Hello everyone! I'm back from that unintentional hiatus. I'm really sorry I didn't make a note or something, but school got the better of me again. Anyway, here's a new chapter and I hope the wait might be worth it.

Chapter Twenty

"I saw her, standing there in her finery, smirking at us," said Silvia, running a hand through her hair. "The look on her face…it wasn't even Maerad. It was just some creature of the Dark who looked like her. It was awful."

Cadvan watched Silvia sadly, but her words meant very little to him. He knew all this. What more can I give her that will distract her from the Nameless One? She knows that I love her, she knows I would spend the rest of my life with her. She knows…

"It was like she hardly knew me," Silvia continued.

"But she knew you!" Indik urged. "She hadn't forgotten you, so the Dark hadn't taken that from her."

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Silvia sighed. "There's nothing I can give her that would change her a bit. She thought that maybe I might come visit her someday, but she didn't say when, or even why."

"But it's something," Malgorn said hearteningly.

"It's nothing," Silvia snapped. "She barely spoke to me for five minutes. She just rode off when she was done with me. What do you make of that?"

"It's bad, but not awful…"

"Is she always like this?" Silvia asked the room, though it was obvious her question was directed at Saliman and Cadvan. "Is she always so cold?"

Cadvan frowned, still thinking of what the Nameless One had ordered, so Saliman spoke. "She holds most people at a distance, so it is unsurprising that she responded thus to you."

"Most people?" Silvia pushed. "Who is not most people?"

Saliman nudged Cadvan, who finally glanced up. "I would imagine me."

"You're her teacher, her traveling companion, of course she thinks of you differently. But are you the only one?" Silvia looked between Cadvan and Saliman. "Is there more to this than I know?"

"Silvia-" Cadvan began, but she cut him off.

"You've been keeping secrets?" she hissed. "This entire time we've been trying to break the Dark's hold over her and you're keeping secrets!"

"It's not what you think," Cadvan said gently.

"Perhaps we ought to be the judge of that, Cadvan," said Malgorn. "We have so little to go on, so little to plan with, and you keep more information from us?"

Cadvan narrowed his eyes. "It's my own personal business, Malgorn, and mine to do with as I please."

"Anything concerning Maerad is not personal," Malgorn returned. "It's a matter of utmost importance. It could determine the future of us and the rest of the Bards."

"It could not make any difference now," Cadvan denied, looking away.

"What is it?" Silvia said again, and this time, she knelt down before him so he could not avoid her gaze. Her frown softened and Cadvan realized that her anger was born of despair. She loved Maerad, and to see the girl she thought of as a daughter look down her nose at Silvia must have been painful. "What is it?"

Cadvan sighed. "She loves me, Silvia, but it hardly matters."

"She loves you? Of course she loves you!" Silvia laughed. "What is different about this?"

"She is in love with me." Cadvan waited for Silvia to speak and when she didn't, he looked to Saliman to help.

"It's not totally unexpected," Saliman said quickly. "You-well you were the one who rescued her from that cot, and you were her mentor, you took her everywhere. She must have had feelings for you, love or not."

Silvia was staring at Cadvan, trying to read his face. "How do you know for sure?"

Cadvan smiled sheepishly. "You mean besides all the kissing?"

"Cadvan!" Silvia gasped, and lurched back on her heels

"But that's not the point," Cadvan said in a rush. "The point is that she doesn't care. She loves me, but it changes nothing. She remains just as hard and cruel as before."

"Then it's for naught," said Malgorn after a long pause. "All of this…everything we're trying to accomplish, everyone we're trying to save, it doesn't matter. She's not going to change."

"No!" Cadvan cried suddenly. He sat up straighter, his eyes wide and desperate. "No, she's not lost. I won't lose her."

Silvia glanced at Malgorn, her eyes immeasurably sad. "What is there left?"

"I'm trying to think-to think of something that might help," Cadvan said, running a hand through his hair. He was thinking of his dreams and Ardina. "I just need more time with her."

Indik laughed darkly. "Well, that's certainly something you'll always have. As it stands, none of us are going anywhere."

