He laughed. "It makes me unhappy, too. All I'm sayinga""

"I get it." I only sort of got it, but he didn't need to keep trying. "You make me happy, though." It seemed vitally important that he know. I tilted my face toward his, all warm shadows in the winter gloom. "No matter what else is going on, you make me happy. And I want to let you make me happy. I'm not always very good at it." My breath felt heavier, misted the s.p.a.ce between us.

Music had always been my comfort, and Sam before I knew him. His compositions, his playing, his singing. But that happiness had been distant. Someone else's life. I'd imagined a world away from Purple Rose Cottage, but it was the faraway imagining, knowing it would never be my life.

And then it was mine. Sam came, giving me music and happiness of my own. The life I'd always wanted suddenly happened, and trying to fit that with my old life was proving more difficult than I'd antic.i.p.ated.

I kept expecting to wake up.

Like he understood everything I hadn't said, Sam kissed me. His mouth was warm and gentle, and his fingers soft against the back of my neck. "I wish I could give you all the time you needed to get used to happiness. Lifetimes, if necessary. I'd wait eternity for you to figure it out."

We didn't have eternity. I hoped I didn't need that long, anyway. I'd feel really stupid.

"You make me happy, too." He kissed my lips. My nose. My chin. My forehead. "You make me feela"everything."

My heart beat triple time when he kissed me again. With him, I could be happy forever.

Or at least for the single life I'd been given.

I drew back. "What if Janan actually were going to keep reincarnating people?"

Sam said nothing, but his silence was telling. He didn't want to die. No one did. Because what happened after? Where did you go when you died forever? What did you do?

"Right before the rededication ceremony last year, you and Stef were talking about choices. You said you were glad you didn't have to choose between Ciana and me, because how could anyone choose between two people they care about? You told me later that if you had a choice, if what you wanted counted for anything, you'd have chosen me."

"I still mean that. I will always choose you."

"I believe you." I closed my eyes and let him embrace me, trying not to think about what he and the others had decided five thousand years ago, that they'd willingly exchanged newsouls for their immortality.

Five thousand years ago, they'd all chosen themselves.

"Sarit thinks Janan will keep reincarnating oldsouls because he'll want people to rule over. What's the point of being powerful and immortal if you're all alone?"

Sam nodded. "I suppose anything is possible, but like Stef and Cris said: Janan wouldn't share power."

"But Meuric was desperate for the key. He said he needed the key to survive."

"He was also crazy when he said that, wasn't he? From pain? And being terrified of Janan? He'd been trapped in the temple for months." Sam didn't sound sorry for Meuric, but the knowledge of what I'd sentenced the former Speaker to was heavy. "Maybe," Sam went on, "all he meant was that Janan would kill him if he didn't have the key, because he'd have failed. Or if he had the key, Janan would heal him. Who knows what he thought would happen?"

I stared at my boots, sorting out thoughts and feelings, and how to ask for help without letting him see how torn my insides really were. "What would you do?" I whispered. "Only a few of us really understand that Janan isn't going to keep reincarnating people once he ascends. Sarit said everyone else will see my actions as a choice between oldsouls and newsouls."

"And?"

"What if it were a choice? What would you do?"

Only the burble of water over rocks answered. Sam stared into the dim forest as snow began drifting through the skeletal branches above.

"I'm not testing you," I said at last. "I'm not looking for a certain answer. I wouldn't want to be responsible for reincarnation or whether someone gets to live. You've lived so long, though. I was hoping you might have some wisdom to share."

"I know your question wasn't a test. I was just thinking about it." He caressed my cheek, and his gloved fingertips came to rest under my chin. Soft wool brushed my skin, almost a kiss, and Sam leaned so close until all I could see were his eyes. His voice was low and rough. "I would choose you. Every time. No matter what."

My heart thumped, suddenly feeling too big for my ribs to cage it.

"That's probably a very selfish answer," he went on, "but it's the truth. When I consider the potential consequences of any scenario, I ask what would become of you, and could we be together? Any result that doesn't involve at least one very long life with you isn't an option for me. I've lived a hundred lifetimes, Ana. I've loved before, been lonely, ached for what I couldn't have. I've always made sure to fill every lifetime with what I can, because I've seen others grow complacent and weary. I've seen them move from living to existing. I've been tempted down that path myself, because it sometimes looks easier than this constant caring and trying to grow and change and be more than I am.

"I've also lived long enough to understand that there are few things more important than being with the people you care about most. And that's you, Ana. What good is reincarnation if I don't have you? What good is stopping Janan if I don't have you? Whatever it took, whatever choice I needed to make to keep us togethera"that's what I would choose."

