"No."

"I was."

"It's getting harder and harder to justify what he's doing, isn't it?" she asked. It sounded better than just saying: I told you so.

"Justifying what he's done isn't the problem," Misha replied thoughtfully. "It's trying to imagine how he's done it that gives me a headache. And it's not just his political machinations that leave me gasping.

He's only nineteen years old, Tia. Most boys his age are only interested in girls. Are you sure he didn't discover some magical talisman up there in Omaxin he's using to bend the world to his will? It doesn't seem possible he's doing it without some sort of supernatural intervention."

"Dirk is working so fast because he's no longer burdened by all the things that slow decent people down, like morals or conscience, Misha. There's no magic involved."

"Perhaps..." He shrugged, not entirely convinced. "One thing is certain. When all this is over, I'd very much like to have a talk with that young man."

"You'll have to get in line, I'm afraid," she warned. "And there wouldn't be much point because the first few dozen ahead of you will probably kill him."

"Your a.s.sa.s.sin has had no luck then?"

Tia shook her head. She couldn't understand that either. "We'll know more when Reithan gets here, I suppose."

When Misha didn't answer her, she glanced at him in concern.

"Are you all right?"He held out his hands. He was visibly trembling.

"It's going to be another long night, I fear," he said, trying to mask the pain with a smile.

"Can I get you something?"

"The only thing I want is the last thing I need, Tia. Dear G.o.ddess, this gets harder and harder."

"Master Helgin says you're doing very well."

"He also uses that delightfully tempting phrase: manageable addiction. On nights like this, I start to think about that. A lot."

"You've come so far, Misha. Don't give in now."

He forced a smile. "How easy it is for you to sit there and be sympathetic. Not that I don't appreciate it, mind you. It's just..." He stopped to take a deep breath. "It's just that it doesn't really help much to be told how well I'm doing by someone who's fit and whole and has no concept of what this feels like."

"I can go if you want to be alone," she offered, a little hurt.

"No, don't go. I'd like you to stay." He closed his eyes and took another few deep breaths to try to control the shivering. "I need you to stay. Talk to me."

"About what?"

"Anything. Just give me something else to think about."

"Well... Oscon is teaching Mellie to ride," she told him, a little worried. Sweat beaded his forehead and he had wrapped his arms around his body as if he was suddenly chilled.

"I'll bet... she's enjoying that."

"So is Oscon. He bl.u.s.ters around a lot and pretends to be a grumpy old man, but I think it's mostly for show. Either that, or Mellie's worn him down. He's really quite fond of her."

"It's those big brown eyes," Misha said, forcing a laugh. "They're irresistible."

"I never really noticed."

"Trust me, Tia. Melliandra Thorn is destined to break quite a few hearts before she's done."

Tia didn't like the sound of that. "Misha, I hope you're not thinking that perhaps you and Mellie? ..."

He was rocking back and forth concentrating on anything but the pain. "Me and Mellie? G.o.ddess!

What a... terrifying thought!"

"Why is it terrifying? She's a princess. You're a prince..."

"I'm also... twelve years her senior and a crippled... drug addict, Tia. I wouldn't inflict myself... on her, even if she wanted me, which she doesn't." He hesitated for a moment, almost doubled over with the pain. Then he forced a weak smile. "Besides, fond... of her as I am, she's not... my type."

"And what exactly is your type?" Tia asked, starting to wonder if she should fetch Master Helgin.

She'd not seen him this bad before.

"I find myself growing quite attached to... Oh G.o.ddess!" he suddenly cried out.

"What's wrong?"

"My leg..." he gasped. The muscles contracted violently and his left leg jerked involuntarily. It was as if some invisible hand was testing his reflexes with a sledgehammer. Tia jumped from the step and knelt on the sand in front of him. She pushed up the loose cotton trouser leg and began to ma.s.sage his calf, trying to stretch the muscles out, which brought another howl of pain from him."Your cures are worse... than what you're trying to cure," he rasped. "Are you...sure you can't do it any harder? There must...be...at least one spot you...missed turning into...a bruise."

"You're doing fine if you can still complain about it, Misha." She kept ma.s.saging until she was certain the jerking was under control and then knelt back on her heels in the sand and looked up at him with a frown. "I think I should fetch Master Helgin."

Misha shook his head. "There's nothing he can do for me you're not already... doing. Unless you'd rather not stay."

"I don't mind staying."

Misha smiled at her weakly. "I'd have given in long ago if not for you."

"I haven't done anything special. All this has been your doing, Misha."

"You believe in me. Even when I don't believe in myself. Dirk's an idiot."

"What's Dirk Provin got to do with it?" she asked with a scowl.

"He's an idiot for not realizing what he had in you, Tia. And he's a d.a.m.ned fool for throwing it away."

Tia didn't know how to answer him.

"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly contrite. "I shouldn't have brought Dirk up. I know how much it hurts you."

She shook her head. "No, you don't."

"Perhaps I don't," he conceded, shivering as if caught in a blizzard. "But I do think you're getting over him."

"I got over him about two seconds after he handed me over to Belagren, Misha."

"Really?" he asked with a raised brow.

