Zoya's eyes turned such a pure silver they nearly faded to white. I had thought her anger had reached its limit when Vasiliy was killed. I had thought she would have no more room in her for fury.

I was wrong.

When she walked into the room, Darin was asleep and I dozing, enjoying the warmth of him pressed against me, stroking his hair lazily - in short, we were the very picture of a pair of lovers indulging in the relaxation that comes only following sexual release. Which was, of course, precisely the case.

I do not know how long she stood in the doorway, staring at us, picking out details and evidence - though what evidence she might have needed beyond the sight of us in each others' arms, naked, I do not know.

I only woke fully when she slammed the door closed, and was barely fast enough to field the plate she snatched up from the table and threw at me. For a split second, I was in fear for my life - Zoya certainly posessed more than enough power, even then, to obliterate Darin and I both with a single gesture.

But the plate was all she threw. Instead, she stalked over to the bed and glared at me, and I was forced to meet those eyes. My stomach flipped in protest. I had never seen such animal fury directed at me.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Talarin?" She spat my name in true Alani fashion, not the familiarity of long friendship but that of contempt and lack of respect. "Get up - get out. NOW."

My temper has no concept of danger. It is amazing I lived to puberty, much less through it. I shoved the plate back at her, forcing it into her hands. "I will not."

She leaned closer, her skin as pale as alabaster. If it had not been for the pounding pulse at her throat, I might have thought her a living statue of the finest marble. She hissed, "Same-sex pairing is illegal in Nevall, you idiot!" A long finger stabbed toward the floor and the common room below. "If they'd caught you, the best you could have hoped for is that they'd run you out of town naked!"

Darin shifted and sat up, and Zoya's too-pale eyes flickered to him. "And you," she snapped. "What kind of puerile, self-serving-" Her fists had clenched.

"Leave him alone, Zoya!" I sat up, placing myself again in the path of that terrible gaze. I could not - would not - allow her to threaten Darin.

His hand closed on my shoulder. "No, n'shava," he whispered. "It's hardly your crime alone. I'm not craven, nor am I so delicate as you think. I'll take responsibility for my own actions. I'll take whatever punishments I'm due." I turned to look at him, to protest, but his eyes were locked with Zoya's. "But I won't take what I haven't earned."

Zoya gaped at him, and Darin climbed over me to stand before her, heedless of his nakedness or the foot and a half that separated them in height. I sat, spellbound, watching him glare up at her. I had never seen Darin angry before. Not once, not ever in the years I had known him.

But now his green eyes were as cold as chips of jade, and he faced Zoya with squared shoulders. "I've danced to your tune this long," he snapped. "I owed Vasiliy my life, and this is the only coin I have to repay him. But I will not be your slave, Zoya. I will not wear a collar for you, or submit meekly to a beating just because I've hurt your feelings." He lifted his chin stubbornly. "I am a free citizen of Alanis, and I will take whatever lover I wish."

I could have kissed him.

Zoya took a step back, rocked by his accusations. "I never said-"

He followed her. "You never said we were slaves, but you've used us like animals - or worse! And with less regard! You never said you would kill us with your quest for vengeance, but you're doing it anyway."

His eyes narrowed. "You never said I'm sorry. Or thank you. You never acknowledged our grief, or let us try to console you. You run us both ragged, half your errands pointless, the other half fruitless. And we have not complained - not once. We have not shirked, or held you back, or failed to accomplish a single task you have set."

I could not breathe, the air in the room was so thick with their anger. "You treat us more like your servants than your friends, you refuse to show us even a hint of sympathy... And now you would deny us what comfort we can give each other?" He shook his head, the jade of his eyes blazing. "No. It is none of your concern, Zoya."

Abruptly, his anger broke, and he sagged, sighing, putting a hand over his eyes. "We want to help you, Zoyischa. But we can't let you kill us, and we can't let you break our hearts."

Zoya was as surprised by his outburst as I was, the silver-white of her eyes fading again to stormcloud grey. "Darin, I..."

He looked away, rubbing his hand over the old scars on his neck. "They're not going to find out, downstairs, Zoyischa. We are careful and quiet." He eyed her with a hint of reproach. "The innkeeper isn't in the habit of walking into rooms unannounced."

He crossed back to the bed and crawled back in beside me. "Besides, it wouldn't be the first illegality this place has been party to. Don't worry so much." His hands slid around my shoulders, pulling me back down to the thin mattress.

Worried, I could not resist glancing back at Zoya. "Darin, n'shava, are you sure we-" He put a finger over my lips.

"Too much talk, Bard," he teased gently. "I'm trying to rest." Almost defiantly, he snuggled into my arms. He looked over at Zoya, the green of his eyes warm and sympathetic. "Go to bed, Zoya. Get some sleep. You look tired."

Zoya lingered a moment longer, the look on her face stricken and embarrassed and still half-angered. Her mouth opened to speak, and then closed again. She took a breath and tried again, but still no sound emerged from her throat. Finally, she turned on her heel and left, returning to her room of the suite.