Cadvan shot him a frown. "I can fix this."

"Oh, Cadvan," Silvia murmured, sinking down before him and cupping his face in her hands. "Maybe…maybe it's not meant to be. Maybe this isn't something we can fix."

Cadvan stared, mouth agape. "How can you say that?" he finally stuttered. "How can you say that about Maerad?"

"How can she not?" Malgorn snapped, seeing the hurt on Silvia's face. "Look what has become of her. You said yourself that love was the answer, but it wasn't. It didn't do anything."

"It could just take more time," Cadvan argued, but it sounded weak. When Malgorn and Silvia exchanged quick, sympathetic looks, Cadvan temper flared. "I don't care what you think, I won't leave Maerad to this."

"How can you fix her?" Silvia asked gently. "She seems completely consumed with a desire to serve the Nameless One. She's hardly the girl we knew-"

"She is the same, she's just being charmed by the Dark!" Cadvan hissed. "I want to help her. I will."

"There's simply no way-" Indik began, but Cadvan silenced him with a look.

"I will make this better. I'll make this right."

Silence met these words, and though Cadvan knew it was sympathetic in nature, he didn't want any of it. With a furious look at his companions, he rose unsteadily on his feet and stumbled to his room. Collapsing on the bed, Cadvan closed his eyes and tried to think. He tried to think of the Nameless One, of what he had said…

Maerad is becoming independent of him. She'll be free from his power soon…It's the Song, it's always the Song.

So she was escaping the Nameless One. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it certainly worried Cadvan that whatever she would next become, it would be far worse. He tried to recall what Ardina had said, that he couldn't ignore what she had become, but how could he not? How could he put aside what she was when it defined their struggle?

Love will make the Song whole, and love will free her. Cadvan ran his hands through his hair. I need to love her for what she is.

"Perhaps we can put the books aside and take the air?" Cadvan wondered, watching Maerad carefully. She was seated in a chair, the arms and back heavily padded, slouching as she read a book.

Slowly, she looked up from her book and raised her eyebrows at him. "Are you encouraging me to ignore my studies?"

"It must be done every now and then," Cadvan said as seriously as he could.

"You were never this willing to put aside lessons before." Maerad flashed a smile. "I like it so much more."

"I aim to please," Cadvan returned, and stood up, tossing the book carelessly aside.

Maerad rose up languidly, feeling Cadvan's eyes on her; she felt a thrill of power and excitement in knowing that Cadvan was watching her. "Your arm, sir?" Maerad asked playfully.

Cadvan tipped his head and held his arm out. Maerad tucked her had in the crook of his elbow and Cadvan began to meander to the garden. In the sun light, Maerad was even more stunning: her hair tumbled freely down her back in a thick, black waterfall, her eyes were like sapphires set in a pale, glowing face, and as she moved, her robes fluttered in the breeze. Cadvan could feel her pulse in the crook of his elbow and he swallowed loud.

"It's lovely out here," he said as the silence between them stretched out.

"The weather? We're going to talk about the weather?" Maerad asked with a trilling laugh. "We have the day to spend speaking over anything and everything, and you start with the weather?"

"You've left me speechless," Cadvan said charmingly. "What else could I possibly be when I'm with you?"

"Now you try to charm me," Maerad said wryly. "I live with a snake! A smiling, charming snake!"

"Careful little bird," Cadvan warned.

Maerad flashed him a toothy grin. "Careful of what? You, Cadvan?"

"Your tone is quite is insulting," he said in warm tone. It was disconcerting, to say the least, to walk hand in hand with Maerad and know that this woman wasn't the one he loved. He often found himself watching her, loving her, admiring her. It was so much easier to just forget. "But I'll forgive you if you play me a song."

Dark blue eyes shifted slowly in his direction, a smile turned her lips up. "I certainly can't have you angry with me."

They meandered slowly along the path and paused at a break in the flowers. It was a small outcrop surrounded entirely by rose bushes that were growing up the trunks of trees. In the cove, there was a stone day bed, covered in the softest moss, and before the bed was a pool of water so clear it looked like a glass sheet. Cadvan paused, for he didn't recall this place and he had taken every turn around the garden in the last few months.