"Really," she repeated, with a surprising amount of confidence. When he still looked skeptical, she shrugged. "The rest of it was mostly anger at myself for being so stupid. I've been thinking about what you said, you know-about becoming a bitter old woman. You're right. He shouldn't be allowed to do that to me. I refuse to let him."

"So you're not in love with him anymore?"

"I don't know if I ever was, Misha," she admitted, surprised at how much better it made her feel to finally share it with someone. "I think I was in love with the idea of Dirk Provin, not who he really is.

He's Johan's son. Even after everything I saw him do, I still wanted to believe there was something of Johan in him."

"And there isn't?"

"If there is anything of his father in him, it's all the bad bits I never saw Johan display. And then we spent all that time alone together, and he seemed so anxious to find out when the next Age of Shadows was due... well, he was anxious, I suppose, but not for the reasons I imagined."

Misha was silent for a time as he fought off another wave of pain. "Can I ask you something?" he said, when he was recovered enough to speak.

"If you must."

"Suppose someday you find out Dirk really didn't betray you, Tia? Suppose you discovered he was really just doing all these terrible things to destroy the Church. What would you do then?"

"That's your delusion, Misha, not mine.""Humor me. Suppose my delusion isn't a delusion? What would you do?"

"Drop dead from the shock," she replied with a thin smile.

"Would you go back to him?"

"The last time I saw Dirk Provin, I put an arrow in him, Misha. Even if your wild hypothesis were true-which it isn't, I hasten to add-I don't think there's much of a chance Dirk and I will ever be friends again, let alone anything else."

Oddly enough, her answer seemed to please him. "Well, in a way, I'm glad. I'd probably be dead by now if I hadn't met you at the Hospice in Tolace."

"Keep bringing the subject of Dirk Provin up and you will be," she warned, smiling to take the sting from her words.

"Are you afraid of nothing?"

"n.o.body's afraid of nothing unless they're a complete fool."

"Tell me what you're afraid of, then."

"Why?"

"Because right now I'm afraid I won't make it through the night. I need to know I'm not alone."

"I'm scared of the dark," she admitted with a shrug, not sure how such an admission would help him.

"I can't imagine that."

"And yet you can imagine Dirk is doing something n.o.ble. What a strange imagination you have."

He smiled, but Tia could tell it took an effort. "You wouldn't believe... some of the strange things... I daydream about."

"Are you sure you don't want me to fetch Helgin?" she asked with concern.

He shook his head and held out his trembling hands to her. "Stay with me."

"I will, Misha," she promised, humbled by his quiet courage. She took his hands and squeezed them encouragingly. "Always."

Chapter 39.

Jacinta delivered the news that the Tsarina was heading into port while Alenor was still having breakfast in her room. The little queen sat propped up in bed with a tray on her lap that almost groaned under the weight of food. Alenor ate doggedly, obviously unenthusiastic about the task. Sitting beside her on the bed was a plump gray cat, eyeing the contents of her plate with a hopeful expression.

"Do you think it's Kirsh?" she asked through a mouthful of toast, looking rather alarmed by the prospect.

Alenor had been home just for long enough to start taking control of things. Her seal remained lost, so she was able to delay signing the alarming number of laws and proclamations that Kirsh's Senetian advisers had drawn up in her absence. The stalling tactic had proved very effective but it would mean nothing if the regent had returned. He had his own seal and until Alenor came of age, it far outweighed her authority."I've a bad feeling it might be," Jacinta said, walking to the window. She looked down over the sea crashing against the cliffs far below them, but the harbor wasn't visible from the palace.

"But that means his guard will be with him. Alexin is coming home."

"Yes," Jacinta sighed. "Alexin will be coming home. And if you've any sense at all, Allie, you'll post him to the other side of Dhevyn for a while. Kirsh will still be on the lookout. You can't risk so much as a sideways glance at him."

Alenor nodded in reluctant agreement. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, the first thing we're going to do is not panic," Jacinta declared, turning back to Alenor. "The second thing you're going to do is finish your breakfast. And the third thing you're going to do is get up and get dressed and greet your husband as if you're actually glad to see him."

"He won't believe that," the queen scoffed.

"No, but it's important his advisers do."

"You know, Jacinta," Alenor noted with a slight frown, "I think you actually enjoy all this dastardly intrigue and court politics."

"Well, it's more interesting than fending off unwanted husbands," she replied with a smile. "Eat the sausage, too, Allie. Red meat is good for you."

"I should find you a husband," Alenor threatened. "Someone old and ugly and warty with a lecherous drool and scabby skin and a really foul body odor."

"None of which would bother me in the slightest if he had half a brain," Jacinta announced airily, sitting on the bed beside her. "Now finish your breakfast or I'll have you force fed. And don't let me catch you feeding that d.a.m.ned cat, either. You spoil her shamelessly."

"You're worse than Dorra," the queen accused through a mouthful of eggs. "If I keep eating like this I'll get fat."

"You could do with some fat on you," Jacinta told her. "You're nothing but skin and bones. I don't know what Alexin sees in you."

"Jacinta!" Alenor hissed. "Don't say such things."