Before I could find any kind of response, Sam's mouth was on mine and the world fell away. He kissed me, making the tingle in my stomach brighten into a flutter and pulse. I kissed him with everything in me, and his hands were on my face, pushing back my hood, combing through my hair. He kissed my throat and tugged at the collar of my coat as though to reach my shoulder, too.

I ached for him. I ached for his touches, his kisses, for lifetimes of loving him.

Heat surged through me as Sam laid me back, cradling my head and the small of my back until I was lying on the flat of the rock, hair spilling everywhere. He leaned over me, caressing my face, my sides, my hips, and when our eyes met, there was something raw and bare in them. Yearning. Desire. Was that what he saw in my eyes, too?

A deer crashed through the forest and Sam's breath heaved, white mist on the air as he glanced around, seeming to remember we were outside. "Five minutes alone and I'm already trying to undress you." He touched my stomach, shooting sparks through me, and nodded to where my coat hung open around me.

I struggled to catch my breath. "It's been more like fifteen or twenty minutes." I shivered, both from his touch and the icy air. "And if it weren't so cold, and we weren't outside, I'd encourage this."

Sam zipped up my coat for me. "I suddenly find myself very bitter about the weather, the fact that we're stuck out in it if we want to be alone, and this entire situation in general. There are so many other things we could be doing instead."

I didn't move from where I was lying on the rock, even though cold radiated through my coat, chilling my back. My body still hummed with his touch, the ache he'd awakened inside me. "Very bitter." First chance we got, though, I would take it. Somewhere alone, inside, and warm. And minus the rock.

While we watched snow spiral down into the stream, I thought about his words, what he'd said, how any decision for him would come down to whether he could be with the person he loved. With me.

What an amazing feeling.

"Did you bring your flute for the sylph?" he asked, after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah." I pushed myself up. "I thought they might like it if you played."

"Me?" He held the flute case gently, reverently.

"You haven't played for me in weeks. I'm sure you need to practice."

He chuckled and pulled the flute from the case, making the length of silver seem so small and delicate. He held the flute like a precious thing.

"Is your hand up for it?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Then play for me." I scooted over to give him elbow room. "Play for the sylph. I haven't yet found a song they don't like."

"Songs have words," he muttered automatically, his breath hissing over the mouthpiece. He warmed up with a series of long notes, scales, and rhythm exercises, and then he readied to play.

Gurgling water provided percussion, and the susurrus of wind made harmony. Sam gave nature a moment before he started with a low note, a haunting vibrato, and a deep melody that might have been something I'd dreamt.

Whenever the world shifted, his music did, too. A splash downstream lightened the mood, and the tune turned hopeful; a wolf howling eastward brought back the haunting tones. Gusts of wind seemed menacing, the way he played. When I closed my eyes, I wasn't sure who led the music: Sam or nature. It seemed like he might be conducting all of it, even the breeze and falling snow. And when my throat vibrated with humming countermelody, I was ready to believe Sam had some kind of magic.

I didn't know the music, though my heart ached with it, and antic.i.p.ated the next note even though I shouldn't have known.

Only when unearthly moaning joined in did I startle back into myself. Sam ceased playing, as though he'd reached the end of the melody anyway, like the sylph had arrived just on time, just how he'd intended.

"That was amazing," I whispered.

Sam said nothing about it, as though he spontaneously composed music with nature all the time.

Heat spread around the area. Snow sizzled as it drifted through sylph, and the creek steamed where a few sylph had to crowd in. Funny, only a minute ago it had been so cold I couldn't feel my ears.

One sylph floated toward us, eerie in the deepening gloom, and identified himself with a black rose.

Seeing Cris like this made my stomach clench. He was nothing like the tall young man I'd met at Purple Rose Cottage only a few months ago. He'd been all sharp angles and big smiles. He'd built greenhouses to grow roses all year around, cared for squirrels and chipmunks, creatures others would call pests.

He'd saved Stef and me.

He didn't have eyes to meet, but I turned up my chin and tried anyway. "I understood what you were saying last night."

All the sylph hummed hopefully.

"We want to hear everything," Sam said. "Starting with what you told Ana last night. That you're her army. Why? How?"

I frowned at him. There were more important things to ask the sylpha"but maybe not to him.

Their song made me think of winter, cold and running and leaping. Trills and whistles, urging sounds like deceptively pleasant nightmares. The sylph songs smothered the night; not even the creek dared interrupt.

It took some sorting out to understand them. It wasn't easy, though I was learning.

"One at a time." My voice seemed harsh after the dulcet sylph songs. "Speak one at a time. I can't understand all of you at once."

Cris hmmed and came forward. -I was gone for so long because I was searching for the others.- At last. Communication. "You brought them all together to be my army?"

