Fires of Azeroth

"For long?"

"As long as you wish. Til the sun rises, if that is what you want of me."

He bowed his head against his hands a moment, gathering his thoughts. Nothing would make sense except from the begi

And he told her the rest: Fwar, and Hetharu's camp; and Merir's; and their way here. He spared nothing, least of all his pride; at the last he did not look at her, but elsewhere, close to choking on the words… for half of him was Nhi, and Nhi were proud, and not given to such admissions as he made.

Her hands were clenched when he had done. She loosed them after a moment, as if she had only then realized it. It was a moment before she looked up.

"Some things I would that I had known at the time."

"Aye, and some things I would that you did not know now."

"Nothing that you have told me troubles me, not on your account. Only Roh… Roh. I did not reckon on that. I swear that I did not."

"You saw him. But-but perhaps-I do not know, liyo."

"It ca

"Liyo."

"I warned you it could not make any difference… Roh or Liell; no difference."

"But Roh-"

"Let me alone a time. Please."

His control came close to breaking. He had said too much, too painful things, and she shrugged them off with that. "Aye," he said thickly, and thrust his way to his feet, seeking the cold, sane air outside. But she rose and prevented him with a grip on his wrist. He would hurt her if he struck out in his anger; he stood still, and the tears broke his control. He averted his face from her.

"Think of something," she hissed fiercely. "Think of something that I can do with this gift you have brought me."

He could not. "His word you would never take. And that is all there is… his word, and my faith that it is worth something. And that is nothing to you."

"You are unfair."

"I make no complaint of you."

"Keep him prisoner? He knows too much… more than you, more perhaps than Merir… in some things more than I, perhaps. I ca

"At times… at times, I think there is only Roh. He said the other was only in dreams; and perhaps the dreams are stronger than he is when there is nothing near him that Roh remembers. He says that he needs me. -But I have no knowledge of such things. I only guess. Perhaps I am the one who forced him to come here to you, because when he is with me… he is my cousin. I only guess."

"Perhaps," she said after a moment, "your instinct in that guess is not so far amiss."

There was a clutching pain in him. He turned and looked at her, looked into her gray eyes, the face that was utterly qhalur. "Roh has said… again and again… that you know all these things very well-and by your own experience."

She said nothing, but stepped back from him. He did not mean to let it go this time.

"I do not know," she whispered at last. "I do not know."

"He says that you are what he is. I am asking you, liyo. I am only ilin; you can tell me never to ask; and the oath I took to you does not question what you are. But I want to know. I want to know."

"I do not think you do."

"You said that you were not qhal. But how do I go on believing that? You said that you had never done what Liell has done. But," he added in a still voice difficult to force against the distrust in her eyes, "if you are not qhal-liyo, are you not then the other?"

"You are saying that I have lied to you."

"How can you have told me the truth? liyo, a little lie, even a kindly lie at the time… I could understand why. If you had told me you were the devil, I could not free myself of the oath I had given you. Perhaps you mean it for kindness in that hour. It was. But after so long, so many things-for my peace-"

"Would it give you peace?"

"To understand you-yes. It would. In many ways."

The gray eyes shimmered, pained. She offered her hand to his, palm up; he closed his over it, tightly, a ma

Fear was in her look… anxiety, he realized numbly, for his opinion, as if she needed regard it. He half understood the other things, the madness that was time within gates. That anything could be older than the qhal … he could not grasp such age. But he had hurt her, and he could not bear to have done that. He let go her fingers, caught her face between his hands and set a kiss beside her lips, the only affirmation of trust he knew how to give. He had believed her a liar, had accused her, assuming so, so surely that he could dimiss such a lie and forgive, understanding her.

And he did not. A pit opened at his feet, to take in all his understanding.

"Well," she said, "at least thee is still here."

He nodded, knowing nothing to say.

"Thee surprises me sometimes, Vanye."

And when he still found no answer, she shook her head and turned away across the little shelter, her arms folded tightly, her head bowed. "Of course you came to that conclusion; there was nothing else you could think. Doubtless Roh himself believes it. And for whatever small damage it could do-Vanye, I beg you keep it to your knowledge, no one else's. I am not qhal. But what I am no longer has any meaning, not in this age. Not in Shathan. It no longer matters."

"Liyo-"

"I would not have you believing that I knew Roh's nature. I would not have you thinking I sent you against him, knowing that. I did not. I did not, Vanye."

"Now you have rne between two oaths. Oh Heaven, liyo. I was thinking of Roh's life, and now I am afraid of wi

"I know my own mind. Do not shoulder everything." She tossed her head back, thin-lipped, and looked at him. "This is Nehmin. Yon will see it as I have seen it; I am not anxious to spill blood in this place. We are far from Andur-Kursh… far from every grudge it had… and I pity him. I pity him, even as Liell-though that is harder: I knew his victims. Give me time to think. Go to sleep a while. Please. There is at least something of the night left, and you look so tired."

"Aye," he agreed, though it was less for weariness than that he would not dispute her, not now.

She gave him the mat by the east wall, her own. He lay down there with no real desire of sleep; but the ease it gave sent a sudden heaviness on him, so that he cared not even to move. She drew the blanket farther, over him, and sat on the mat beside him, leaned there against the post, her hand over his. He shivered for no reason-if he had taken a chill he was too numb to feel it. He let his breath go, flexed his fingers against hers, enclosed them.

Then he slept, a hard, swift darkness.