how Danjin was faring next. Something in the room had changed, however. Just as she realized what it was, a voice spoke in her mind.
:Danjin is busy, Chaia said. And as you said yesterday, work comes before play. You have done enough for now—or are you going to work without pause for the rest of eternity?
Auraya smiled.
:Not unless you want me to.
:That was never my intention. Our Chosen ones ought to enjoy themselves from time to time. Even better if we enjoy each other’s company.
She felt a fleeting touch of magic on her shoulder. It sent a shiver down her spine. It was impossible not to think of the potential such sensations might have if they were stronger, or if they roamed from her neck to other places…
:You need only ask, and I will show you.
She thought of Juran’s words. You are fortunate that he favors you… Enjoy it; it may not last forever.
But he could not have meant this.
:No, but he is right about one thing: I do favor you as no other.
An invisible finger touched her lip and slowly traced a line down her neck and chest to her stomach… then faded away. She found she was breathing quickly.
A god, she thought. Why not? Am I resisting just because I don’t want to attract another inappropriate lover?
:Not inappropriate, Chaia corrected. Unusual, perhaps, but nothing to be ashamed of.
Not like Leiard, she thought. But still… complicated.
:Not as complicated as you fear. I will not run away from you as he did, Auraya.
She felt his touch on her shoulders and closed her eyes.
:Send him to the past to be a memory you can look back on fondly, Chaia whispered.
His invisible fingers ran down the sides of her breasts.
:Come with me into that place between dreaming and waking…
She felt his mouth against hers. At first it was the faint touch of magic, but it became something more tangible as she sank into the dream trance.
:… and begin a new time with me.
:Yes, she whispered, reaching for the luminous figure before her. Show me how it could be.
A wave of pleasure more intense than she had ever experienced swept over her.
24
Reivan yawned as she pulled out the chair behind her desk. She’d stayed up late helping Imenja access a trade agreement and now she was late starting her duties of the morning. A nagging headache remained from the previous day and the constant whine of the dust storm outside—which had been blowing for days—was beginning to annoy her.
Becoming a full Servant might have ended her training, but the time she’d spent in lessons was quickly taken up by new duties. Imenja had given her more responsibilities. She now organized Imenja’s schedule. This involved interviewing people who wanted an audience with the Second Voice and deciding if their purpose, or status, was important enough to allow a meeting to take place.
She was given a room near the front of the Sanctuary in which to interview these people. It had two entrances: a public and a private one. The private one allowed her to come and go without being accosted by the people waiting outside the public one.
She had also been given an assistant, Servant Kikarn. He was an ugly man, so skinny he looked perpetually stern, but she was discovering that he had a sharp wit and intelligence. As she sat down he placed a particularly long list on her table and she suppressed a groan. The corridor must be crowded today, she thought wryly.
“What did the wind blow in this morning?”
Kikarn chuckled. “Everything from gold dust to litter,” he replied. “The merchant Ario wishes to bribe—er, give the Second Voice a large donation.”
“How much?”
“Enough to build a new Temple.”
“Impressive. What does he want in return?”
“Nothing, of course.”
She smiled. “We’ll see. What else?”
“A woman who was a palace domestic in Kave claims the High Chieftain’s wife has taken to worshipping a dead god. She says she has proof.”
“She must be sure of it, or she wouldn’t approach Second Voice Imenja.”
“Unless she is ignorant of the Voices’ mind-reading skills.”
“We shall see.” She looked down the list and stopped at a familiar name. “Thinker Kuerres?”
“He is here to see you.”
“Not Imenja?”
“No.”
“What does he want?”
“He won’t say, but he insists that it’s an urgent matter. Someone’s life may depend on it.”
Someone’s life would have to be at stake before the Thinkers deigned to speak to me again, she mused.
“And the others.”
“Not as important as the first two.”
“The first two will take some time. Send Kuerres in.