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  "Sister priestess," I said. "I am Phèdre nó Delaunay de Montrève, and this is my consort, Joscelin Verreuil. Might we speak with Brother Selbert?”

  The acolyte, who had lain her cheek alongside my mare's, glanced up with a start. "Oh! Oh yes, of course. " She smiled. "He is expecting you, I think. At least he is expecting someone. If you will dismount, I will see to your horses, and he will meet you in the sanctuary proper . . . oh! And the mules, of course. You have brought us . . . what have you brought? Lentils, I think, and salted anchovies, ah! Thank you, thank you, my lady. "

  I watched her move among the animals and explore the mules' panniers as I dismounted. There was an old scar at her temple, a dented crescent, faded with age. "Is there someplace where we may wash the dust of our journey from our faces, Sister?"

  "Oh!" She startled again, and laughed. "He has told me, again and again, and still I forget. 'Liliane, offer them water!' " Her eyes were as wide and guileless as a child's, and I understood, then, that she was a touch simple. "Yes, my lady, there is a cistern, there," she said, pointing. "And I am not a priestess yet. Only Liliane. "

  "Thank you, Liliane. "

  "You are welcome!" She beamed at us both, then added carefully, "And I will take good care of them, I promise. Your horses and the mules. "

  I didn't doubt it, for as she set off blithely across the courtyard toward the stables, our mounts and pack-animals fell in behind her unbidden, a string of tall beasts following nose-to-tail behind the bare foot young woman in rough-spun robes.

  Joscelin blinked. "Now there," he said, "is one truly touched by Blessed Elua. "

  The water in the cistern was bracingly cold and refreshing. We both drank deep from the dipper, then splashed it over our hands and faces. It was a narrow, arched passageway that led to the Sanctuary of Elua, cool and dark, opening onto the splendid vista we had glimpsed from above.

  No longer small with distance, the statue of Blessed Elua stood alone in the field, tall and towering beneath the immense blue sky. His arms were outstretched, and bright poppies lapped at his granite feet. Stoop ing, I unfastened the buckles on my fine riding boots and unrolled my stockings. The soil was dry and crumbling beneath my bare feet.

  "We have nothing to offer," I murmured to Joscelin.

  He placed his own boots in the rack at the entryway. "We have ourselves. "

  There is a stillness that comes upon one in sacred places. Hand in hand, we crossed the field of wild poppies, crushing sweet grass and pale green leaves beneath our tread. Elua smiled in welcome as we entered his long shadow, a smile as sweet and guileless as his acolyte's. His left palm, extended in offering, bore the deep gash of Cassiel's dagger. It had been his answer to the One God's arch-herald, who bade him take his place in Heaven. Elua had smiled then, too, and borrowed Cassiel's dagger. Scoring his palm, he let his blood fall in scarlet drops, and anemones blossomed where it fell. My grandfather's Heaven is blood less: and I am not. Let him offer a better place, where we may love and sing and grow as we are wont, where our children and our children's children may join us, and I will go. I knelt at the base of the statue with a wordless prayer, my skirts spilling in billows over the twining foliage, the petals of crimson satin with their velvet-black stamens, vivid as the mote in my eye. Bowing my head, I pressed my lips against the sun-warmed granite of Blessed Elua's feet.

  "Phèdre nó Delaunay. "

  It was a man's voice that spoke my name, gentle as a breeze. Rising, I turned and saw him, Elua's priest, clad in blue robes the color of the summer sky, with the handsome, austere features of Siovale. His eyes, like the leaves of the poppies, were a pale silvery-green, and his light brown hair fell down his back in a single cabled braid.

  "Brother Selbert," I acknowledged him.

  "Yes. " He smiled. "I have been expecting you. "

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Joscelin rise from his own obei sance, bowing in the Cassiline manner, crossed hands hovering over the hilts of his daggers. "Me, my lord?" I asked the priest. "How is it so?"

  "You," he said. "Or someone. You are not the first. " He cocked his head, and I heard in the distance the sound of shepherd's pipes calling and answering across the far crags. "Did the Queen send you?"

  Beneath the shadow of Blessed Elua, I gazed at him, a solitary figure drenched in sunlight. "Whose emissary do you think I am, my lord priest?"

  "Ah. " Brother Selbert exchanged an enigmatic smile with the effigy of Elua. "As to that, I suppose you are Kushiel's. Come. " He extended his hand. "We must speak. "

  So it was that Joscelin and I followed the priest across the field, as obediently as our animals had followed the girl Liliane. At the entryway, we paused to don our boots. Brother Selbert waited, patient and calm. Like the other members of his order, he went unshod, and his bare feet were calloused and cracked, engrained with the dust of a thousand journeys.

