After the feasting we danced, moving in two large circles around the fire, clapping and singing. Their dances were different from Siranjaro dances, and we all laughed at my bungling. One of the young Quelled men partnered me, though he was very shy and barely said a word. After the dancing we relaxed and listened while one of the old caretakers played his pipes. Lori curled on my lap, asleep, her fingers wound with the silken tassels of my dress. I sat with my arms about the child, but my hands held my woman-stone, and I listened to the pipes, dreaming. For a blissful, blessed time I saw Lesharo crouching by his fire, his dark head bent, his pipes held to his lips. And I heard his music, finer, sweeter, than any other I had heard, and much more deeply loved.

Dannii, sitting close, bent her head to mine. “What is he like?” she whispered.

I glanced at her, startled, and her lips curved. “The man who gave you your firestone,” she said. “What is he like?”

She read me well, this friend. “He is like myself,” I said. “And he plays music sweeter even than this.”

She leaned her head against mine and we listened together, and for the first time I thought of Lesharo without grief, but only with joy for all that he was to me.

I wished to stay all night with the Quelled, but knew that the Chosen would have held it against me, so I returned to the house where the Firelord and I stayed. I spent the rest of the night in silence, sitting alone, listening to Chosen laughter and Chosen stories and Chosen music. I sat by a window of the house, the warmth of the fire on my back, the freezing night wind hissing on my face from between the shutters. I shivered with cold, and longed for the tents of my own people.

I crouched alone in the grey morning shadows outside the house door, and fed Kallai pieces of wings from the ravens he had caught that early dawn. The Firelord came out of the house, and stood a little way in front of me. I stood up, lowering my eyes to the ground.

“I go away today, Elsha,” he said, without turning around.

“Away, lord? You said we’d not divine in the next town for a long while yet.”

“And we won’t. I will go away alone.”

I was appalled, shocked, and immediately guilty. “I have displeased you, lord?” I asked, and dreaded his reply.

“No, Elsha. You have pleased me very well. But I have to go away, and I have to go alone. You will stay here in Talbar, in this house. You will be looked after.”

“Can I not come with you, lord?”

“No. But, Elsha …” He turned and looked at me straight, and his eyes were deadly grave. “Wear my sacred sign. Always. Every moment.”

“Yes, lord How long will you be gone?”