Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [267]
I told Snow Tiger about Old Nemed and what she had done, and what the dragon had said to me.
She was silent for a long moment. "That seems a dangerous gift."
"I know."
"And yet if they were given the chance to offer up their memories freely, to be rewarded instead of punished… yes. It would be better, much better." The princess looked at the bright silvery disc of the moon's reflection wavering on the water. "Those who seek to flee and hide would come forward willingly, especially the alchemists and engineers who possess the most dangerous knowledge." She glanced at me. "You truly think you can do this thing?"
"I don't know," I murmured. "I see the possibility of it in a way I never did before."
She turned to face me. "Then let us try."
"Now?" I felt anxious and unready.
"There is very little time, Moirin," she said gently. "We must know if it is possible and can be proved. Tell me what to do."
I rubbed the tiny scar on my hand. "You need to choose a memory, hold it in your thoughts, and offer it to me. And… I do not know how to prove it, my lady. If it works, you will have no memory of it, and no way of knowing I speak the truth."
"True." Snow Tiger thought a moment. "I do not believe you would lie, but there should be proof. Let us send for paper and ink. I will write down the memory I have chosen. You cannot read, can you?"
"Not Ch'in characters, no," I admitted, adding, "I can read perfectly well in my own language."
She smiled a little. "I did not mean to offend you. But if you are able to tell me what I have written, a memory I cannot recall recorded in my own hand, I will know beyond doubt that it is true."
We returned to wake the drowsy maid and send her for paper and ink. Snow Tiger sat at the writing table, wetted her brush on the ink-stone, and gazed at the blank scroll, hesitating. I had a good idea what she was thinking.
"It can be any memory you choose, my lady," I said softly. "One you would be glad to be rid of."
"It is tempting." Her voice was wistful. "But to deny such memories is to dishonor the dead. I will not do it." She dipped her brush again and wrote on the scroll, characters flowing with strong, graceful lines. "There."
I glanced around the room. "Can we go back outside? It will be easier for me."
"Yes, of course."
Watched by the curious maid, we returned to the edge of the lake. I breathed the Breath of Trees Growing, centering my thoughts. Snow Tiger waited with a calm patience that reminded me of Master Lo, waiting for me to prepare myself. I pushed the thought away, concentrating. "I will need to touch you."
"At least you are warning me this time," she said wryly.
It made me laugh, and eased my tension, which I daresay she intended. I cupped her face in my hands. She raised it trustingly to me, the silver moon reflected in her eyes, a reminder of the dragon's coils. I leaned close, so close our noses almost touched. "Hold the memory in your thoughts, and offer it freely."
She did.
I sensed the memory unfurl in her thoughts, a happy memory of her sword tutor praising her for disarming him for the first time, and the warm glow she felt at the first kind words he had spoken to her.
"Oh, my lady!" I said in dismay. "Why did you choose such a nice memory?"
"So that I would know there was no part of me that willed it gone," she said in a steady tone.
I wanted to shake her for her relentless nobility, to tell her to go back and write down a different memory, some trivial childhood mishap. But it was late, I was ready, and unlikely to convince her anyway.
So instead I called the magic and made