spared a cautious glance at the creatures, then knelt and put his hand over one. Two of the creatures looked at him, then looked away, seemingly unconcerned. Encouraged, Lewan picked up the arrow, then gathered the other four. With the hammer tucked into his belt, he was able to carry the arrows and his master's bow in one hand. Ulaan reached for his other hand, but he pulled away.
'Lewan,' she said. 'About… what happened…'
Lewan waited, but she could not seem to find the words.
'I… suspected already,' he said.
'What?'
'Earlier today, Talieth said something to me. About you. When I bargained for your freedom, she told me, 'Ulaan is still no dryad.' But I never mentioned the dryads to her, nor the Jalesh Rudra. But she knew about them. Which means that either she was watching us-or you told her.' He looked down on her, hoping to seem angry and resentful, but he knew his face reflected only his true feeling-hurt. 'I'd hoped she was watching-sick as that might seem.'
Ulaan looked away. 'I… I am sorry, Lewan. Truly.'
'I thought…' He looked away, unable to finish.
'What?'
'I thought you had feelings for me,' he said, 'like… like I had for you. That hurt at first. Hurt me to think of all the other men who'd had you.' He looked at her again, and this time he knew the anger was coming through in his gaze, for she flinched back. 'This… this hurts worse.'
She held his gaze. 'You… were not wrong,' she said, 'about all of it. Not everything I told you was a lie, Lewan. My mother was a slave, and my father could have been anyone. Lady Talieth bought me and trained me. As an assassin. And part of being an assassin is learning the skills to… to get close to someone.'
'Like me.'
'Yes,' she said.
He let the silence hang while he gathered his own thoughts. The creatures around them seemed heedless of the conversation. At last he said, 'Back in my rooms as we were preparing to leave, you almost told me then, didn't you? All this?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
She thought a moment, then said, 'You weren't wrong. I have been with other men. But none of them looked at me the way you do. They saw me as warm flesh to use. You see a person.' She opened her mouth to say more, but then looked away.
'You really were going to go with me?' said Lewan. 'Away from here?'
She looked at him then, and looking into her eyes, Lewan saw-perhaps for the first time-the real Ulaan. Nor the meek servant nor even the deadly assassin. He saw strength, courage, and a determination bordering on ferocity-but also a need that looked to him. 'Yes,' she said. 'I will go with you.'
The creatures around them went suddenly very still, then a few of them cocked their heads, as if listening. A murmur passed through their ranks, then they were moving forward again, Ulaan and Lewan in their midst.
Ulaan reached out and grabbed Lewan's hand. He did not pull away this time. He could see the fear in her eyes, but still she smiled at him and said, 'This was not quite what I had in mind.'
A shudder passed through Lewan as they walked through the gate and entered the courtyard. 'What's wrong?' said Ulaan. 'It's just-'
'Ulaan!' came a cry from above them.
They stopped and looked up. Under the lights and shadows, Lewan could not see clearly more than a few feet into the trees, but he thought he could make out something paler than the surrounding foliage. Skin? Given the size and shape, it had to be a face.
'L-lady?' Ulaan called out.
It was Talieth, still trapped by the vines up in the trees.
'Ulaan!' Talieth called out. Lewan had never heard her voice like this. The proud queen, the temptress, was gone. She sounded weak and frightened. It was taking the last vestiges of her courage to call out. 'Ulaan, call for help! Please! Tell the blades the night is red! Call for-!'
The leaves rustled and thrashed, and Talieth's cry ended in a shriek.
The creatures pushed them onward. Not roughly, but there was no resisting them.
'Boy!' It was Sauk, calling out from above. 'Hear me, boy! You're going up there, you tell your master I'm coming for him! I'm going to eat his heart! Tell him!'
There was more thrashing, much more violent, and Sauk's roaring did not end. Lewan could still hear it echoing off the stone as he and Ulaan were led inside the tower.
Halfway up the stairs, Ulaan stumbled and fell. When she didn't rise, Lewan stooped and grabbed her arm with his free hand. The creature nearest him hissed.
'I'm just helping her up,' he said.
The creature blinked at him, displaying no emotion or acknowledgment that he understood-or cared.
Lewan looked down at Ulaan and helped her to rise. He thought he heard her murmur something. 'What?' he asked.
'What?' she said as she regained her feet.
They continued walking up the stairs.
'I thought I heard you say something,' said Lewan.
Ulaan did not answer.
At the top of the stairs before a stout wooden door, the creatures stopped. The door opened, and by the sound of rustling leaves and creaking branches, Lewan knew that the vines wrapped around it were doing the opening. Beyond the doorway were more stairs, encased in an arched stone hallway.
The creatures turned to him and bowed. One of them hissed and said, 'Lur'ashai, ash sissaan.'
'They want us to go up, I think,' said Lewan.
'Do we have a choice?' said Ulaan.
'You want to tell them no?'
She considered a moment, then said, 'You still have your hammer?'
He patted the stone head of the hammer protruding from the top of his belt. 'Yes.'
A moment's silence, then she said, 'You go first.'
Lewan led the way. The door shut behind them. The steps, wide and shallow, wound around the tower several times, then passed through a large opening in the ceiling.
Lewan and Ulaan emerged onto a wide roof, lit by a few braziers and several lamps, their flames low and weak in the drizzle. But dozens of the meandering lights had climbed the tower and floated about, making the shadows seem to cringe and gasp in their passing. Great columns of stone, twisted in the Imaskari fashion, stood at each corner. Statues of ancient Imaskari heroes-or perhaps they were gods-stood atop them, and each supported the end of one of the great stone tubes. One, a beautiful woman, held forth a silver urn, still untarnished by the years, and clear water poured from it. Opposite her, a bearded man stood amidst stone waves, and from the tip of each wave, water streamed out in fountains. The water filled a pool before running off in channels and through sluices over the edge of the tower. The other two-one holding aloft a stone sun, the other pounding stone flames over a graven forge-stood cold. Vegetation dominated everything-trees growing up through broken stone, vines and creepers covering stone and trees, moss carpeting many surfaces, petals and lily pads floating in the water.
'And there they are!' said a voice behind them.
Lewan turned. On the far side of the roof stood an old man, dressed in a long robe and leaning on a staff made from twisted branches. Lewan knew the voice at once-the voice of the man he'd met on the mountain, and the voice that had spoken through the creature after rescuing Lewan and Ulaan from the guards. Behind the Old Man, Master Berun sat shirtless upon a wide stone table covered in leaves and flowers. Most of his exposed skin had been painted with runes and holy symbols, and his wounds were gone.
'Master!' Lewan called out. He ran to Berun and embraced him with his free arm. 'I could not get away,' he whispered. 'Forgive me. I tried.'
