Bitterblue

not recognized him. Nor had she heard him speak, so she couldn't say if he was Monsean. She knew nothing at all.

Bitterblue tapped Katsa's door.

The door shot open partway and Katsa slammed herself into the crack, torso wrapped in a sheet, eyes glaring, bare shoulders blocking ingress.

'Oh, hello,' she said, letting the door go. 'What happened? Are you all right?'

'I need Po,' Bitterblue said. 'Is he awake?'

The door swung open to reveal the bed, where Po lay sleeping. 'He's exhausted,' said Katsa. 'What happened, sweetheart?' she asked again.

'Someone attacked me outside the castle,' Bitterblue said.

Katsa's eyes blazed blue and green and Po sat up in bed like a mechanical doll. 'What is it?' he said blearily. 'Wildcat? Is it morning?'

'It's the middle of the night and Bitterblue's been attacked,' Katsa said.

'Seas,' Po said, launching himself out of bed, dragging his sheet with him, knotting it around his waist and blundering back and forth like he was still half asleep. His bruised face looked thoroughly disreputable. 'Who? Where? Which street? Did they speak with an accent? Are you all right? You seem all right. Which way did they go?'

'I don't even know if the attack was meant for me or for the spy I was pretending to be,' Bitterblue said. 'Nor do I know who it was. It was no one I recognized and he didn't speak. But I believe that the Graceling was there, Po. Holt's niece, with the Grace of disguise. I believe she may have come to my aid.'

'Ah,' Po said, going still all of a sudden, then placing his hands on his hips and taking on a bizarre expression. A sort of studied nonchalance.

'Holt's niece?' Katsa said, peering at Po, puzzled. 'Hava? What about her? And why do you have sparkly stuff all over your face, Bitterblue?'

'Oh.' Bitterblue found a chair and sat, rubbing randomly at the paint she couldn't see on her face, the entire unhappy night flowing into her at once. 'Don't ask me about the paint while Po is here, Katsa, please,' she said, fighting tears. 'The paint is private. It has nothing to do with the attack.'

Katsa seemed to understand this. Going to a side table, she poured water into a bowl. Then, kneeling, she stroked Bitterblue's face with the soft cloth and cool water, patted her stinging forehead. This gentleness was too much. Big, seeping tears began to run down Bitterblue's cheeks, which Katsa accepted in stride, patting them away.

'Po,' Katsa said in a measured voice, 'why are you standing there trying to look innocent? What's going on with Hava?'

'I am innocent,' Po said indignantly. 'A week or so ago I met her, is all.'

'Ah,' said Bitterblue, Po's perfect comprehension of the Holt-sculpture debacle last night finally making sense. 'You're friends with my kidnapper. Lovely.'

'She was in the castle sneaking around,' Po went on, waving this away, 'trying to visit Holt. I sensed her pretending to be a sculpture in one of the hallways and apprehended her. We had a little chat. I trust her. She was very out of the loop that day with Danzhol, Bitterblue. She didn't realize, until it all happened, that he'd been intending to go so far as to kidnap you. She feels awful about it. Anyway, she agreed to spend some time in the wee hours of the morning keeping an eye out for your safety. I worry that she hasn't contacted me,' he added, rubbing his face with both palms, 'because I asked her to get in touch if anything ever happened. How far from the castle did the attack take place, Bitterblue? I can't find her anywhere outside.'

'Get in touch how?' Katsa asked, absently passing the cloth to Bitterblue.

'It was near to the east wall,' Bitterblue said, 'not in view of it, but one street beyond. What exactly are you doing, asking her to keep an eye out for me, Po? She's a wanted fugitive! And does this mean you've told her I go out nights?'

'How was she supposed to get in touch with you?' Katsa asked.

'I told you,' Po said to Bitterblue, 'I trust her.'

'Then trust her with your secrets, not mine! Po! Tell me she doesn't know!'

'Po,' Katsa said, in such a strange voice that both Po and Bitterblue stopped, turning to look at her. She had backed away nearly to the door and wrapped her bare arms around her sheet dress, as if she were cold. 'Po,' she said again, 'how was Hava to get in touch with you? Was she to come knocking on our doors?'

'What do you mean?' he asked; then swallowed; then rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

'How,' Katsa said, 'did you explain to her that you knew she was a person, not a sculpture?'

'You're jumping to conclusions,' Po said.

Katsa stared at Po with an expression on her face Bitterblue didn't often see. The look of a person who's been punched in the gut. 'Po,' Katsa whispered. 'She's a total stranger. We don't know the first thing about her.'

Hands on hips, head hanging, Po blew a breath of air at the floor. 'I don't need your permission,' he said, rather helplessly.

'But you're being reckless, Po. And devious! You made a promise that you would tell me whenever you decided to tell someone new. Don't you remember?'

'Telling you would have meant fighting a war with you about it, Katsa. I should be able to decide about my own secrets without having to go into battle with you every single time!'

'But if you've changed your mind about a promise,' Katsa said desperately, 'you must tell me. Otherwise, you're breaking the promise, and I'm left feeling that you've lied. How is it that I should need to explain this to you? This is the sort of thing you usually have to explain to me!'

'You know what?' said Po suddenly, forcefully. 'I can't do this with you around. I can't work through this thing when I know every moment how much it frightens you!'

'If you imagine that I'm going to leave you while you're in this mind-set—'

'You have to leave. It's been agreed. You go north to look for the tunnel to Estill.'

'I won't go. None of us will! If you're determined to ruin your own life, at least your friends will be here for you when it happens!'

Katsa was yelling now; they were both yelling, and Bitterblue had made herself small in her chair, flinching at the terrible noise, clutching the damp cloth to her chest with both hands. 'Ruin my life?' Po cried. 'Perhaps I'm trying to save my life!'

'Save your life? You—'

'Remember the deal, Katsa. If you won't leave, then I will, and you'll let me go!'

Katsa was holding the door handle, her fingers so tight that Bitterblue half expected the handle to snap off. Katsa stared at Po for a long time, saying nothing.

'You were leaving anyway,' Po said quietly, taking a step toward her, reaching out a hand. 'Love. You were leaving, and then you were going to come back. That's all I need right now. I need time.'

'Don't come any closer,' Katsa said. 'No. Don't say any more,' as he opened his mouth again to speak. A tear slid down Katsa's face. 'I understand you,' she said, 'completely.' And she pulled on the door, slipped through the crack, and was gone.

'Where is she going?' Bitterblue asked, startled. 'She's not dressed.'

Po sank onto the bed. Dropping his head into his hands, he said, 'She's going north to search for the tunnel to Estill.'

'Now? But she has no supplies! She's wearing a sheet!'

'I've located Hava,' he said roughly. 'She's hiding in the art gallery. She has blood on her hands and she's telling me that your attacker is dead. I'll get dressed and go up to her to see what she knows.'

'Po! Will you let Katsa go like this?'

He made no response. She understood, from the tears he was trying to hide from her, that he had no wish to discuss it.

Bitterblue watched him for a moment. Then, going to him, she touched his hair. 'I love you, Po,' she said. 'Whatever you do.'

Then she left.