alive with her, who loved life the more for having only just begun it, and yet
could not succumb to mortal death or be placed in mortal danger by his curse,
his strength, or whatever he might do.
The high moon had laved them and her legs had embraced him and her red-glowing
eyes like her father’s had transfixed him while her cool flesh enflamed him.
Yes, with Jihan beside him, he’d swallow his pride and his pique and give even
Sanctuary’s Kadaki-this the benefit of the doubt – he’d stay though his heart
tugged him northward, although he’d thought, when he took her to their creekbed
bower, to chase her away.
When they’d slipped into his barracks quarters from the back, he was no longer
so certain. He heard from a lieutenant all about the waterspouts and whirlpools,
thinking while the man talked that this was his godsign, however obscure its
meaning, and then he regretted having made an accommodation with the Froth
Daughter: all his angst came back upon him, and he wished he’d hugged his
resolve firmly to his breast and driven Jihan hence.
But when the disturbance at the outer gates penetrated to the slaver’s old
apartments which he had made his own, rousting them out to seek its cause, he
was glad enough she’d remained.
The two of them had to shoulder their way through the gathered crowd of
Stepsons, astir with bitter mutters; no one made way for them; none had come to
their commander’s billet with news of what had been brought up to the gatehouse
in the dawn.
He heard a harsh whisper from a Stepson too angry to be careful, wondering if