THE YEAR FIRE spent training her father to experience things that didn't exist was also, thankfully, the year her relationship with Archer found a new happiness.

Cansrel hadn't minded experiencing non-existent things, for it was a time when existing things depressed him. Nax had been his conduit to all pleasures, and Nax was gone. Brigan grew more influential and had escaped another attack uninjured. It was some relief for Cansrel to feel sun on his skin in the midst of weeks of drizzle, or taste monster meat when it was not being served. There was solace in the touch of his daughter's mind - now that she knew better than to turn flames into flowers.

On her side of things, Fire's body suffered; she lost her appet.i.te, grew thin, had attacks of dizziness, got cramps in her neck and shoulders that made playing music painful and brought on splitting headaches. She avoided contemplation of the thing she was thinking of doing. She was certain that if she looked at it straight on she'd lose control of herself.

Archer was not, in fact, the only person that year to bring her comfort. A young woman named Liddy, sweet and hazel-eyed, was the maid of Fire's bedrooms. She came upon Fire one spring day curled on the bed, fighting off a whirling panic. Liddy liked her mild young lady, and was sorry at her distress. She sat beside Fire and stroked her hair, at Fire's forehead and behind her ears, against her neck, and down to the small of her back. The touch was kindly meant, and the deepest and tenderest comfort in the world. Fire found herself resting her head in Liddy's lap while Liddy continued stroking. It was a gift, offered unjealously, and Fire accepted it.

That day, from that moment, something quiet grew between them. An alliance. They brushed each other's hair sometimes, helped each other dress and undress. They stole time together, whispering, like little girls who've discovered a soul mate.

Some things could not happen in Cansrel's proximity without Cansrel knowing; monsters knew things. Cansrel began to complain about Liddy. He did not like her, he did not like the time they spent together. Finally he lost patience and arranged a marriage for Liddy, sending her away to an estate beyond the town.

Fire was breathless, astounded, and heartbroken. Certainly she was glad that he'd merely sent Liddy away, not killed her or taken her into his own bed to teach her a lesson. But still, it was a bitter and selfish cruelty. It did not make her merciful.

Perhaps her lonesomeness after Liddy prepared her for Archer, though Liddy and Archer were manifestly different.

During that spring and into the summer she turned fifteen, Archer knew what mad thing Fire was contemplating. He knew why she couldn't eat and why her body suffered. It tormented him, took him out of his mind with fear for her. He fought with her about it; he fought with Brocker, who was also worried but who nonetheless refused to interfere. Over and over he begged Fire to release herself from the entire endeavour. Over and over Fire refused.

One August night during a frantic whispered battle under a tree outside her house, he kissed her. She stiffened, startled, and then knew, as his hands reached for her and he kissed her again, that she wanted this, she needed Archer, her body needed this wildness that was also comfort. She burrowed herself against him; she brought him inside and upstairs. And that was that; child companions became lovers. They found a place where they could agree, a release from the anxiety and unhappiness that threatened to overwhelm them. After making love with her friend, Fire often found herself wanting to eat. Kissing her and laughing, Archer would feed her in her own bed with food he carried in through the window.

Cansrel knew, of course, but where her gentle love of Liddy had been intolerable to him, her need for Archer roused nothing stronger than an amused acceptance of the inevitable. He didn't care, as long as she took the herbs when she needed to. 'Two of us is enough, Fire,' he'd say smoothly. She heard the threat in his words toward the baby she wasn't going to have. She took the herbs.

Archer did not act jealous in those days, or domineering. That came later.

Fire knew too well that things didn't ever stay the same. Natural beginnings came to natural or unnatural ends. She was eager to see Archer, more than eager, but she knew what he would come to King's City hoping for. She wasn't looking forward to putting this end into words for him.

FIRE HAD TAKEN to describing the foggy archer to everyone she questioned, very briefly at the end of each interview. So far it was to no avail.

'Lady,' Brigan said to her today in Garan's bedroom. 'Have you learned anything yet about that archer?'

'No, Lord Prince. No one seems to recognise his description.'

'Well,' he said, 'I hope you'll keep asking.'

