Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [185]
I thought he would say yes or no, but instead Bao looked thoughtful. "I don't know," he said at length. "Whether you believe it or not, Master Lo has been alive longer than anyone's memory. There is a rumor that he had a wife, once. And a rumor that he loved her very much." Both shoulders lifted and fell. "If it is true, he never speaks of it."
"Not even to his magpie?" I asked.
His hands slid up my arms, calluses making me shiver. "No," Bao whispered against my lips, kissing me. "Not even to his magpie."
I breathed in the scent of red-hot metal and kissed him in return, feeling a little dizzy. "Oh, well."
Bao shifted me expertly, pulling me atop him. "Want to try falling in love again?"
I wriggled. "Gods, yes!"
It was a long journey and our efforts were prodigious; and yet we spoke of love more in jest than not. Despite his teasing and his comfortable demeanor in the bedchamber, there was a part of Bao that remained guarded. I daresay the same was true of me. I was at ease in Bao's company in a way I hadn't been with anyone since Cillian; and yet the realization of that truth evoked sorrow. I'd loved Cillian, but not enough. And I'd scarce given myself a chance to grieve for him before flinging myself at Raphael de Mereliot, convinced he was my destiny.
Raphael…
I'd been a useful tool to him, nothing more. It was true, and it was galling to acknowledge. He'd used my desire to his own ends. I'd let my yearning for destiny and his healing hands blind me to the truth. Raphael had never really cared for me, never wanted me. Only what I could do for him.
And then there was Jehanne. Against all odds, there was Jehanne, my unlikeliest of rescuers.
I daresay she was right; if I had stayed, matters between us would have changed sooner or later. She was fickle and vain and everything her critics claimed. And I wouldn't have been content forever with a seat at a banquet table where I was never more than a guest. In the end, it wouldn't have been enough.
And yet…
It had ended too soon.
Betimes I watched the waves swell and break around the ship, bright foam sparkling on their crests, and thought of Jehanne. Tasting the salt-spray on my lips and wondering if she'd driven any chambermaids to tears since I left. Wondering at the tides ebbing and flowing in her body, wondering at the rising swell of her belly. Counting the days and weeks and months on my fingers and thinking, Not yet.
I wished I were there.
I'm here. I'd said that to her when she was frightened. And I'd meant it. I'd meant to stay as long as she needed me. Instead, I'd left her as she'd always known I would. Jehanne had forgiven me for it. She'd forgiven me before it happened. For all her foibles, despite the mercurial temperament that made me smile, she had a vast and passionate heart. And she had loved me. No matter what else happened, that would always be true.
I missed her.
So Bao and I danced and sparred and bedded one another, Master Lo's magpie and his witch, both of us nursing our bruised and scarred hearts.
We sailed through calm seas.
We rounded the tip of a continent and sailed through battering storms and rough seas, where I thought I might die. And when we did, when the ship the size of a city was dwarfed by the pitching waves it rode, its hull and ribs threatening to crack beneath the massive pressure, I was grateful for Bao's strong arms around my waist.
"What happens?" I gasped. "What happens to you if you die?"
He tightened his arms. "No one's dying today."
"But what?"
"Our spirits go to the city of Fengdu," Bao said in my ear. "Where the Yama Kings sit in judgment. First we are presented to the God of Places, who reviews a record of all our deeds. After forty-nine days, we are sent to the courts of the Yama Kings. Each of the Yama Kings judges our different sins and sentences us to punishment. For example, gossips and liars are sent to the Chamber of Ripping Tongues. Merchants who cheat their customers are forced to