THE MOONS HAD BARELY risen when Cassia arrived at the fountain. Although the Light Moon was still
veiled, the Blood Moon shed enough light to reveal she was alone.
It had surprised all the Summit’s attendees when the recess had turned into the end of negotiations
for the night. With the free lords bickering so amongst themselves, there was nothing else to be done.
The king must let them have their squabbles so they could continue to believe they had a say and he
could continue to appear faultless in the lack of progress toward the Oath.
Cassia should be troubled by the stalemate, but she welcomed the early escape to the grounds and
the knowledge that the Summit would drag on for who knew how long.
She had yet to ask Lio the real question that had brought her to Solorum to seek out the Hesperines.
Cassia gazed into the dark trees and confronted the knowledge that the day, that day, was almost
upon her. Her fingers closed reflexively upon her gardening satchel, at the thought of what she carried
there.
Suddenly she felt alone. She had spent the day at the temple, swept up in the mages’ rejoicing over
the wondrous appearance of the rimelace. Knight stood patiently beside her, and she knew Lio was
here somewhere. But the sense crept over her that she was adrift without anchor. The storm would
never end, and there was no one to guide her into harbor.
Cassia set out into the trees on the far side of the clearing. Lio must know she was on her way. It
would not surprise her if he preferred meeting at the shrine from now on, in a haven where he could
use his power more freely. He was probably waiting for her there.
The forest cut off the red moonlight, and darkness closed around her. She unhooded the small
lantern she had brought with her, but the candlelight barely touched the shadows. Without Lio’s
guidance, she had to pay very careful attention to find her way through the tall undergrowth and
between the broad tree trunks. More than once, the deer path seemed to disappear from beneath her
feet as if the ferns and darkness had swallowed it. The woods looked bigger than they had years ago
when two girls, uninterested in ruins, had made forbidden excursions to a pond that seemed a much
more appealing destination on a summer day.
The forest felt so much more vast when she was alone.
A glimmer of light off to her right caught her eye. A hint of red moonglow amid the trees. Another
clearing, one she and Lio had passed the night before. She was going the right way.
A flicker of motion in the clearing arrested her gaze.
Cassia hooded her lantern. Careful where she put her feet, trying not to make a sound, she eased
closer to Knight.
Another flash of motion. She fumbled in her cloak to douse the lantern entirely.
From the clearing up ahead spoke a voice she knew. “Come to me.”
Cassia caught her breath. Then she heard hooves in the grass. She let out her breath again, as
quietly as she could.
She motioned a stay command to Knight, patting his chest with the flat of her hand. It was a
testimony to his loyalty that, knowing what lay ahead, he obeyed.
She crept forward, although she knew what she would see. Because she knew what she would see.
That call had not been for her. Yet she chose to answer it. She halted in a deep shadow at the edge of
the moonlit clearing and watched.
Lio knelt at the center of the glade, awash in blood-red light, and before him stood a young doe. As
he gazed at her in silence, she lowered herself to the ground, folding her hocks beneath her.
At the touch of his hand, she stretched out her neck and rested her head on his lap. He ran his
slender fingers over her coat, and her sides rose and fell with a sigh. He lowered his head, as if to
whisper in her ear.
The doe did not flinch, but Cassia did, the moment his mouth opened on the animal’s neck. The
Blood Moon outlined the taut tendons in his jaw and the undulations of his throat. And yet his hands
remained still and steady. He, the monster of the night, touched a beast with greater gentleness than
humans touched their own kin.
Cassia stared, unmoving, until his throat stilled and his jaw relaxed. He paused a moment, then
lifted his head. There was no blood on his lips. She did not even catch a glimpse of red moonlight on
gleaming fangs.
The deer got to her feet, letting his hands slide off of her. With a shake of her head and a twitch of
her ears, she strolled away into the trees.
His gaze did not follow the doe, but rested instead on his own hands. After a moment, he cleared
his throat and looked at Cassia.
He had known she was there all along, of course. He had chosen to let her watch.
Cassia took a step forward into the reach of the moonlight. “She wasn’t even afraid.”
“She had no reason to be.” He held out a hand. “If you care to join me, I won’t bite.”
Cassia drifted farther into the clearing. “I know you don’t bite. Except the willing. She was, I take
it?”
