is no after. Not for me.’
‘Am I to go on without you?’
Don’t ask. Forgive me.
As Kestrel received these unspoken words, she felt a movement against her skin, beneath the fabric of her shirt. It was the silver pendant she wore on a string round her neck, that had once been the voice of the wind singer. She had worn it so long she had almost forgotten it was there. Now it stirred and pressed on her chest, and felt warm, as if it was part of her. At the same time, as she sensed its familiar shape and weight, a door opened in her mind, a door she had not known existed. Through the doorway she saw herself and Bowman together, just as they were now: but a little further away, in a time she knew had not yet taken place, she saw her brother without her, lost and heart-broken, calling her name.
He seemed so real, and so lonely, that she called out to him with her mind.
I’ll never leave you. Even if I seem to be gone, I won’t be gone. I’ll always be with you.
Bowman heard her and was astonished.
‘What do you mean, Kess? Why do you say this?’
‘These things that are coming,’ she said aloud, speaking slowly, finding the thoughts only as she formed the words, ‘these things the prophet has written, the time of cruelty, the wind on fire, these things are greater than us.’
‘Oh, yes. Far greater.’
‘We aren’t the makers and the un-makers of the world.’
‘No.’
‘Our task is only to play our small part, for our brief moment, in what must happen.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then we should neither hope nor fear. We must wait for the call, and then do what we must.’
‘Yes.’
She stroked his cheek lightly, tenderly.
‘It’ll come soon enough, brother. Don’t wish it any sooner.’
Sisi could control herself no longer. She must be with Bowman, whatever the consequence. Holding her head high, and looking before her with the distant imperious gaze she had so often used when she had been a princess, she stalked past the other marchers to where Bowman and Kestrel stood. Sisi knew that what she was about to do would shame her for the rest of her life, but the desire was too strong to be resisted. She would do it, and let the future take care of itself.
As she approached she saw both Bowman and Kestrel staring at her in surprise. Do I look so different? she thought to herself. Is it written on my face?
‘Leave us, Kestrel,’ she said. ‘I want to talk to Bowman alone.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Kestrel wonderingly. Bowman signalled her with his eyes, calling, Don’t leave me. But Kestrel was already on her way.
He was alone with Sisi. Her eyes were fixed on him so intently that he felt himself blush.
‘We’ll be moving on any minute,’ he said. ‘We should rejoin the others.’
‘Not yet,’ said Sisi.
To his astonishment, she laid one hand lightly on his arm. She had not been this bold since they had left the Mastery.
‘I know you can’t love me,’ she said, ‘since I’ve lost my beauty. But I can love you.’
‘Sisi, you mustn’t speak like this.’
‘Why not? All I have to lose is my pride. I’m tired of my pride.’
‘You don’t understand. Whether you love me, or I love you, it makes no difference. In a little while someone will come for me, and I’ll leave with him, and you’ll never see me again.’
‘Oh, in a little while. Who cares about that? Here you are, and here am I.’
She stroked his arm.
‘I don’t know what I can do for you, Sisi.’
‘I do.’
She made him meet her eyes: made him become still.
‘Just for now, just for a few moments, pretend you love me.’
‘Please, Sisi, I think this is –’
‘Touch my scars.’
He stared back at her, filled with confused feelings.
‘Do my scars disgust you?’
‘No.’
‘Touch them.’
So he raised one hand and touched one fingertip to the livid stripe on her cheek. He felt the residue of scar tissue, and the softness of new skin where the scab had crumbled away. He did it out of pity for her, and because her will was strong.
‘Now touch my lips.’
He felt her lips: so soft, and moist.
‘What do you want from me, Sisi?’
‘I want you to kiss me.’
The great amber eyes gazed at him unashamed. For the first time, Bowman stopped thinking about his own confusion, and attended to the change in her. Sisi would never make such a request, so directly. Something had happened to her.
‘Kiss you?’ He needed time. ‘Why?’
‘Because I love you.’
‘We’re not betrothed.’
‘I don’t care. Do you care?’
This was not Sisi speaking to him, he was sure of it. This was the passion fly within her. He needed closer contact, to reach into her mind.
‘Close your eyes,’ she was saying. ‘Then you won’t see the scars. The kiss will be just as sweet.’
He closed his eyes. He felt her come into his arms. He felt her lips reach up to his. As they kissed, he felt a shiver of delight go through his body, and for a fleeting moment he was aware that he’d never kissed before, not like this. There was a closeness to it that was both tender and eager. He felt her body press against his, and the feeling of her body was part of the kiss. He held her tight in his arms, and his hands felt the shape of her slender back, and his lips moved against hers, sharing secrets –
No! He jerked his mind free. He reached through the kiss, beyond the kiss, into her desire-possessed mind. As he pressed closer, she kissed him ever more passionately, ever more desperately, as if only in kissing him was she safe. Pushing, probing, burrowing into her, he found it at last, the creature curled within her. He seized it in a firm grip, and still holding Sisi