Garan's health had had a setback, but he refused to go into the infirmary or stop working, which meant that in recent days his bedchamber had become quite a hub of activity. Breathing was a difficulty and he had no strength to sit up. Despite this, he remained more than capable of holding his side of an argument.

'Forget the archer,' he said now. 'We have more important matters to discuss, such as the exorbitant cost of your army.' He glared at Brigan, who'd propped himself against the wardrobe, too directly in Fire's line of vision to ignore, tossing a ball back and forth in his hands that she recognised as a toy she'd seen Blotchy and Hanna fighting over on occasion. 'It's far too expensive,' Garan continued, still glaring from his bed. 'You pay them too much, and then when they're injured or dead and no use to us you continue to pay them.'

Brigan shrugged. 'And?'

'You think we're made of money.'

'I will not cut their pay.'

'Brigan,' Garan said wearily. 'We cannot afford it.'

'We must afford it. The eve of a war is not the time to start cutting an army's pay. How do you think I've managed to recruit so many? Do you really think them so shot through with loyalty for the bloodline of Nax that they wouldn't turn to Mydogg if he offered more?'

'As I understood it,' Garan said, 'the lot of them would pay for the privilege of dying in defence of none other than you.'

Nash spoke from his seat in the window, where he was a dark shape outlined in the light of a blue sky. He'd been sitting there for some time. Fire knew he was watching her. 'And that's because he always sticks up for them, Garan, when brutes like you try to take their money away. I wish you would rest. You look like you're about to pa.s.s out.'

'Don't patronise me,' Garan said; and then dissolved into a fit of coughing that had the sound of a saw blade tearing through wood.

Fire leaned forward in her chair and touched Garan's damp face. She'd come to an understanding with him regarding this bout of illness. He insisted on working, and so she agreed to bring him her reports from the questioning rooms; but only if he allowed her into his mind, to ease his sense of his throbbing head and burning lungs.

'Thank you,' he said to her softly, taking her hand and holding it to his chest. 'This conversation rots. Lady, give me some good news from the questioning rooms.'

'I'm afraid there isn't any, Lord Prince.'

'Still coming up with contradiction?'

'Most certainly. A messenger told me yesterday that Mydogg has definite plans to make an attack against both the king and Lord Gentian in November. Then today a new fellow told me Mydogg has definite plans to move his entire army north into Pikkia and wait for a war between Gentian and the king to play out before he so much as raises a sword. Plus, I spoke to a spy of Gentian's who says Gentian killed Lady Murgda in an ambush in August.'

Brigan was spinning the ball now on the end of his finger, absent-mindedly. 'I met with Lady Murgda on the fifteenth of September,' he said. 'She wasn't particularly friendly, but she was plainly not dead.'

It was a tendency in the questioning rooms that had arisen suddenly in recent weeks, contradiction and misinformation, coming from all sides and making it very difficult to know which sources to trust. The messengers and spies Fire questioned were clear-headed and truthful with their knowledge. It was simply that their knowledge was wrong.

All at the Dellian court knew what it meant. Both Mydogg and Gentian were aware that Fire had joined the ranks of the enemy. To lessen the advantage she gave the Dellian throne, both rebel lords had begun misinforming some among their own people, and then sending them out to get caught.

'There are people close to both men,' Garan said, 'people who know the truth of their plans. We need those people - a close ally of Mydogg's, and one of Gentian's. And they have to be people we'd never suspect normally, for neither Mydogg nor Gentian must ever suspect us of questioning them.'

'We need an ally of Mydogg's or Gentian's pretending to be among the most loyal allies of the king,' Brigan said. 'Shouldn't be so hard, really. If I shot an arrow out the window I'd probably hit one.'

'It seems to me,' Fire said carefully, 'that if I take a less direct approach, if I question every person we're holding about things I haven't bothered to investigate before - every party they've ever been to, every conversation they've ever overheard but perhaps not understood the significance of, every horse they've ever seen heading south when it should've been heading north-'

'Yes,' Brigan said. 'It might yield something.'

'And where are the women?' Fire asked. 'Enough men. Give me the women Mydogg and Gentian've taken to bed, and the barmaids who've had to serve them their wine. Men are daft around women, incautious and boastful. There must be a hundred women out there carrying information we could use.'

Nash spoke soberly. 'That seems good advice.'