The door closed softly, only a quiet snick to betray the latch. But despite his determined attitude of relaxation, I could almost see Darin straining as he listened, sifting each whisper and bump for information about Zoya's state of mind.

It did not take Darin's superior hearing and training to decipher the most telling sounds, when they came: The crash of an earthenware mug as it shattered against the wall, and a moment later, muffled sobbing.

"Darin," I whispered, "she-"

"She'll be fine," he interrupted, his tone brooking no contradiction. "I may have been somewhat harsh, but she needed to hear it. She'll be fine, once she's stopped to think a little." His hands slid over my skin, lips nuzzling sleepily at my throat. "Don't worry so much, Kevilin."

Though my heart ached for her, sobbing alone in her cold bed, the flare of my own temper reminded me that she had brought it upon herself. In the end, too tired to resist, I let Darin convince me. I held him in my arms and kissed him good night, and I slept.

I do not know how much later it was when I woke again, Darin's hand shaking my arm urgently. "Kevil," he whispered, "wake up, n'shava. Please. Wake up."

No light filtered through the curtains - late night, or early morning, then, but Darin was insistent. I half-sat, propping myself up on one elbow and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "What is it, n'shava?"

He was out of bed altogether and mostly dressed, though the ties of his shirt hung open and his hair was still mussed from sleep. His face, in the dim light of the night-lamp, was desperately worried. "It's Zoya," he said, and like a dash of cold water, the words and his expression jolted the last of the sleep from my system.

I sat up and snatched my clothes from the floor. "Tell me," I demanded as I pulled on the half-tangled pants, imagining I know not what kinds of dire happenings.

Darin's hands twisted together, a lingering mannerism from his days in Karandistahn. "I went in to see if she would talk to me, and she's..." His eyes seemed larger than usual in his pale face as they met mine. "She's very sick."

He was trembling with reaction. I decided I could forego the shirt, and dashed for Zoya's room.

She laid on the narrow bed, shivering convulsively with fever. She had pushed the blanket from the bed, and I picked it up and draped it over her before touching her face. She was so hot my hand nearly snatched itself back on instinct. "Bright Lady, she's burning up!" She responded to me not at all as I touched her throat to check her racing pulse.

Darin, lingering in the doorway, nodded. "What are we going to do, Kevil?" His voice held a hint of panic.

My mind raced. We certainly could not stay in Nevall - the tiny country not only outlawed same-sex partnerings, but seemed to have resisted all medical advancement since the MageWar. The information we traced to Vasiliy's revenge had ended here, however. It seemed folly to abandon the trail.

"K-kevil?" Zoya's eyes were open, though they flinched away from even the soft light of the candle. "I'm so cold..." She held up a shaking hand, reaching for me, and I folded my hands around hers, trying to warm her ice-like fingers.

"You have fallen ill, n'shava. Rest, and you will be better soon."

She shook her head, wincing in obvious pain. "Have to go," she breathed. "They'll bleed me. And you and Darin..." She struggled to sit up, crying out in pain and frustration as her limbs refused to support her.

"I know, Zoya. We will take care of it, I promise." I glanced back over my shoulder at Darin in time to see his eyes widen fearfully. I turned back to see that Zoya had collapsed again into a feverish semi-comatose state.

Darin swallowed audibly. "What's wrong with her, Kev?" He clung to the doorframe, his voice dropping until I had to strain to hear him. "It- It's not something I did, is it?"

I turned to look at him, the guilt in his face making my stomach knot. "Oh no, no, Darin, darling." I went to him, pulling him into my arms and kissing his fine, soft hair. "She is not sick because you yelled at her, n'shava, I promise." I forced a grin. "She is perhaps sick because she must admit that she was wrong, but that is not your fault, d'va?"

He put his arms around my waist, refusing to smile at my thin joke, but nodding reluctant agreement with my point. "She looks so fragile," he mused, watching her shiver under the thin blankets. "Where are we going to take her?"

I closed my eyes, trying to summon the image of the map in Zoya's spell-locked case. We had been tending south and east for the last months, but there was no further east to go. The countries to the south were mostly placid agricultural communities, with little liking for mischief - our quarry would not find a secure hiding place there and likely not linger long.

But Zoya was too ill for the chase, in any case. Her health had to become our first - indeed, our only priority. I strained to remember anything about the lands and people to the south. Geography had not been my strongest study - I had never thought to find myself on a breakneck quest for vengeance that would lead me to another continent, thousands of miles from my beloved Alanis.

A name wafted through my mind as I struggled for information. Ydriel. I fought foggy memories for another moment, then had it: a goddess of healing, strong in the southern end of this continent. An Aspect of the Bright Lady, my teacher had averred. I prayed she was at least the Bright Lady's ally. And the nearest town was... At least three days away.

I took a deep breath and looked at Zoya, her pale face flushed with the fever, then looked down into Darin's green eyes.

"We will go south."