ness, "but i'm sure i don't know what it is."

the andat's face seemed hung in the air, the pale lips quirked in a smile both amused and grim. he moved forward as she pulled on her robe. his cloak - black shot with blue - seemed to weave in and out of the darkness. he pulled something bulky from a sleeve and held it out to her. a hair cloth.

"i brought this for you," he said. "once i understood what you were doing i thought you'd want it."

liat took it, falling into a pose of gratitude by reflex. the andat returned it dismissively, squatted on the grassy slope and, his arms resting on his knees, looked out over the pond.

"you got out of the torture box."

"one of them. heshai-kvo let me out. he's been doing it for several days now on the condition that i promise to stay within sight of the house. i've sworn a sacred oath, though i imagine i'll break it eventually. it's why he's improving. locking away a part of yourself - especially a shameful one - gives that part power over all the rest. it's the danger of splitting yourself in two, don't you find?"

"i don't know what you mean," liat said.

seedless smiled in genuine amusement.

"dry your hair," he said. "i'm not judging you, my dear. i'm a babykiller. you're a girl of seventeen summers who's taken a second lover. it hardly gives me the high ground."

liat wrapped her hair in the cloth and turned to leave, dry leaves stirring at her ankles. the words that stopped her were so soft, she might almost have imagined them.

"i know about otah."

she paused. as if on cue, the chorus of crickets began again.

"what do you know?" she asked.

"enough."

"how?"

"i'm clever. what do you intend to do when he comes back?"

liat didn't answer. the andat turned to consider her. he took a pose that unasked the question. anger flashed in liat's breast.

"i love him. he's my heartmate."

"and maati?"

"i love him, too."

"but he isn't your heartmate."

liat didn't reply. in the dim light of moon and star, the andat smiled sadly and took a pose that expressed understanding and sympathy and acceptance.

"maati and i ... we need each other. we're alone otherwise. both of us are very, very alone."

"well, at least that won't last. he'll be back very soon," seedless said. "tomorrow, perhaps. or the day after."

"who?"

"otah."

liat felt her breath go shallow. it was a sensation quite like fear.

"no, he won't. he can't."

"i think he can," the andat replied.

"it's a full three weeks just to yalakeht. even if he took a fast boat up the river, he'd only just be arriving now."

"you're sure of that?"

"of course i am."

"then i suppose i must be mistaken," the andat said so mildly that liat had no answer. seedless laughed then and put his head in his hands.

"what?" liat asked.

"i've been an idiot. otah is the otah-kvo that maati told me of. he doesn't wear a brand and he's not a poet, so i never connected them. but if maati's sent him to see the dai-kvo ... yes. he must be."

"i thought you knew all about otah," liat said, her heart falling.

"that may have been an exaggeration. otah-kvo. a black robe who didn't take the brand or become a poet. i think ... i think i heard a story like that once. well, a few questions of heshai, and i'm sure i can dredge it up."

the horror of what she'd done flooded her. liat didn't sit so much as give way. the leaves crackled under her weight. the andat looked over to her, alarmed.

"you tricked me," she whispered.

seedless tilted his head with an odd, sensual smile as much pity as wonderment. he took a pose offering comfort.

"it wasn't you, liat-kya. maati told me all about it before he even knew who i was. if you've betrayed your heartmate tonight - and, really, i think there's a strong argument that you have - it wasn't with me. and whether you believe it or not, the secret's safe."

"i don't. i don't believe you."

the andat smiled, and for a moment the sincerity in his face reminded her of heshai-kvo.

"having a secret is like sitting at a roof's edge with a rock, liat. as long as you have the rock, you have the power of life and death over anyone below you. drop the rock, and you've just got a nice view. i won't spread your secret unless it brings me something, and as it stands, there's no advantage to me. unless things change, i won't be telling any of your several secrets."

liat took a pose of challenge.

"swear it," she said.

"to whom are you talking? how likely am i to be bound by an oath to you?"

liat let her arms fall to her sides.

"i won't betray you," seedless said, "because there's no reason to, and because it would hurt maati."

"maati?"

seedless shrugged.

"i'm fond of him. he's ... he's young and he hasn't lived in the world for very long, perhaps. but he has the talent and charm to escape this if he's wise."

"you sound like heshai when you say that."

"of course i do."

"do you ... i mean, you don't really care about maati. do you?"

seedless stood. he moved with the grace and ease of a thrown stone. his robe hung from him, darker than the night. his face was the perfect white of a carnival mask, smooth as eggshell and as expressionless. the crickets increased their chirping songs until they were so loud, liat was surprised that she could hear seedless' voice, speaking softly over them.

"in ten years time, liat-kya, look back at this - at what you and i said here, tonight. and when you do, ask yourself which of us was kinder to him."