"Where are we?" he asked as Maerad loosened her hand from his and approached the day bed. "I don't remember this place."

"Perhaps it is new," said Maerad carelessly. She waved her hand in the air in a graceful circle and her lyre appeared there. "This garden is alive in its own way; I wouldn't be surprised if it changed on its own."

Cadvan ventured farther into the alcove. "But the bench…"

"Oh, what of it, Cadvan?" Maerad asked airily. "It's just a garden. Let it be."

Though a part of him was curious as to how a garden could grow its own bench and pool, when he looked to Maerad to mention this, she turned just so and the shadows of the trees above dappled her face beautifully. He felt his mouth go dry.

"Come here, Cadvan," she said gently, settling herself on the daybed. She began plucking a tune listlessly. "I promise, the trees won't hurt you."

Cadvan joined Maerad, still staring at the rose bushes that waved gently in the breeze. Maerad sank back onto the daybed, resting her head on the pillow and her eyes on Cadvan. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't think they would, but when I see you watching me like that…I must admit, I get nervous."

"Watching you?" Maerad wondered, picking at strings randomly now. "I'm not watching you."

"I can feel your eyes one me even now." Cadvan shivered when he saw Maerad look away from him because he knew just a moment before she had been peeking up at him. "Even when you're not watching me."

"I always know," said Maerad softly, meditatively. "I always know what you're doing now. I can feel you."

"Can you?" Cadvan wondered if she could read his thoughts. He hoped not.

Maerad nodded her head. "Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, I know it. I can reach out and touch your mind if I wanted. I don't, of course, because you are my friend, but I know you're there. You and I, we have a connection."

"I was your mentor a long time, Maerad. It's no surprise we might be able to communicate so well."

Maerad stopped playing. "It's more than that, though." She turned to face him and he was taken by her sharp beauty. Slowly, she reached her hand up and placed it upon his heart. "Your heart beats, and I know it. Each breath you take, I hear it. I won't lose you again, I can promise you that."

"Loss me?"

"On that pass," Maerad said ruefully. "When the storm hit us and the Winter King sent his beasts to separate us. I lost you then, and never had I felt such awful pain."

"I didn't know I mattered that much to you," Cadvan said gently, wondering if this was the real Maerad or the creature of the Dark.

"Yes, you did," said Maerad starkly. "You knew I cared for you, and I mourned you for so many months…Never again, Cadvan. I won't lost you now."

"I'll stay with you," he said, leaning closer, watching the light reflect off her eyes. "I'll stay here."

Maerad had stopped playing, and one of her idle hands reached up and brushed the strings on his shirt, running over his chest. Cadvan drew a sharp breath. "Prove it."

Mouth dry, Cadvan closed the distance between them, and kissed Maerad. He felt a rush of heat as Maerad's hands inched up his shoulders and pressed down on his back, drawing him closer to her. He transferred all his weight onto his hands, not wanting to lie on top of her, but Maerad's fingers scraped against his skin and he drew a sharp breath.

"Maerad-"

"You love me. You said it once, and I asked you to prove it." Maerad inhaled sharply and she caught the scent of Cadvan. He smelled like strange metal, like something cold and desolate; it shocked her, for Maerad remembered him smelling of wood smoke and spice. She drew back a little. "Prove it," she said uncertainly.

Cadvan carefully positioned himself so that his knees were on either side of hers and his upper body was supported entirely by his hands. He remembered Ardina again and tried to see past Maerad's calm, beautiful face, tried to see to her very soul. "I can't prove it to you. You have to believe me when I say that I love you. I love you no matter what."

Maerad inhaled again and the smell of him overcame her; it left her senses blunted, like she had drank too much wine. "I can't believe you, I can barely think."

Cadvan chuckled and his laughter seemed far away. "Listen to my heart beat," he commanded gently. "Feel my hands."

