made her way quickly and with a sense of impending doom back to where she had left Ryld. The weapons master wasn't included in the circles of priestesses, and she could tell that was wearing on him. Halisstra was gone hours at a time, and returned to questions she couldn't always answer. She had no way to be sure Ryld loved her-she wasn't entirely certain yet what "love" was, though she thought she was learning, but the warrior stayed. He stayed there in the cold, light-ravaged forest with her, surrounded by worshipers of what to him must have still felt like a traitor goddess.
She staggered into the cool, dark chamber they shared, interrupting him in a meditative exercise she'd seen him do before. He was standing on his hands, eyes closed, toes pointed, legs bent back at the knee. The weapons master held that position for hours sometimes. Halisstra couldn't do it for more than a second or two.
He opened his eyes when she came in and must have seen something in her expression. He rolled forward in a single, smooth motion and was on his feet. There was no sign he was dizzy or disoriented.
"Halisstra," he said, "what happened?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but no words would come.
"Something happened," he said, and he looked around the room.
"Ryld, I ..." she started to say, then watched as he began to arm himself. He grabbed Splitter-his enormous greatsword-first then quickly buckled his sheathed short sword to his belt. He had his armor in his hands when she touched his arm to stop him. His skin felt warm, almost hot, but there was no sweat. Deep black skin was stretched over muscles so hard he felt as if he were chiseled from stone.
"No," she said, shaking the cobwebs from her head finally, "stop it."
He stopped, and looked at her, waiting. She could see the impatience in his eyes, impatience mixed with frustration.
"What is it?" he asked, and she could see him comprehending even as he spoke. She smiled and he sighed.
"It's Danifae," she said finally. "I can't feel her anymore. The Binding has been broken."
His eyes widened, and she could tell he was surprised. Not surprised, necessarily, that the Binding had been broken, but it was as if he were expecting to hear something else.
"What does that mean, exactly?" he asked, leaning his breastplate against the wall next to the bed they shared.
Halisstra shook her head.
"She died?" he asked with no trace of emotion.
"Yes," Halisstra replied. "Maybe."
"Why does that frighten you?"
Halisstra stepped back-was literally taken aback by that question, though it was a logical one.
"Why does that frighten me?" she repeated. "It frightens me ... concerns me, that she's free of me. One way or the other, I'm no longer her mistress, and she's no longer my battle-captive."
Ryld frowned, shrugged, and asked, "Why does that matter to you?"
She opened her mouth to respond and again could form no words.
"I mean," the weapons master went on, "I'm not sure your new friends would approve anyway, would they? Do these trait-I mean, other . . . these priestesses even take battle-captives?"
She smiled, and he turned away, pretending to be deeply involved in returning Splitter to its ready position under their bed.
"They aren't traitor priestesses, Ryld," she said.
He hung his head briefly in response then sat down on the bed and looked at her.
"Yes they are," he said, his voice as flat and as beaten as his eyes. "They're traitors to their race, as surely as we are. The question I keep asking myself now is, is it so bad to be a traitor?"
Halisstra stepped to him and knelt. Draping her hands on his knees. He put out a hand and brushed her long white hair from her black cheek-the gesture seemed almost instinctive.
"It's not," she said, her voice barely audible even in the quiet of their little room. "It's not so bad. We can really only be traitors to ourselves anyway, and I think we're both finally being true to ourselves . . . and each other."
Halisstra's heart sank when she saw the look on his face, his only response to those words. He didn't believe her, but she couldn't help thinking he wanted to.
"How does it feel?" he asked her.
She didn't understand and told him so with a twitch of her head.
"Not being able to feel the Binding?" he said.
She shifted her weight onto her hip, sitting on the floor, and leaned her head against his strong leg.
"I can feel everything about