Page 128 of House of Dusk
“You can. With the right weapon.”
“Letheko? You’re talking about the blade of oblivion?”
The woman shook her head. “It had a different name, once. So much has been forgotten. Cast into the flames and burned away. I...I was not strong enough. And now I may have doomed the world I sought to save. Deprived you of the weapon you need most desperately.”
“No,” Sephre said. “You did the best you could. And it’s not your concern anymore. It’s mine. I’ll get that dagger back. I’ll stop him.”
“You can’t stop him if you are dead.”
“I’m not—” She broke off as a wave of nausea suddenly swept over her. The luminous waters buoyed her, but they were no longer mild and gentle. She felt herself leaching into them. Like salt, dissolving into the sea.
“You are mortal,” said the woman, sadly. “And you no longer carry the flame.”
Sephre struggled briefly with her heavy tongue, her numb lips. “I don’t want the flame. I want this.” She thought of her pain, her sorrow, her guilt, all of it. And the love too, the gem-bright water, the smiles, the laughter, the warm touch of gentle fingers on her back. It was who she was. She would carry it.
“Ah.” The woman nodded. “Full circle, then. What I destroyed, you will renew.” She reached out, lightly, as if she meant to press her thumb to Sephre’s brow. But she was already fading. Or maybe it was Sephre’s vision turning hazy.
Let go. Let it be. Let yourself feel.
Feel what?
Everything.
Was it her own mind? Or some other voice, the wisdom of the waters themselves? Did it matter? She felt the truth of it. And obeyed.
Her life. All of it, crashing through her, fresh with pain and joy. Her choices. Her losses. Her mistakes. None of it could be undone. This was no absolution.
But it was change. Time spun on, and in it, a chance to make things better.
Then she was surging up, buoyed by a great swell. Water filled her mouth, her ears, her nose. She sputtered, beating her arms, and found herself standing waist deep in a dark pool, sodden and streaming.
The Serpent and Timeus stood above her, on the stone bridge. The god still wore Nilos’s face. He bent to seize one of her hands, helping her climb out of the water. “Welcome, Sister Sephre.”
“She said not to call her that,” warned Timeus. “She’s not an ashdancer anymore.”
“No,” said the Serpent, his green gaze holding hers. “She belongs to the House of Dusk now.”
CHAPTER 35
YENERIS
Yeneris had always thought that Sinoe was attractive. Even when she’d been convinced that the princess was a frivolous bit of thistledown, there had been no denying the merry brilliance of her fine hazel eyes, the coy sweetness of her smiles. A kitten used to being petted and primped, to winning her admirers with silky softness.
Now, she saw the claws. Now she saw not a kitten, but a lioness.
Sinoe stood in the center of her dressing chamber, the morning light turning her into a pillar of flame, caught by the gold threads of her gown, the gold ornaments in her hair. Her face was a mask, painted white as marble, eyes ringed in kohl, with two blue tears marking her cheeks.
A lump filled Yeneris’s throat, watching her. This woman who had snagged so deeply in her heart. Who made her believe that she could demand more of the world. That she could be more than a blade to sink into her enemy’s heart.
Was this Sinoe? Or was this some goddess, something rare and strange andsurelybeyond her reach?
“What’s wrong, Yen? Don’t tell me the tears are uneven. This is my first public scrying. I want to look impressive.”
Yeneris swallowed the lump. “You are.”
Sinoe tilted her head, giving a sly smile. “That’s it? No ‘yes, my love, you are as fine and fair as the summer dew?’” She tsked. “You’ll have to work on your love-talk if you’re going to be sticking around.”
She smiled, but her eyes dropped as she spoke, as she fiddled with the sleeve of her gown unnecessarily.