Maerad tipped her head back and concentrated on Cadvan's heart. It was smooth, for all the torment of the past few months, it was smooth. Like a drum that constantly beat a rhythm for her to focus on. It helped clear her thoughts, but it only concentrated her attention on him. Maerad was so drawn to the sound of Cadvan's heart beat that when his hand touched her, she jumped. First, one hand brushed her face, her neck, her shoulder. She shivered and Cadvan paused, but she placed her hand on his and pressed it back against her.

"Do you trust me?"

Maerad sighed. "Yes."

Cadvan smiled when he said, "Then prove it."

Carefully, like the old Maerad would have, she placed her palms flat on Cadvan's chest. He hummed low in his throat and his entire chest vibrated. She ran her hands over his chest and the shirt tugged up; sweetly, like a young woman that she was, Maerad smiled.

Cadvan bit his lip. She wants this. She isn't afraid. Cadvan levered his weight back on his knees and, with both hands free, ran them along her hips. He watched her response with hawk like eyes, waiting to see if she would stiffen. If she was scared.

She wasn't. Cadvan tucked his head and began kissing her shoulder; Maerad sighed and he felt her pulse jump. It was unfolding like every dream he'd ever amused himself with. He kissed her, she wrapped her arms around him enthusiastically, they continued into blissful oblivion. He imagined she would be shy, uncertain, but she would trust him, and he would never betray her trust in him.

She's not exactly shy, is she? Cadvan asked himself, when Maerad drew his lips up to hers and deepened the kiss. She's as forward as any woman I've ever met. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Cadvan found nothing wrong with a bold woman, but it wasn't Maerad.

"Cadvan, what's wrong?" she asked against his lips when he paused. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," said Cadvan in a voice he meant to be careless, but Maerad must have heard the note of trepidation in his voice.

"No, it isn't, and I won't have you lying to me," Maerad warned, leaned back a little so she could see all of Cadvan's face. "You've gone cold. What is it?"

"Maerad, I'm not lying I'm just-"

"Liar!" snarled Maerad suddenly, shoving him back. She sat up as he fell back to the opposite side of the daybed. "Here we are, entwined in each other's arms, and I find you lying to me."

"I haven't."

"I told you I could read your mind and heart." Maerad crossed her arms and her eyes flashed. "Your heart wasn't true."

Cadvan faltered. Of course his heart wasn't true, how could it be? "Maerad, I love you. You know that is true."

"Not with all your heart and soul," she growled. Something painful entered her eyes. "Is this some cruel ploy? Some plot? Are you still serving those Bards? What was their plan, Cadvan, to distract me with you and then attack when my guard was down?"

Cadvan bit back his next response. "Have you learned nothing from the long months we spent together? I was your teacher, your friend, and, if you would let me be, your lover. Maerad, I would never hurt you. "

"Everyone seeks to hurt me," Maerad hissed, and she stood up. She tossed her mussed hair back, revealing a furious look. "I can trust no one, not even you, Cadvan!"

"Please, believe me-" Cadvan jumped to his feet. He wouldn't lose her again. "I love you, Maerad, but you frighten me sometimes. You don't understand how powerful you are."

"Ha!" Maerad spun around and looked out over her garden kingdom. "I know how powerful I am. How can I forget? Every day, every night, every moment I am cursed by my power to know I am alone." Something in her seemed to shrink and when she faced Cadvan, her eyes were shadowed. "I thought you might see through that, I thought you might see me, but…I was wrong."

"No." Cadvan leapt at her, caught her hand, but she shook it free. "Don't say those things. You're not alone, not so long as you have me."

Maerad sneered at him. "I won't be alone."

"I'll stay with you," Cadvan said thoughtlessly. He could hear her slipping away from him, see her moving far beyond his reach. "Please, Maerad, don't send me away."

"Send you away?" Maerad laughed. "I won't be alone, not again." She prowled slowly forward and suddenly, Cadvan felt very small. He felt like a rabbit feels when the wolf stalks it; he felt as though Maerad would pounce. "But I won't suffer you to lie to me. Perhaps the Lord of the Light was right, perhaps you aren't to be trusted. Your kind are sneaks and thieves and liars."

"My kind?" Cadvan asked.