'I don't know,' Garan said. 'I'm offended.' He stopped, choked by a spasm of coughing. Nash moved to his brother's bed, sat beside him, and held his shoulder to steady him. Garan reached a shaky hand to Nash. Nash clasped it in his.

It always struck Fire, the physical affection between these siblings, who as often as not were at each other's throats over one thing or another. She liked the way the four of them shifted and changed shape, b.u.mping and clanging against each other, sharpening each other's edges and then smoothing them down again, and somehow always finding the way to fit together.

'And,' Brigan said, returning quietly to his previous topic, 'don't give up on the archer, Lady.'

'I won't, for he troubles me much,' Fire said; and then sensed the approach of an altogether different archer. She looked into her lap to hide her flush of joy. 'Lord Archer has just arrived at court,' she said. 'Welkley is bringing him here now.'

'Ah,' Brigan said. 'And here's the man we should recruit to shoot arrows out the window.'

'Yes,' Garan said wickedly, 'I hear his arrow is always finding new targets.'

'I'd hit you if you weren't flat on your back,' Brigan said, suddenly angry.

'Behave yourself, Garan,' Nash hissed. Before Fire could even begin to react to the argument, which struck her as rather funny, Welkley and Archer were through the door, and everyone but Garan was standing.

'Lord King,' Archer said immediately, dropping to his knee before Nash. 'Lord Princes,' he said next, standing to take Brigan's hand and stooping to take Garan's.

He turned to Fire. With great propriety he took her hands in his. And the instant their eyes met he was laughing and glinting with mischief, his face so happy and Archer-like that she began to laugh as well.

He lifted her up to give her a proper hug. He smelled like home, like the northern autumn rains.

SHE WENT FOR a walk with Archer around the palace grounds. The trees were blazing with autumn colour. Fire was astonished now, and thrilled, with the tree beside the green house, because in recent days it had transformed into the closest natural thing she'd ever seen to her hair.

Archer told her how bleak the north was in comparison. He told her about Brocker's activities, and the year's good harvest, and his pa.s.sage south with ten soldiers through the rain. 'I've brought your favourite musician,' Archer said, 'and he's brought his whistle.'

'Krell,' Fire said, smiling. 'Thank you, Archer.'

'This guard on our heels is all very well,' Archer said, 'but when can we be alone?'

'I'm never alone. I always have a guard, even in my bedchamber. '

'Surely that can change now I'm here. Why don't you tell them to go away?'

'They're under Brigan's orders, not mine,' Fire said lightly. 'And as it turns out, he's quite stubborn. I haven't been able to change his mind about it.'

'Well,' Archer said, smirking, 'I will change his mind. I daresay he understands our need of privacy. And his authority over you must lessen now that I'm here.' will change his mind. I daresay he understands our need of privacy. And his authority over you must lessen now that I'm here.'

Of course, Fire thought, and Archer's own authority must rise up to replace it. Her temper flared out; she caught at the ends of it and hauled it back in. 'There's something I must tell you, Archer, and you're not going to like it.'

His entire manner changed instantly, mouth hard, eyes flashing, and Fire was amazed at how fast their reunion had turned to this. She stopped and stared at him in exasperation, spoke over him to stop him. 'Archer, stay within your rights. Don't you dare start accusing me of taking some man to my bed.'

'A woman, then? It wouldn't be entirely without precedent, would it?'

She clenched her fists so hard her nails hurt the palms of her hands; and suddenly she was no longer concerned with holding on to the ends of her fury. 'I was so excited for you to come,' she said. 'I was so happy to see you. And now already you've started in on me, and I wish you would leave. You understand me, Archer? When you get like this I wish you would leave. The love I give you, you take, and you use it against me.'

She swung away from him, strode away, came back again and stood furious before him, aware that this was the first time she'd ever spoken to him this way. She should have spoken like this more. She'd been too generous with her patience.

We're not lovers anymore, she thought at him. This is the thing I needed to tell you. The closer you get to me the harder you pull, and your grip is too tight. You hurt me with it. You love me so much you've forgotten how to be my friend. I miss my friend This is the thing I needed to tell you. The closer you get to me the harder you pull, and your grip is too tight. You hurt me with it. You love me so much you've forgotten how to be my friend. I miss my friend, she thought at him fiercely. I love my friend. We're through as lovers. Do you understand? I love my friend. We're through as lovers. Do you understand?