  "Come," he said again when we were done.

  We followed the priest into his private quarters, where he bade us sit.

  "You are here about the boy," he said when we had done so.

  I opened my mouth to reply, but it was Joscelin who spoke first, giving voice to his long-held anger. "How could you do it?" he de manded. "How could you betray the realm to aid, that. . . that woman?"

  "Melisande. " Brother Selbert spoke her name calmly, tilting his head. "Melisande Shahrizai de la Courcel. " He smiled in reminiscence. "Why does it offend you, young Cassiline?"

  "Yes. " The priest held up one hand, forestalling his argument. "These things she has done, Joscelin Verreuil. And not a one of them would have been possible had it not been for the greed, the fear, the unreasoning hatred, the hunger for vengeance, on the part of her conspirators. "

  The meaning of his words brushed me like the tip of a fearsome wing, and I shuddered. "You say she has not violated the precept of Blessed Elua. "

  "Yes. " Brother Selbert bent his head to me. "Love as thou wilt. For good or for ill, Melisande Shahrizai alone has laid her plans out of love of the game itself. "

  "But," I whispered, "they are dire. "

  "They are. " The priest nodded gently. "Such is not my place to judge; only the intent. " There was a look in his silver-green eyes such as I had seen in Michel Nevers' in Kushiel's temple—a terrible com passion. "Thus are the gifts of Kushiel's scions, to see the fault-lines in another's soul. I can do naught, if it is exercised in love. "

  I swallowed. "Even love without compassion?"

  "Even that. " There were oceans of sorrow in Brother Selbert's voice. "I can but feed the spark where I see it. And I saw it, in the Lady Melisande's regard for her child. ”

  "You lied to the Queen!" Joscelin protested in anguish.

  "Yes, of course. " The priest gave him a quizzical look. "The Queen sought to claim the child for her own ends. The ends are admirable, young Cassiline, and they are rooted in her love of the realm, her desire for peace. But they do not supercede the love of a mother for her child. The Queen did not know the child. He was the Lady Melisande's son. No matter what she had done, Elua's dictum made my choice clear. "

  "Elua's dictum. " I pressed my temples. "Brother Selbert, you know it was Melisande's intent that the boy should be sheltered here, until he reached such an age where she might unveil his identity like some hero out of legend, staking his claim to the throne?"

  "It was her intent. " His eyes glinted the color of sunlight on the poppy-leaves. "He might have surprised her, in the end. "

  "He might have," I said, making my voice hard. "If he had not vanished. Thanks to your interpretation of Elua's dictum. "

  "Ah. " Brother Selbert sighed. "And so we come to it. " He spread his hands helplessly, his expression turning somber. "What can I tell you, my lady Phèdre? Even now, though I am racked by guilt and second-guessing, I believe I chose aright. If I were a vain man, I might think Blessed Elua mocked me for my pride—but Elua is not so cruel as to use a child
to lesson his priests. Yet Imriel is gone, and I, I am left without answers. "

  I considered him. "You said we were not the first. Tell me about Melisande's emissaries. "

  "There were two men who came, bearing her token. " He laced his fingers about one knee. "It was after I had gone to La Serenissima to bring her the unhappy news. They pretended to be from Eisande, though I do not think it was true. It is politics, that, and nothing to do with Elua. I will give you a description, if you wish, and the names they gave, although I think those too were false. "

  "Yes, thank you. They conducted a search?"

  "They questioned me, and every other member of the sanctuary. And they searched the mountains, where it happened. " Brother Selbert glanced toward the window. "I believe they searched in outlying towns as well, and questioned villagers. " He shook his head. "We did as much and more. We combed the crags for days. Every cave, every cleft. . . I saw to it myself, and we gave her emissaries every aid during the duration of their search. " His voice changed, a tone of ragged grief bleeding through his calm demeanor. "I pray you, do not mistake me, my lady Phèdre! If there were a way, any way—I would give my life in an instant if it meant Imri's safe return. When all is said and done, I do not believe even Melisande Shahrizai questioned my sincerity. "

  "No," I said absently. "She didn't. Your discretion is another mat ter. "

  "No one knew. " The priest lifted his hands, let them fall back into his lap. "I cannot prove it, not now. They did not question it, when I took the boy to La Serenissima before; I let them believe we went elsewhere. After his disappearance . . . some guessed. "

  "You . . . " I paused. "You took the boy to La Serenissima?"