"Mortal," she growled. "A Bard. A Man. What have you? There is truly only one way to deal with creatures such as you, as the Lord of Light said."

Cadvan wished desperately that he had his Gift then, but he doubted it would have made much difference with Maerad bearing down on him. "What did he say?"

"You must earn trust, and I was fool to give it to you." She looked around the small outcrop, eyes alighting on the rosebushes. "You must earn it now."

"Maerad-" But his words were cut off when she waved her hand at him and something slithered up around his ankles. Looking down horrified, Cadvan saw that a vine of the rosebush had wrapped itself firmly about his ankles and was creeping up his leg. "Maerad, don't!"

Too late. The rosebush yanked and Cadvan crashed to the ground. Once he was down, the rosebush sent out more of its vine, these with thorns, to wrap around his wrists, arms, knees, and waist. Struggling fruitlessly, Cadvan was dragged back toward the bush. A horrible image passed over his mind's eye when he envisioned himself being devoured by a bush.

"Hold still, it will be easier," Maerad advised, watching as Cadvan was dragged back more and more. "Roses only use their thorns when they must, you know."

"Please, don't," Cadvan croaked, falling still. "It doesn't have to be like this."

"Quiet," Maerad said imperiously, and one of the vines twisted around his mouth, effectively gagging him.

Silenced and stilled, Cadvan lay on the grass, panting and trying to ignore the shooting pain from the thorns. He watched Maerad approach him and smile narrowly. I love you, I love you even now, believe me.

"Perhaps, given a few days to think about it, you will come to your senses. Yes?" Maerad didn't wait for Cadvan to respond. Instead, she bent at the hips and kissed his cheek. "If you would only love me, Cadvan, love me for me, and me alone, I would do anything for you."

I do! Cadvan wanted to cry after her, but she turned on her heel and left him there, bound by the roses and his own broken heart.

Nerili's breath rattled out in a painful gasp as Hekibel tightened the strings on the back of her corset. She placed her palm flat against her belly straining against the boning. She glanced up, saw herself in the small mirror on her wall, and cringed at the sight: her hair had been tamed, pulled off her face and into messy bun, her face had been scrubbed raw and powder applied to hide the bruises, but it only served to throw the shadows under eyes into sharp relief. She glanced sideways at Hekibel.

"I can't do this."

Hekibel returned, carrying a pile of fabric that must have been the gown she was going to wear. She looked at Nerili-almost pitilessly. "It's not exactly like you've got a choice, Neri. Now, turn around and step into this. I'll lace it up."

Nerili looked down at the dress unkindly. "It's not like in Busk. I miss the gowns in Busk."

"You'd look beautiful in anything, Neri," Hekibel reassured her, and then helped her step into the gown.

Why are you being so childish? Nerili asked herself, watching while Hekibel pulled the dress up in the mirror. You miss the dresses in Busk? I'm sure she misses the life she had before she came here. Stop it.

"It seems a bit heavy for Den Raven, but you'll be indoors mostly. I can only imagine the corset is going to be uncomfortable, though." Hekibel was tying up the laces on the back of dress, brushing any creases out of the skirt. "I can't believe he put you in silk."

Nerili stepped back from the mirror to get a look at herself: it wasn't awful, in fact, it was almost flattering. The bodice was tight and uncomfortable, covered in an intricate design of vines and flowers, but the skirts were long and flowing soft burgundy silk, they rustled at the slightest breeze and kept her legs cool. She wore no sleeves, but Hekibel draped a simple silk scarf over her shoulders, something dark purple with beaded tassels. She thought she looked like something of dancer.

"You look fit for a stroll along the garden paths," Hekibel pronounced, admiring the draping of the scarf. "I suspect Hem will be speechless."

Nerili pursed her lips. "Then perhaps the Nameless One will leave me be."

"Do you really think that?" She looked curious. "You're a First Bard. You're one of his most dangerous enemies. I think he will never leave you alone."

Nerili turned to face her full on, drawing the scarf tightly about her. "I'm hardly a threat anymore; I'm merely a servant here."

