Kushiel's Avatar - Jacqueline Carey [301]
It was hard not to lean into her touch. It stirred me, stirred things in me I had not felt since Daršanga. I had thought, after that, I might never yearn for such tender cruelty again. I was wrong. Melisande's scent surrounded me, clouding my faculties. Even the Sacred Name itself blurred under her fingers, turning to incomprehensible syllables, my tongue grown thick with desire. I wanted to touch her, to taste her, to kneel at her feet.
"The first," I said, feeling the pulse beating betwixt my thighs. "On Kushiel's name. Swear you will not raise your hand, nor any other's, against Ysandre and her daughters."
"I swear it." Melisande withdrew her hand. "In Kushiel's name, I swear it."
I stood, feeling giddy. "Then I will raise your son as my own, my lady."
"So be it."
I got halfway to the door before her voice stopped me.
"Why did you do it?" Melisande asked, holding me with her wondering gaze. "Surely, you had done all that was in your power, and more. My oath didn't bind you unto near-certain death. You had your quest, and the key to the Name of God. Why did you abandon it towalk alone, with only that mad Cassiline to protect you, into a land even the most hardened Akkadian warrior feared? Was it only to free my son?"
I paused, and shook my head. "No, my lady. My oath took me to Khebbel-im-Akkad, no further. For the rest, I can say only that it was Elua's will, and part of a pattern more vast than I could have guessed. All of it. There was . . . there was somewhat in Drujan that Ptolemy Dikaios was right to fear, a shadow that might have fallen over us all, had it lived. But it is gone, now. A great ill has been averted. This would not have happened if I had not gone."
Melisande's face was very still. "Then Imriel did not suffer in vain."
"No," I said, and shook my head again, pitying her against my will. "Not wholly, my lady, and not only in retribution for your crimes. There was a purpose to it greater than Kushiel's justice alone."
Her eyes closed, and her lips moved in a prayer of thanksgiving. It was not a thing meant for me to see, and I turned once more to go.
"Phèdre."
After all these years and all that I knew of her, my name on her lips still brought me up short. Melisande might as well have had me on a lead. I stood despairing and watched as she rose from the couch, crossing to approach me. Squares of winter sunlight lay upon the marble floor, and sunlight gleamed on the Veil of Asherat, drawn back to lie in a glittering net on her blue-black hair. Her hands, pale as ivory, with long tapering fingers, rose to cup my face with infinite tenderness and the promise of immaculate cruelty. Caught between the desire to flee and to stay, I caught my breath, my heart beating too fast, erratic.
"Phèdre." Melisande smiled, her eyes as deep blue and fathomless as the evening sky. "You're a dreadful liar."
I drew in a shaking breath, trembling under her touch. "I've never lied to you."
"No?" The corners of her lovely mouth curled with amusement. "Let us say then that there are certain things you failed to mention, such as the attempts upon Imriel’s life made in Khebbel-im-Akkad. As for the rest, I will say only this. One day—not soon, but one day— tell my son that this bargain I have made with you today is my gift to him, the only one he would accept from me. And I, I will rest easier in the knowledge that he will be safer with you and your Cassiline than anywhere in the City of Elua, for you will permit no dangerous intrigues under your roof, and the two of you will protect him to the death." She looked at my expression and laughed. "Oh, Phèdre! Did you thinkI would not see that he loves you, and is loved in turn? Even Joscelin sought to protect him from me. And you . . . my dear, you could no sooner turn away love than you could erase the prick of Kushiel's Dart from your eye."
Feverish with desire and fear, I struggled to frame a reply.
Melisande ignored my efforts and kissed me.
The Name of God ignited in my skull, blazing under the touch of her lips, her tongue. I saw our paths crossing and recrossing,