from beneath the concealment of the canopy.
"I think so." She looked at Mhara, whose face was bright and peaceful as he knelt in the shelter of the canopy. The rim of the sun, blazing summer white, crept over the edge of Wuan Chih and the world was abruptly flooded with light. The canal burned in the sudden sun and above them the temple was thrown into a massive angular blackness. The Paugeng troop boat was no more than a shadow against the water. Slowly, Mhara turned the tiller so that the boat spun into the watery entrance of the temple.
"We can't go in there!" Robin protested, but they were caged and outmaneuvered by the troop boat. The little craft, with Robin trying in vain to see beneath the canopy, began to edge forward. The brimming sunlight ran from the sides of the wharves, spun out of the water. The Jhenrai danced with a fiery brightness and now the edge of the boat was bumping against the sluice. In haste, Mhara spun the wheel and the sluice gate creaked upward. The troop boat surged forward and then Mhara and Robin were through the narrow channel and into the temple vault. Behind them, something gave a low, snickering laugh.
Within, the temple seemed enormous. The top of the dome lay at the edges of sight, though from the outside Robin had always judged it to be a couple of hundred feet high. The vault itself was darkness laid upon darkness, but from the crest of the dome a single beam of light sent the dust motes twirling in the air. The vault was filled with whispering: voices murmured in Robin's ear, borne on a rushing wind like the breath of the sea. The sound muffled the mechanical beat of the boat's engines, churning the smooth, black surface of the cistern into a pattern of dappling water. Slowly the boat slid forward, a toy in the midst of vastness, and by the time the wider Paugeng boat had engineered itself through the cistern sluice, Robin and Mhara had turned the corner and vanished into emptiness.
Twenty-Four
The afternoon found Zhu Irzh in a teahouse, reading among the old men. No one batted an eyelid. Reacting to his non-humanity would mean that they lost too much face, and anyway, as he was trying to catch the boy's eye for more tea, another person walked in, the possessor of a chalky olive skin and a round, beaming face, the eyes like currents in a heavy fold of eyelid, dressed in antique leather armor. He and Zhu Irzh gave one another a polite nod of recognition between Hellkind and then the creature left, having failed to find who, or what, he was seeking.
It was a big teahouse, arranged on four floors, and the shuttered windows were obscured by the usual mass of greenery. Plants were growing in cages, hanging outside the windows, and up here nearer the sun grew ginger and lemon grass, rosemary and sweet basil, fragrant in the late afternoon heat. They made the interior of the teahouse cool and green; Zhu Irzh found it peaceful, despite the chatter of conversation, and, lost in his book, did not realize how late it had become.
When he got back to Lower Murray Street, dusk had fallen and the moon was rising up over Shendei. A figure was sitting on the doorstep of the houseboat, which resolved itself into Jhai Tserai.
"Hello," he said.
"Hello." He let her in and switched the light on. "I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow."
Jhai shrugged. Underneath the dim lighting her amber skin was pale, and her eyes huge.
"Are you all right?" Zhu Irzh said, congratulating himself on having noticed.
"Yes . . .yes, I'm fine. We had a few problems today, nothing you need worry about." She gave a rather unconvincing laugh. Zhu Irzh took off his jacket and hung it on the back of the door, and when he turned he found Jhai immediately behind him. She wound her arms around his neck and he kissed her, opening her lips with his tongue and stroking the back of her neck. She was not passive now. She made him lie back on the couch and went down on him, and he lay back suffused with pleasure, feeling her take him deeper into her mouth until he realized that he was going to come. He sat up quickly and pulled her onto his lap, pushing up the silken skirts.
She had, in a prudent moment, taken her