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He lunged over to the pavilion, felt around on the table for a pitcher and glass, and sprinted back to her so rapidly half the water spilled out over his hands. Villette gulped what was left in the glass and coughed a few times, then crossed her hands over her stomach and leaned over. After panting heavily for a few moments, she straightened up and took in one long breath of air.
“Well,” she said. “That wasn’t as smooth as I’d hoped.”
He was still stunned. “Why did—why did you do that?”
Her dark face seemed to have paled with exertion, but the expression in her eyes was as fierce as ever Zessaya’s could be. “Defiance,” she said.
Brandon shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, you know the stories,” she said, lightly enough. “When Cordelan decided to remake the continent, he also chose to make Dar his wife, and together they ruled the united lands. And together they were so powerful that Zessaya had no choice but to cooperate with them. But Zessaya is an insolent, subversive goddess, and she refused to be completely controlled by her old enemy and this new god. So she made cherloshe impervious to Cordelan’s power. And anyone who wears cherloshe is protected from Cordelan’s vengeance.”
“But you aren’twearingit,” Brandon pointed out. “Youateit.”
Now he saw a new look on her face—half anger, half fervor. “You want the truth? All right, I’ll tell you. I have a condition. There’s something in my blood, and the high divine wants to exploit it. And I have spent all my adult life trying to make sure he doesn’t. And the one thing in this world that can counter the condition in my blood is cherloshe. Cherloshe nullifies it, or changes its composition or—something. I don’t know. But it keeps me safe from the high divine’s machinations.”
Brandon didn’t know what to think. It seemed like the most elaborate, the most ridiculous, of lies. What possible condition could she have? How could the priests exploit it? And how could an ounce of rock dissolve into her blood in a way that would protect her?
“It sounds mad,” he said.
She actually laughed. “It does! I will grant you that. But it’s the truth.”
“How long does it last? The—the effects of the cherloshe you swallowed.”
“Usually a month or two.”
“What happens once it wears off?”
This laugh was a little wilder. “Oh, I’ve been wondering that for the past few weeks, ever since I lost my last source of supply. When the high divine comes tomorrow, you see, he will test my blood. He will check to see if it is—at the optimum condition for what he wants. It won’t be, because of your chazissa, that miraculous bit of stone with powers you didn’t even know it possessed. But if it was—if itwas—” She shook her head. “My life would be over.”
He was shocked. “He wouldkillyou?”
“Oh, no. No no no no. I am so much more valuable to him alive than dead. He would rather see half the city murdered than to see me harmed in the slightest way. But I would be unhappier than anyone in the course of human existence.”
Privately, Brandon thought that was another exaggeration. There were plenty of miserable people in the world and, despite the fact that Villette was imprisoned, she didn’t seem as bad off as some people he could think of.
But he found that he did not want the high divine to do anything that made her unhappy.
“How did you get cherloshe before?” he asked.
“A friend of mine would bring some when she visited. But she was discovered and she has been banned from the house. So not only do I not have the cherloshe, I don’t have the pleasure of her company.”
“Would you like—I mean, I could get you some more. If you wanted.”
Her face softened; her lips parted. “Brandon,” she said in a wondering voice. “If you would do that for me—”
“It wouldn’t be hard. I’ll just buy another chazissa or two in the island district. Then you’ll have them on hand when you need them.”
“That would be—I can’t even tell you how amazing that would be!” She clasped her hands under her chin, and he couldn’t tell if she was thanking him or praying to the goddess. Maybe both. “You’re so kind.”
He was embarrassed. And pleased. “I’m happy to do it.”
She took a deep breath. “Then—if you’re willing—I would be sograteful.I would be sorelieved.This will give me a kind of hope I haven’t had in months.”
“I’m happy to do it,” he repeated.
They stood there for a moment, smiling at each other in the dark. The honeysuckle smell of her perfume seemed stronger than any other scent in the garden, in the city.
“Well,” she said. “I have to go in and prepare myself for my dreadful day tomorrow. Thank you again. You have given me so much courage.” And she bowed her head to him, as if he was a rich landowner and she was a servant girl, and hurried into the house.
