Kushiel's Avatar - Jacqueline Carey [328]
"Phèdre," he whispered.
I flung both arms about his neck and burst into tears.
He felt the same, under my touch. Whatever changes his long ordeal had wrought in him, whatever powers endowed him, beneath it he was Hyacinthe still, my childhood friend, my Prince of Travellers. The scent of his skin triggered more memories than I could count. Before Joscelin, before the Queen, before Thelesis de Mornay, Cecilie Laveau-Perrin, before my lord Delaunay himself. . . before them all, I had known Hyacinthe.
"Phèdre," he said again, drawing a wracking breath, holding me close. "You said you were sure. You said you were sure!"
I lifted my tear-stained face. "I am, Hyacinthe; as sure as I can be. You wouldn't risk any of us. Should I risk them, when I am the only one needed?”
His smile was a ghost of its former self as he released me. "You're awfully willful for an anguissette, you know. A sickness in the blood, my mother would say."
I laughed through my tears. "I remember."
Hyacinthe shuddered and laid his hands upon my shoulders. "You know I have to ask?"
I nodded. "What is needful to break this curse. I know. I will take your place."
"I could ask more," he reminded me.
"Do I need to say it?" I dashed away the tears with the back of my hand, steadying my voice. "I know the source of your power, that is pages from the Sepher Raziel, the Lost Book of Raziel, which Rahab brought forth from the deep. I know that Rahab loved a D'Angeline woman who loved him not, and thus the curse was born. Do you require more? I know more. I can tell you tales of Rahab himself, and how he was punished once before, for failing to part the seas at the One God's command. The geis is fulfilled, Hyacinthe. You are free of it."
"The book." He gazed at the stairs. "I shouldn't leave without it."
"Then let's get it."
Hyacinthe nodded and walked to the edge of the promontory, addressing the ship. A dozen faces ranged along the railing, staring back at him. "My lord Rousse," he said in the echoing voice that came from everywhere and nowhere. "We go now to retrieve the one item of value on this forsaken isle. We will return, and attempt once more the crossing. Forgive me, but I must ensure before then that no other disembarks on this deadly shore."
And so saying, he blew out his breath and pushed gently with both hands, whispering unheard words, circling three fingers in the air. The water in the still harbor surged, bearing the ship on a hummock into the center and depositing it there, untouched, while a wall of water circled about it in a contained maelstrom, sea-green and clear, unwitting fish swimming in the limpid barrier.
I heard shouts of dismay and consternation. Even at a distance, I could make out a few reactions. Quintilius Rousse was ordering his men about, rigging the ship with storm-sails, preparing for the worst. Sibeal remained in the prow, clinging to hope. Eleazar looked here and there, visibly exclaiming and beaming at the marvel. Joscelin stood with arms folded, his face a mask of betrayal. And Imri . . . Imri was leaning over the railing, reaching out one hand in an effort to touch one of thecircling fish, while Hugues held his legs anchored and Ti-Philippe pointed his efforts.
He wasn't afraid, I thought. Ah, Imriel! Blessed Elua be thanked for that mercy.
"Melisande's son!" Hyacinthe shook his head in wonderment. "I watched in the sea-mirror, so far as I could, but once you passed beyond the waters that border Terre d'Ange, I could see no more. The Master of the Straits' power has its limits."
"And the dromonde:"' I asked him.
He was quiet for a while, turning and starting up the interminable stairs. "I looked," he said when we had reached the halfway point, me toiling behind him. "The last time I dared was over a year ago. I saw a darkness so profound I feared to look again."
"Daršanga," I said, remembering. "We were in Daršanga, then."
Hyacinthe bowed his head. "You