Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [138]
"Lose any teeth?" he asked.
I spat out a mouthful of blood and probed with my tongue. "Don't think so," I said thickly. "Loosened a couple."
He nodded. "Don't fuss with them." There was a street lad standing by, holding the Bastard and Joscelin's horse. He paid him and took the reins. "Come on." He started walking, leading both horses. They followed docilely. After a moment, I stumbled after them.
We walked for a long time. It was late and the City was quiet. After a while, I began to feel more sick than drunk. I had to pause a few times to vomit, heaving the contents of my stomach on the cobbled streets until I felt empty as a scraped gourd.
At Elua's Square, Joscelin tied up the horses and let me rest. I dunked my head into the cool waters of the dolphin fountain, scrubbing my battered face and swilling my mouth, then cupped my hands and drank deeply. It was the best water I ever tasted.
"Feel better?" he asked.
"Yes." My face was beginning to ache and stiffen and my swollen lips made talking difficult, but I was beginning to sober. "A little." I sat down on the stone bench where I had waited for my nonexistent conspirator to contact me.
Joscelin sat down beside me.
"Did Phèdre tell you?" I asked him.
He didn't answer at once, gazing at the stars. They were dense tonight, bright against the black sky. "I can't look at the stars without thinking of that night," he mused. "Searching for Kapporeth." He looked at me. "She said she suspected you'd come face-to-face with your heritage."
"I went to Valerian House," I said. "And I—" I looked away.
"And then you went home," he finished.
He knew.
I felt sick in a way that had naught to do with rotgut ale. Sick at heart, sick with guilt and shame. I said nothing, swallowing tears, trying to act like a man.
"Imri, love." The gentleness in Joscelin's voice nearly undid me. "You are what you are. We cannot choose the gifts the gods bequeath to us, only what we do with them. Believe me, no one knows it better than Phèdre." He smiled a little, stroking my shorn locks. "Though I may run a close second."
I did cry, then; hot tears, bitter and silent. They leaked beneath my lids and dampened my cheeks, salt-stinging on my split lips. Joscelin let me, offering no words of false comfort, only wordless solace. At last they ran their course, and there, on a bench in Elua's Square, I gathered my resolve and made a choice.
"I'm leaving," I said. "I'm going to Tiberium."
"Are you sure?" He searched my face with shadowed eyes. "We can find a way through this, Imri. We've faced worse together."
"I'm sure." I thought about what else awaited me in the City of Elua. The Queen and Cruarch urging me toward Dorelei, with her sweet child's laugh and Alban innocence. My young royal cousin Sidonie and the banked heat between us. Knowledge of Valerian House, where a beautiful adept proclaimed herself taken with me. All of those things added up to a disaster. I rubbed away tears with the heel of my hand. "I can't stay."
"I wish you would," Joscelin said simply.
"I know." I smiled at him though it made my face ache. "It's not that the City is too small, or Montrève, or even Terre d'Ange. It's me. I need to grow. I need to find out who I am. And I can't do it here. Not without hurting the people I love."
He nodded. "So be it, then. We'll begin making arrangements on the morrow."
We both rose. On impulse, I embraced him, flinging both arms around his neck and hugging him hard. Joscelin returned my embrace, his vambraced arms firm around me. For the last time, I stood in the charmed circle of his protection, knowing nothing bad could happen to me while he was there.
For the space of a few heartbeats, it was true.
But I wasn't a child anymore, and he couldn't protect me from myself. He was wise enough not to try, and I knew it.
"I'll miss you," I whispered. "So much!"
"So will I," he murmured. "So will I, love."
His arms tightened, and then he released me. In the shadowy starlight, I saw, for the first time I remembered, the