against Kadakithis, and sought to use Hanse (and succeeded), and who was dead
for her crime, and her pretty face gone with her. It disappeared now, to become
the piquant features of the royal concubine who had been unlucky enough to be
present the night he stole the Savankh from the Prince-Governor’s own
bedchamber. When last Hanse had seen this one she was bound as he’d left her. He
could not even remember her na-oh. Taya. No matter. She was becoming someone
else.
“Uh!”
That gasp was elicited by Taya’s vanishing to be replaced by … Moonflower!
Aye, Moonflower, earrings, chins and all!
“No thank you,” Hanse was able to say, and felt better for it.
Far more shocking was the next visage, one he recognized after a few moments of
gaping. The woman he had seen murdered for her terror rod out by Fanner’s
Market, less than two months ago! Before he could protest, she had flickered
away after the others, and Hanse swallowed. Now he gazed close upon a face he
knew and had always wished could be closer. She was the smiling and truly
beautiful daughter of Venerable Shafralain. Esaria her name, a girl of seventeen
or eighteen-the Lady Esaria! A beauty he had watched and about whom he had
entertained phantasies rather more than once or thrice.
“You know,” Hanse blurted, with more breath than voice. “You bring out these
faces from my own memory!”
Already Esaria was becoming Mignureal, sweet-faced Mignureal, who gazed serenely
at him-and spoke.
“You are invited to dinner tomorrow night. You will be in no danger. Wear this