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Asa’s pulse beat faster with anticipation. Once he had lived as a woman, a soldier of the Empire. Once, he and Tanja Duhr had been lovers. For so long, he had not allowed himself to believe it. Poets and scholars both talked of souls meeting again and again throughout time, but it was a rare thing, almost impossible that the one who died and was reborn rediscovered the still-living heart-mate.
Tomorrow, I will see you again.
* * *
No life dreams awaited him that night, though he expected them. Instead, he dreamed of his father, a quiet man who had died almost nineteen years ago. Asa’s mother had remarried at once, both for her own pleasure and to produce more sons and daughters. She never spoke the name of that first husband, but at times her gaze turned westward toward the seas, as if searching for his presence. When Asa woke in the early dawn, he wondered how much of his self, his body came from her, and how much from that half-remembered man.
* * *
“How old are you?”
Asa shifted on his feet. He stood in what passed for an entry hall in this narrow household. It was scarcely midmorning. From the kitchen came a fragrant tide: the scent of newly baked bread, along with other, enticing aromas. Breakfast at the inn had proved just as awful as he expected. After a protracted negotiation, Asa had sold his horse to the landlord, then hired a carriage to take him into the northern hills overlooking the main city. The final segment of his journey had required two hours. To sit here meekly while this pock-faced young woman questioned him was more than he could bear.
“My age does not matter,” he said. “Give the letter to your mistress.”
The woman smirked. “I will. But not until you answer me.”
Her tone was impertinent. He wanted to smack her. She was nothing more than a serving woman. A bondsmaid. “Twenty-three.”
Now she met his gaze directly, clearly laughing at him. “And you want what? A recommendation to Court? A letter of introduction to the University?”
“None of those. I—“He checked himself and drew a breath. “I want,” he said with exaggerated patience, “a few moments with Mistress Tanja Duhr. My uncle is her friend. Or was, once. His name is Hêja Dilawer. Say yes or no. I do not pretend the matter is important to anyone but me. But do not tell me any lies.”
She stared at him with narrowed eyes. “You are the nephew of Hêja Dilawer?”
He nodded.
“One moment, then.”
She vanished through a doorway.
Asa waited, overcome by a sudden rush of panic. It was possible Tanja Duhr would refuse to see him, even with a letter from his uncle.
And what if she agrees? What will you say to her?
Before he could decide on an answer, the young woman returned. “She said yes.”
His pulse beating faster, Asa slid the letter inside his shirt and followed her through a narrow corridor and up winding stairs. The scent of sweet oil hung in the air. No lamps were lit, but sun poured through the narrow windows lining the stairwell, so that some steps were splashed in sunlight, while others remained in shadow.
They passed numerous landings, each with several doors, but the woman did not pause until they reached the top. She opened a wooden door and gestured for him to pass through. Asa touched the letter inside his shirt, felt the ripple of magic against his skin. He was aware of the bondsmaid and her mocking smile, but he no longer cared.
One quick breath. One moment to collect himself. Then he stepped over the threshold.
Sunlight blinded him. He stopped in midstep and blinked. A breeze washed over his face, carr
ying the scent of blooming roses, lilies, goldenflower, and others he could not identify. When he took a hesitant step to one side, his feet crunched on gravel, then soft dirt. The breeze veered and he caught the unmistakable tang of pine forests. Where was he?
Behind him the door clicked to. Asa blinked again, and his vision cleared.
He stood on the rooftop, in a miniature garden open to the skies. Far below, the vast expanse that was Duenne swept over the plains—south and west and east. He could see the several rings of walls, each one overrun by the populace throughout the centuries, the highway and gates where he entered, the several market squares he’d passed through that morning. To the southeast stood the enormous Imperial palace with its golden towers and crimson roofs. Through the city wound the Gallenz River, like a great blue vein, finally uncurling toward the eastern coast.
“I find it easier to see here,” said a voice.
Asa turned. A woman sat on a bench underneath a trellis crowded with roses. Next to her was a small box with a slanted top, and a sheet of paper weighted down with a few stones. Several crumpled balls of paper littered the ground underneath. She was barefoot.
Tanja Duhr rose and held out her hand. Asa handed over the letter of introduction and withdrew a step. Duhr touched her fingers to the seal. The air glittered with magic released and the paper fell open.
As she read, Asa allowed himself the luxury of studying her features.
