harbor and the ministerings of Ilsigi servants, this perfect, golden lord-she
felt him straining at the spell of silence she wove, saw him try to shift his
eyes away. But he was at once too arrogant to clutch the covers to him like a
frightened stableboy and far too arrogant to be caught in the situation he was
in. She let the spell go.
“It’s supposed to be an outraged husband,” he said, from his disadvantage.
She smiled. For a moment the black edges cleared back from her mind. /’// walk
out, she thought. There’s more to him than I thought. I could even like this
man. But the power strained at her fingers, at her temples, the soles of her
feet and ran in red tides in her gut. She felt Strat’s attention, somewhere,
felt the essence of him trying to get at her, to tear at her and wound like
something gnawing its own flesh to get at the iron that ringed it; Strat would
find her, he would kill himself finding her and that, for her, was her wound.
She could walk out and find another victim, find anyone else, anywhere, stave
off the hunger an hour, a day, another few days….
Tasfalen patted the sheets beside him. “We might discuss the matter,” he said
with his own arrogant humor. And tipped the balance and sealed his fate.
She walked in, and smiled in a different, darker way. Tas-falen stared at her,
the humor dying from his face, eyes quite fixed on hers in a mesmeric
fascination. His lust became evident.
Hers was uncontrollable.
Pavings tore Moria’s bare feet, a dozen passersby stared in shock, and Moria