staggered past her, Idaan felt the insult and the rejection and a
certain relief that she hadn't had to find an excuse to slip away.
The palaces were deserted, the empty paths dreamlike in their own way.
Idaan let herself imagine that she had woken into a new, different
world. As she slept, everyone had vanished, and she was walking now
alone through an empty city. Or she had died in her sleep and the gods
had put her here, into a world with nothing but herself and darkness. If
they had meant it for punishment, they had misjudged.
The bottle was below a quarter when she stepped under the canopy of
sculpted oaks. She had expected the poet's house to he dark as well, but
as she advanced, she caught glimpses of candle glow, more light than a
single night candle could account for. Something like hope surged in
her, and she slowly walked forward. The shutters and door were open, the
lanterns within all lit. But the wide, still figure on the steps wasn't
him. Idaan hesitated. The andat raised its hand in greeting and motioned
her closer.
"I was starting to think you wouldn't come," Stone-Made-Soft said in its
distant, rumbling voice.
"I hadn't intended to," Idaan said. "You had no call to expect me."
"If you say so," it agreed, amiably. "Come inside. He's been waiting to
see you for days."
Going up the steps felt like walking downhill, the pull to be there and
see him was more powerful than weight. The andat stood and followed her
in, closing the door behind her and then proceeding around the room,
fastening the shutters and snuffing the flames. Idaan looked around the
room, but there were only the two of them.
"It's late. He's in the back," the andat said and pinched out another
small light. "You should go to him."
"I don't want to disturb him."
"He'd want you to."
She didn't move. The spirit tilted its broad head and smiled.
"He said he loves me," Idaan said. "When I saw him last, he said that he
loved me."
"I know."
"Is it true?"
The smile broadened. Its teeth were white as marble and perfectly
regular. She noticed for the first time that it had no canines-every
tooth was even and square as the one beside it. For a moment, the
inhuman mouth disturbed her.
"Why are you asking me?"
"You know him," she said. "You are him."
"True on both counts," Stone-Made-Soft said. "But I'm not credited as
being the most honest source. I'm his creature, after all. And all dogs
hate the leash, however well they pretend otherwise."
"You've never lied to me."
The andat looked startled, then chuckled with a sound like a boulder
rolling downhill.
"No," it said. "I haven't, have I? And I won't start now. Yes, Cehmai-
kya has fallen in love with you. He's Young. His passions are still a