He nodded. -When I left Heart, a few sylph found me. They befriended me, and I told them everything I knew. They told me they'd been watching you your entire life. They've been waiting for you.- "Waiting for me to do what?" I stared at my knees. I couldn't look at Cris and the others. Even now, I sensed them watching me.

-To stop Janan.-

13.

BEFORE.

WHAT MADE THEM think I could do anything?

-For a long time, sylph hoped you would come. They hoped you would see the truth about Janan. After thousands of years, many gave up that belief, but when they discovered you in Purple Rose Cottage, the news spread to all the sylph.- "I don't understand."

-Phoenixes cursed the sylph. The only way to break the curse is to stop Janan from ascending. However, sylph are incapable of doing this on their own.- "That doesn't seem like a very fair curse."

Cris trilled, like a laugh, and the others burned a little hotter. -No. But the phoenixes told them about the possibility of a newsoul, someone who could break the curse by stopping Janan. And all the sylph swore they would do anything to find this soul, keep it safe. They would do anything necessary to gain their redemption.- Redemption. A theory tugged at me, but I'd think about it later.

-When you were an infant, all the sylph traps were removed from Purple Rose Cottage.- Sam and I exchanged glances. "Li did it?" he asked. "Hoping Ana would *accidentally' be killed by a sylph?"

Shadows rippled. Nods.

-But they knew you were different. They protected you. They kept your room warm in the winter, and siphoned out heat in the summer. They sang you to sleep when you cried.- It seemed crazy, but Cris wouldn't lie to me, and I had frequently dreamt of warm shadows. Maybe they hadn't been dreams, after all.

"What about the attack on her birthday?" Sam asked. "And the day after, when a sylph burned her hands?"

-The sylph wanted to communicate. They saw Ana leave the cottage, saw that she was leaving for good. They thought she was ready to help stop Janan, so they followed and tried to sing with her. Instead she got scared and ran. If they'd wanted to hurt her, they would have done it while she was sleeping.- "But they chased me."

Cris shrank a little. -They got excited. After you threw yourself off a cliff to escape, they realized you'd been frightened. So the next day, they sent only one sylph. But then you wanted revenge and tried to trap their messenger, who was afraid of you by then. The intent was never to burn you. It was an accident.- The song sounded pleading, but too easily I could remember running between trees and dodging brush. Nearly a year later, I could still feel my heart pounding with the terror, and still feel the inferno in my hands where they'd been burned.

It had been a long and awful recovery, and I'd spent months terrified of sylph. I'd worried they were after me, like dragons seemed to focus on Sam.

And all along they'd wanted to be my friend? They'd wanted me to save them?

"Is that why sylph allowed Menehem to experiment on them for so long?" I knotted my fingers together. "And why they chose not to burn him the day he discovered the poison? Because they wanted him to keep working?"

The shadows rippled again. a.s.sent.

"Did it hurt?" The question was out before I realized.

A shudder ran through the ranks of sylph.

My voice thinned, barely a voice at all. "I'm sorry."

One by one, sylph leaned close, brushed dry heat across my face. Nothing burned. It felt only like walking into a summer-baked room, sunlight all around.

Melancholy whispers made me think of leagues and leagues of golden sand, wind-rippled dunes like snowdrifts. They gave me images of turquoise water and heat-shimmering air, strange trees with wide fronds and peeling bark. Lizards scampered everywhere, giant turtles, flocks of white birds screeching. Sylph voices rushed and hissed like waves on the beach.

When they pulled back, I sighed and shivered. I wasn't sure what that had been. A gift, maybe? But now that it was over, the cold air snaked in, even through the sylph.

"What else can you tell us?" I asked Cris.

He rippled in a way that might have been a shrug. -The books you're trying to read are phoenix books. The others can help you with possible translations for symbols, but deciphering what the books actually saya"that's up to you.- "And the phoenixes? You said they saw the possibility of me. How?"

-Phoenixes don't experience time like we do. They see things all at once. They see possibilities.- "They see the future?"

Cris gave a frustrated keen. -No. They see possibilities. Like you can see water in the creek. It's always moving. You can see what it's doing right now. Perhaps it will trickle into the ground later, or evaporate, or join a larger stream. Even if you knew the course of the stream, there's still a possibility of something outside happening to the water, like being lapped up by an animal. There are a hundred possibilities. Phoenixes see those.- It still only made half sense to me, but I nodded.

Sam frowned. "It sounds as if these phoenixes are very powerful. They see possibilities, they curse sylph, they can build prisons to hold Janan and his alliesa""

All the sylph hissed and grew hot, but Cris didn't explain their reaction. I had suspicions, though.

Sam said more carefully, "If the phoenixes have all this power and they want Janan to fail, why don't they help? Why leave it up to sylph and one newsoul?"