Archer stood dazed, breathing heavily, eyes stony. Fire could see that he did understand.

And now Fire saw Hanna, and sensed her at the same time, coming over the hill at the archery range and bolting toward them with all her small speed.

Fire began a battle for her composure. 'There's a child coming,' she told Archer hoa.r.s.ely, 'and if you take your vile mood out on her I won't speak to you again.'

'Who is she?'

'Brigan's daughter.'

Archer stared at Fire very hard.

And then Hanna reached them, Blotchy careening close behind. Fire knelt to meet the dog. Hanna stopped before them, smiling and gasping, and Fire sensed her sudden confusion as she took in their silence. 'What's wrong, Lady Fire?' Hanna asked.

'Nothing, Lady Princess. I'm happy to see you and Blotchy.'

Hanna laughed. 'He's getting your dress muddy.'

Yes, Blotchy was destroying her dress, and practically bowling her over as he bounced in and out of her lap, for in his mind he was still a puppy, even though his body had grown. 'Blotchy is much more important than my dress,' Fire said, taking the wriggling dog in her arms, wanting his muddy joy.

Hanna came close and whispered in her ear. 'Is that angry man Lord Archer?'

'Yes, and he is not angry with you.'

'Do you think he would shoot for me?'

'Shoot for you?'

'Papa says he's the best in the kingdom. I want to see.'

Fire couldn't have explained why this made her so sad, that Archer should be the best in the kingdom, and Hanna should want to see. She burrowed her face for a moment against Blotchy. 'Lord Archer, Princess Hanna would like to see you shoot, for she's heard you're the best in all the Dells.'

Archer was hiding his feelings from her mind, but Fire knew how to read his face. She knew how his eyes looked when he was blinking back tears, and the muted voice he used when he was too miserable for anger. He cleared his throat now, and spoke in that voice. 'And what kind of bow do you favour, Lady Princess?'

'A longbow, like the one you carry, only yours is much bigger. Will you come? I'll show you.'

Archer didn't look at Fire. He turned and followed Hanna up the hill, Blotchy bounding after them. Fire stood, and watched them go.

Quite unexpectedly, Musa took her arm. Fire placed her hand on Musa's, grateful to be touched, fiercely glad to think that her guard might be overpaid.

IT WAS A very hard thing to have crushed the heart, and the hopes, of a friend.

After dark, unable to sleep, she went to the roofs. Eventually Brigan came wandering by and joined her. Now and then, since their conversation in the stables, he opened a flash of feeling to her. Tonight she could tell he was surprised to see her.

Fire knew why he was surprised. After her quarrel with Archer, Musa had told her, matter-of-factly, that at Fire's request Fire actually was permitted to be alone with Archer; that in the very beginning, in his instructions, Brigan had made an exception for Archer, as long as the grounds outside the windows were guarded and guards stood outside every door. She should have informed the lady of this before, Musa said, but she hadn't expected Lord Archer so soon. And once Fire and Archer had begun to argue, she hadn't wanted to interrupt.

Fire's face had burned at this knowledge. And here was why Brigan had defended Archer in Garan's bedroom earlier: he'd seen Garan's jibe as an offense to Fire, believed, even, that Fire was in love with Archer.

Fire told Musa, 'The exception is not necessary.'

'Yes, I got that sense,' Musa said. Then Mila brought Fire a cup of wine in the timid, comprehending way Mila had. The wine was a comfort. Fire's head had begun to ache, and she recognised the onset of her pre-bleeding time.

Now, on the roof, Fire was silent. She said nothing, not even when Brigan greeted her. He seemed to accept her silence and was rather quiet himself, filling the s.p.a.ce occasionally with the gentle patter of his conversation. He told her that Hanna was bedazzled by Archer, that they'd shot so many arrows together she had blisters between her fingers.

Fire was thinking about Archer's fear. She thought it was Archer's fear that made his love so hard to bear. Archer was controlling and imperious, and jealous and suspicious, and Archer always held her too near. Because he was afraid of her dying.