"If you were merely a servant, would the Nameless One try so hard to break you?" Hekibel smiled knowingly. "You've proven already to be something dangerous, that's why he's done this. Hem is passionate about you, and it scares the Nameless One. You're not as useless as you think."

Not useless, Nerili thought, giving herself another glance in the mirror. Nyanar told you this was your fate. This is what you were meant to do.

It was heartening. Nerili straightened up, lifted her chin, and tried smile charmingly at the reflection. The smile didn't reach her eyes, but it did manage to make her face less severe.

"There's the smile," said Hekibel. "Now, Hem is just finishing his lessons, and, knowing him, he'll be in a foul mood from them. Try to be entertaining, keep his thoughts off the work, keep him laughing. It shouldn't be hard, you're an intelligent woman."

Nerili felt like she was being prepped for a leading role in a play. Spiritedly, Nerili practiced a sly, sideways look with a playful smile before nodding to Hekibel, who led her out of their small room. Hekibel waked before Nerili, like an escort going before her queen, and led her down the halls to Hem's room; a few servants saw them and stared in surprise at Nerili. A slave made queen?

"Smile," Hekibel hissed at Nerili right before she threw the doors to Hem's rooms open.

"The lessons going well, then?" Hekibel asked charmingly as she moved forward on Saliman and Hem, seated at a table. "You two seem in a fine mood."

"An excellent mood," said Hem darkly, pushing a stack of papers away. "I like healing, but this, this is just miserable."

Hekibel smiled tightly, glanced back at Nerili, and nodded her head encouragingly. "I think everyone finds Reading a bit dull in their youth. If it's any conciliation, I used to pretend I was sick during lessons just to get out, and I became First Bard." Nerili laughed sweetly. She moved forward ever so slightly, and caught the look of disbelief on Saliman's face; she shook her head ever so slightly, silencing him. "Perhaps a glass of wine?"

"Sounds lovely," said Hem, not looking up from his work.

You need to get his attention, Nerili snarled at herself. You need him to like you.

Nerili took her time, pouring the wine and took her time coming back to the table. She stood attentively by Hem's side, the glass held tightly in her hand to stop the shaking. Gradually, Hem noticed she was waiting for him to take the wine and looked up at her. She had the pleasure of seeing his eyes widen.

"Nerili you-you-thank you," he managed to stutter. She didn't respond but instead raised one eyebrow and then handed him the drink. "Yes, thank you." He took a long draw on it, gesturing at a chair on the other side of the room, but Nerili chose instead to sink gracefully onto a small, cushioned footrest.

From her position, she looked up at Hem. "I always enjoyed a glass of wine while I was studying. It clears the mind, helps you focus on the important things."

Her face turned up to him, Hem suddenly felt very powerful; it was as if even the most powerful people in the world were gazing up at him for guidance. It scared and excited him. "I am beginning to think that these aren't the important things. Would you agree?"

Honey slow, Nerili smiled. "It takes a Bard wise in the way of the heart to realize that."

Hem sipped his wine again. "I've been telling Maerad that for months but she thinks it's nonsense."

"Perhaps she'll follow by example?" Nerili suggested sweetly, and then glanced at Saliman who was watching her closely. "Why don't we take some air? Enjoy the sun in the garden? Make music?"

"What a lovely idea," said Saliman a moment later. He had decided that whatever Hekibel and Nerili were up to, there was a reason behind it. "I'm sure we're bound to find Cadvan and Maerad out there somewhere; the Light knows they spend all their time out there…"

Hem stood. "I'll get Irc, he likes to stretch his wings."

Nerili rose up a fair bit more gracefully than Hem, who watched her out of the corner of his eye, and turned so that the sun struck her face. She was stunning in the sunlight, dressed in the finest silk, her face pale under the powder; Hem was momentarily stunned, as he had never before imagined Nerili in such a way.

"That crow of yours has the most interesting things to say," said Nerili interestedly, following Hem's stops. "Do you speak with him often?"

"Well, I barely understand him," said Hem, grateful Nerili had moved onto a subject he was comfortable with. "I miss his voice, and his attitude, if truth be told. He was a good friend."

