Free Kushiel's Avatar by Jacqueline Carey Page A

Doge’s own elder son … but still.
    The genius behind it was Melisande.
    And I had ridden to La Serenissima in response to her request for aid.
    In light of this fact, Joscelin and I took lodgings at one of the finer inns near the Campo Grande. La Serenissima is a city of trade above all, and there was nothing strange about a D’Angeline couple travelling there. The only strangeness was in my mind, and the echo of memory as I gazed from my balcony onto the bustling market in the square below, the morning sun glittering on the Great Canal and striking gold from the domed roof of the Temple of Asherat. Joscelin came to stand beside me and we looked, thinking the same thoughts.
    “There,” he said, pointing. “That’s where the parrot-merchant’s stand stood, from Jebe-Barkal. Do you remember?”
    “The Yeshuite,” I said. “The Immortali picked a fight with him, and Ti-Philippe had a bloody nose at the end of it.” I frowned. “How did you end up defending the parrot-stand?”
    “I don’t remember.” He leaned on the railing, bracing his arms. “Elua, but I was an idiot then! It’s a wonder you forgave me.”
    “No.” I curled my fingers about his forearm. “We were both idiots, and I was cruel. I was so blinded by my quest, I didn’t care how much I hurt you. I taught myself to relish the pain instead. Call it an anguissette’s folly.”
    Joscelin gazed down into the marketplace. “But you were right,” he said, “when I thought you were on a fool’s errand. And I was too proud to admit how terrified I was of losing you. It would have been different if I had.”
    “Ah, well.” I rested my head against his shoulder. “Elua willing, we are a little older now, and a little wiser. Whatever happens …” I drew back to look at his face. “Joscelin, you know I would never leave you?”
    “I know,” he said softly. “I do know it, Phèdre. But what lies between you and Melisande frightens me, because Kushiel’s hand is in it. You are his Chosen, and he has marked you for his own … and I, I am only Cassiel’s servant, no more. What is that, to one who was the Punisher of God?”
    Alone among the Companions of Elua, Cassiel bore no gifts, no earthly power. No province bears his name, and he left no mortal lineage. Only the Cassiline Brothers, middle sons, sworn into fruitless loyalty. What was it indeed to the cruel and merciful might of Kushiel, lord of atonement, guardian of the brazen portals of Hell? It is not an easy thing, to be Kushiel’s Chosen.
    “Love,” I said to Joscelin. “Only love. And if that is not enough, Elua help us all.”
    Joscelin shivered and put his arms around me.
     

 
    Eight
     
    WE PRESENTED ourselves at the Temple of Asherat-of-the-Sea.
    If the priestesses there knew who I was, they gave nothing away. It was a piece of the oddness, to stand in the Temple proper and gaze at the vast effigy of the goddess. Carved of stone, Asherat stared across the open space unmoved, surrounded by leaping waves. Once, I had stood upon the balcony opposite and claimed her voice for my own, crying out to stop a traitor from being anointed her beloved, Doge of La Serenissima.
    Now, a member of the Elect was summoned and came to greet us, her bare feet whispering on the floor, glass beads glistening on the strands of her silvery veil. Whether or not I knew her, I could not say. She bowed in acknowledgment, blue silken robes stirring beneath their netting.
    “The Lady Melisande will see you.”
    Joscelin and I followed the priestess of the Elect, flanked by eunuch attendants bearing ceremonial barbed spears. I remembered how the Habiru lass Sarae had shot one with her crossbow, how Kazan’s men had slain others scarce-awakened, and shuddered involuntarily.
    That blood too was on my conscience; innocent blood.
    Our path wound down many corridors, longer than it had when I’d visited with Ysandre. Even then, the priestesses of Asherat had treated Melisande like a Queen in exile. In