro Ro s status in Ro Holding was that he had a bigger cottage
than anyone else and a bloodier sword.
And what does your Gatekeeper have? he retorted. Born among tortoises and river rats, he still has
the swamp in his voice. You ll tire of that soon enough.
Then, she said, keeping her voice steady with an effort, it is not worth your breath to interfere, since I
will cast him aside eventually over the cadence of lilies and slow dark water and small birds in his voice.
Tur was silent a breath, then changed weapons. Now, he said solicitously, and took her hand in his, I
have put you in the position of having to defend him. I have made you angry. That was hardly my
intention. If the Holder hasn t interfered in your infatuation with the murkier side of the Delta, it must be
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