"Wise, no doubt," said Nerili as they passed into Hem's room. She eyed the bed a moment, wondering if that was where this game of the Nameless One's was going to end, and then turned away quickly. She couldn't even begin to consider such a thing. "Crows are intelligent creatures, and by far, some of the most cunning. Smart of you to keep one around."

"It wasn't really like I planned it," said Hem, embarrassed. "Irc just came with me."

"He loves you," said Nerili as they drew level with the crow's cage. "There is no other reason I can think of that he might come here if not for his love of you."

Hem paused, about to open the cage door. "Here? What do you mean?"

Nerili backtracked. "He misses the skies and the forests and the winds beneath his wings, no? Den Raven doesn't exactly sport the favorite haunts of crows." She laughed then, hoping to dissuade Hem.

It worked. Whether because of her beauty or because Hem agreed with her, he shrugged his shoulders. "There used to be forests here, mighty trees that dominated the land. I want to see those trees again, I want the Bards to bring them back. And then, Irc shall have all the trees and winds and skies to fly in."

Nerili bowed her head in assent and, with a slanted looked at Hem, opened the cage. Irc eyed Nerili closely. He had admired her before, mostly for the flame that every now and then burned in her eyes, but also because she seemed so sad. Now she knelt before the crow and offered her wrist as a perch.

Go no, jump on. I need Hem to trust me, and if he sees me charming his crow, he'll be sure to like me. Nerili flashed a pleading look at the crow, unable to speak before Hem. Please.

Imperiously, Irc hopped onto her wrist and allowed her to stroke the feathers on his neck. Nerili rose up and met Hem, still holding Irc. "I think he likes me, no?"

"Most certainly!" Hem agreed, listening to Irc croon as Nerili pet him. "He usually doesn't take to strangers so quickly."

"I'm not a stranger," said Nerili, pretending outrage. "I've been here before."

"But only just," Hem reminded her, his eyes still on Irc. "Either way, if Irc likes you, you'll have to spend more time with us. Accompany us on all our trips. Would you like that?"

To escape this wretch palace and breathe the free air? "I would be honored." Feeling like an idiot, Nerili managed a curtsey, and when she came up from it, Hem's eyes were on her face. "The garden?"

"What of it?" Hem asked blankly.

Nerili smiled brightly. "Did we not agree to go out and let Irc spread his wings?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Hem said quickly. "I suppose I lost my-my thoughts for a moment."

"You've been busy," Nerili said, again turning the conversation to something other than her. "Studying all day. What do you learn?" They returned to the sitting room to find Hekibel and Saliman waiting. Hekibel must had spoken to Saliman, because he no longer looked confused, and, on the contrary, was immensely interested in anything but her and Hem.

"Healing is my passion," Hem admitted, almost shyly.

"You healed me," Nerili reminded him. "And I never properly thanked you."

"You don't need to," said Hem quickly as they approached the doors that gave way to the garden. "That was Enkir's doing. I certainly didn't ask to have you treated in such a way."

Don't speak of Enkir, Nerili thought swiftly, recalling the Nameless One's warning. "Regardless of whose fault it was, I'm grateful nonetheless." But, by the Light, I hope you punish him.

"You're very kind," Hem said gently, smiling uncertainly at her. "I'm glad Maerad asked me to take you in. I think you are just the type of person I need around here…you help me clear my mind."

Instead of answering, Nerili offered him another curtsey and then shook her wrist slightly so that Irc would take flight. As the crow spread his large wings and took to the air, Nerili watched his flight. "If there's anything I might do for you, you just need to ask."

Hem opened his mouth to speak, but seemed unable to find any words. Instead, he held his arm out in the same way he had seen Saliman do with Hekibel and waited for Nerili to place her hand there. She hesitated only a moment, but knew there was nothing else she could do. Once her hand was tucked in his elbow, Hem led the way farther into the garden, talking mostly of healing he would like to learn. Nerili barely listened, but she nodded all the same; she was instead thinking of Nyanar's words.

If there's anything I can do…Healing him is the only thing I can do.