"I think it's more accurate to say you bedded me," Cehmai said. "And it
seems to me that people do what we've done quite often without caring
about the other person. Or even while wishing them ill. I'll grant that
we haven't followed the usual order-I understand people usually know
each other first and then fall into bed afterwards-hut in a way that
means you should take me more seriously."
She pulled hack and took a pose of query.
"You know I'm not just saying it to get your robes open," he said. "When
I say I want to be someone you can speak with, it's truth. I've nothing
to gain by it but the thing itself."
She sighed and sat on the bed. The light of the single candle painted
her in shades of orange.
"Do you love me, Cehmai-kya?" she asked.
Cehmai took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. He had reached the
gate. Her thoughts, her fears. Everything that had driven this girl into
his bed was waiting to be loosed. All he would have to do was tell one,
simple, banal lie. A lie thousands of men had told for less reason. He
was badly tempted.
"Idaan-kya," he said, "I don't know you."
To his surprise, she smiled. She pulled on her hoots, not bothering to
lace the bindings, leaned over and kissed him again. Her hand caressed
his cheeks.
"Lucky to be you," she said softly.
Neither spoke as they walked down the corridor to the main rooms. The
shutters were closed against the night, and the air felt stuffy and
thick. He walked with her to the door, then through it, and sat on the
steps, watching her vanish among the trees. The crickets still sang. The
moon still hung overhead, bathing the night in blue. He heard the high
squeak of bats as they skimmed the ponds and pools, the flutter of an
owl's wings.
"You should be sleeping," the low, gravel voice said from behind him.
"Yes, I imagine so."
"First light, there's a meeting with the stone potters."
"Yes, there is."
Stone-Made-Soft stepped forward and lowered itself to sit on the step
beside him. The familiar bulk of its body rose and fell in a sigh that
could only be a comment.
"She's up to something," Cehmai said.
"She might only find herself drawn to two different men," the andat
said. "It happens. And you're the one she couldn't build a life with.
The other boy ..."
"No," Cehmai said, speaking slowly, letting the thoughts form as he gave
them voice. "She isn't drawn to me. Not one."
"She could be flattered that you want her. I've heard that's endearing."
"She's drawn to you."
The andat shifted to look at him. Its wide mouth was smiling.
"That would be a first," it said. "I'd never thought of taking a lover.
I don't think I'd know what to do with her."
"Not like that," Cehmai said. "She wants me because of you. Because I'm