“There. A small measure of privacy. I would advise against raising your voice, however.”
Reivan nodded. Imenja patted the bench.
“Sit. As you know, we need to talk.” When Reivan obeyed, Imenja smiled. “What are you sorry for?”
“For... for hiding from you.”
“It was silly of you, but I see you know that. You don’t need to feel guilty about taking Nekaun to bed, Reivan. It’s hardly something to be ashamed of.”
“I know, but...”
“But?”
“You and he...”
Imenja’s nose wrinkled. “We haven’t been agreeing on much lately.” Her shoulders lifted. “That is between us, and shouldn’t stop you taking pleasure whenever you find it. Pleasure doesn’t happen along as often as it should.”
“There’s a ‘however’ coming,” Reivan found herself saying. “I can hear it in your voice.”
Imenja laughed, low and quiet. “Yes, there is.” She drew in a deep breath, and all humor vanished from her face. “It is possible that Nekaun does regard you affectionately. I don’t want to dash your hopes there. There is also the possibility that he is simply using you.”
“Well, it’s not like we can get married. I don’t expect that.”
Imenja shook her head. “Think politically, Reivan. You didn’t avoid me all day just because you thought I wouldn’t approve of you having a little fun.”
“Do you think he’s using me to hurt you?”
“I have to consider it a possibility. So do you.”
Reivan looked at the pavement. If Nekaun thought Imenja would object to him bedding her Companion, it would be a way to strike at her. It was a low and petty thing to do, with no purpose other than to annoy someone who was supposed to be one of his closest allies.
“Surely not. It wouldn’t gain him anything.”
Imenja sighed. “Nothing but to weaken me a little more.”
Looking at the Second Voice, Reivan saw a resignation in the woman’s face that had never been there before. She felt a pang of concern. What had happened to make her mistress distrustful of Nekaun? How could such a powerful woman look so defeated?
Imenja straightened and turned to regard Reivan. “If his intentions are harmful, he’ll find me tougher than he expects,” she said. “It is you I worry about, Reivan. Could you stand being humiliated and manipulated? Are you strong enough to endure a broken heart? It could be unpleasant for you, if Nekaun’s intentions are ill.”
Reivan stared at her.
“Do you think he could be that cruel?”
Imenja sighed. “Do I think he is capable of low, immoral tactics? Yes. I know it to be so. Do I think he truly regards you with the deepest of affection?” She smiled and shrugged. “You’re an attractive woman. Not beautiful, but you have a sharp wit and a good sense of humor that more than makes up for that. There’s much to love. So maybe he does.”
Reivan felt her mouth stretching into a smile, and tried unsuccessfully to stop it.
“I would never want to rob you of any chance of love or pleasure,” Imenja said. “But if it turns sour, remember I am your friend. If you need to talk to someone, I will listen. If you need to get away from him, I will send you wherever you wish to go. I will do all I can to prevent you from coming to harm, but I can’t save you from hurt feelings. You must be strong, too.”
“I will be,” Reivan promised.
“Good.”
Imenja stood up. “Now, I have a meeting to attend, so I’d best move on.”
“Need my help?”
“No. I’ll speak to you tomorrow. Sleep well.”
Reivan smiled. “You too.”
As the Second Voice disappeared into the archway, the fountain dwindled to a stop. Reivan drew in a deep breath, yawned, and headed for her rooms, feeling better than she had all day.
The sun hung just above the top of the trees, as if preparing itself to dive within them. Auraya looked up at the rope. She had strung it from the top of the cliff to the branches of the trees below, then made a sliding seat out of wood and more rope. It was a rough copy of the system Mirar had used to get from platform to platform of the tree-bound Siyee village she had found him in months before. She felt a sudden anger and clenched her fists.
“Here.”
Auraya roused herself from her thoughts and accepted the steaming cup of maita from Jade. Taking a sip, she sighed in appreciation as the hot liquid warmed her.
Jade sat down beside her and looked up at the swing. It had carried her swiftly and safely to the ground many times, but she still hadn’t succeeded in sensing her position in the world around her. Still, it wasn’t a particularly high cliff.
“We could probably find a higher cliff and make a longer rope,” Auraya began.
Jade shook her head. “No. I think it’s pretty clear I haven’t got this ability to sense the world that you have. I need to be on my way, as well.”
“You’re just going to give up? After only one day?”
The woman chuckled. “Yes, I am. Maybe I’ll have the misfortune of falling off a cliff some day. If that happens, I’ll remember your instructions and try again. For now I’m happy to have my feet firmly on the ground.”
Auraya smiled. “We could still try the cliff jump. It might work.”
“And it might not.”
“I’d catch you.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you...”
Auraya lifted her eyebrows.
“Well, yes, you’re right,” Jade admitted. “I don’t trust you enough for that. Even so, all my good sense tells me jumping off a cliff is a bad idea. Logic tells me that if I need to move in order to learn to sense my position in the world, moving horizontally should be just as effective as vertically. If I was capable of learning this, I would have discovered this sense of the world you describe by now.”
“You’re probably right.” Auraya sighed. “Or else I’m a terrible teacher. Or maybe Mirar is right. He keeps insisting this is my innate Gift.”
Jade looked at Auraya closely. “How often do you speak to him?”
“We’ve talked a few times in dream-links.”
“You talk to him? I thought you didn’t like him.”
Auraya smiled. “I never said I didn’t like him.”
Jade frowned, then looked away. All was subdued, as if the creatures of the forest must wait for darkness before they could gain the courage to make their calls. Auraya listened with her other senses, paying attention to what she usually ignored unless she was flying: the magic around her, the feeling of where she was placed in the world. Her senses had grown clearer since she had come here.
A faint whisper or vibration caught her attention. She focused on it and realized it was a mind. A Siyee was flying toward them. It was Tyve.
“You may as well take that down,” Jade said, apparently unaware of the approaching Siyee.