“Animals make their cooperation or disapproval clear, and we strive to respect that. There is
never any excuse for causing them distress. The doe was friendly and curious.”
“You weren’t even using your mind magery on her?”
Lio shook his head. “Animals already know what so many humans don’t realize about Hesperines.
We are harmless.”
“I wouldn’t call you that.”
His hands tensed in his lap. She was coming to recognize the almost imperceptible body language
of Hesperines, which had seemed opaque to her at first. Or at least, she was learning how Lio’s body
spoke. He was worried about what she thought of the scene she had just witnessed and its
implications.
“Not harmless,” Cassia said. “Safe.”
Now his fingers relaxed. “Is that what you’d call us?”
She nodded. “You could enthrall any creature, couldn’t you? But you wouldn’t.”
“Indeed, that would be a grave violation. Hesperine law forbids us to abuse the insight the Blood
Union affords us. Mind mages have a particular responsibility to understand and uphold these laws.
The power and precision of thelemancy goes beyond even the Union. Because we can manipulate the
Will, it is our duty to be its foremost defenders. Only in very rare, specific circumstances may we use
magic to influence a human’s mind.”
“So there are occasions when it is permissible?”
“Only when there is no other way to save someone from harm.”
“Does that include saving yourself? Might you put an unwilling human into a trance and drink if
you were starving?”
“Any Hesperine would seek sustenance from animals first. I hesitate to imagine a situation so
desperate that option would not be available.”
“I fear my thoughts are trained to consider the worst eventualities,” she said by way of apology.
“We do everything possible to prevent such eventualities. Our laws do provide for situations in
which we must use our power to neutralize an aggressor...or make someone answer for a crime. But I
think you would find Hesperine justice quite different from what passes for justice in Tenebra.”
“That’s why you resort to the king’s negotiation table. It is, of course, a mockery to describe
anything that goes on there as a negotiation. But I think the king is the butt of the joke. He plays with
his soldiers and his mages, but you could take anything you wanted.”
“As you said, we wouldn’t.”
“No. You would petition the monster on the throne to give it to you.” She let out a laugh that tasted
bitter in her mouth.
Lio was not laughing. “Can you imagine the consequences, if we resorted to force? The only
reason the Last War can be called that is because we keep ourselves a kingdom away from Cordium
and only enter Tenebra peacefully and discreetly in small numbers. Think what would become of your
people if we were less careful—or if the time comes when they once more force us to defend
ourselves.”
“I guarantee I will ponder how different our fate would be at your hands than the king’s, the next
time he sentences another one of his dependents to death.”
“You and I both know that the moment conflict erupts between mortals and Hesperines in Tenebra,
Cordium will rush to your kingdom’s ‘assistance.’ I am not sure even Lucis would have the power to
keep those hounds from their natural prey, and I know it is not only Tenebra’s sovereignty that would
be a casualty. The Cordians would burn their way across Tenebra on a new crusade to destroy all
Hesperines.”
“And your people would grieve because you would be the reason for our suffering at Cordium’s
hands.”
“You must wonder why we do not simply give up on the Oath and withdraw from Tenebra so that
there is no chance of conflict.”
“I have never wondered why you are so dedicated to your goddess’s mercies. If you never left
Orthros, who would rescue infants from the wolves? Who would ease the pain of the dying?” Cassia
would not let her voice waver. She would not. “Who would give the desecrated the dignity of their
final sacred rites?”
Lio rose to his feet so fluidly she did not really see him move. “I am glad my uncouth display has
not tarnished your opinion of us. As always, you see things as they are.”
She came nearer still. “I never trust what I see. I trust the evidence of bloodshed, however. That
never lies and is seldom open to interpretation.”
“I’m sorry your truth requires such grisly proof.”
She halted in front of him. “If you were anyone but a Hesperine, I would tell you I do not want
your pity.”
He appeared taken aback. “Cassia, it is not pity.”
“I know.” She turned away from Lio. What a coward she was. The gloom between the trees
welcomed her gaze, much easier to face than him. The trees could not see the fear in her eyes.
The tension and sweat and pain that always waited to drown her now rose over her like a tide. Her
belly quivered, threatening to sicken if she subjected herself to memory. If she looked at what she
always carried inside her.
Cassia willed the words out, as she had willed herself to the Summit table. “The most generous
deed ever done on my behalf was the work of your people, and it was not an act of pity.”