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Lyr sits down under the tree and leans back against the bark. He feels that warm feeling he gets when the runes on his chest glow. Damon sits down next to him. A short distance away. Their bodies do not touch. Damon says, “Let us begin when you met her. How did you come to Jur-Mattan from Klish?”

Lyr shrugs. “Envoys came. Royal envoys from Ramel’s court. They chose me from the market.”

“On Klish? You were sold at a slave market?”

“Yes. My parents had so many children. My father died. My mother had no choice. She sold me to a slave trader because I was the smallest boy, the weakest. I was worth the least money, the trader said. But she wanted my brothers to work on the farm. The trader said a small male like me could only be sold for pleasure. He took me to the pillow market.”

“And they bought you. The envoys?”

“Yes. The trader said I was lucky. I was exactly what they were looking for. They paid a lot for me, he said, and he was happy.”

“What did she do with you?” he says. “Jareleezi?”

“She used me for rituals. Scrying. She used Arcaneum cards at first. They told her the future. What they told her often came true. Then the cards told her of other rituals. New ways to see what will come. She used my body. The marks you have seen. She cut some of them and burned others. And some of them were sent by her Gods. She had a great plan. Through her magic, she knew you were coming. She knew everything. Damon, she knew. She had such powers. That’s how she escaped. She knew to run.”

“Did she speak to you of the Books of Alios?”

“She had many books.”

“Why did she place you in the harem?”

Lyr takes a breath. He chooses his words carefully. “She always liked to put me with the whores. I think it amused her to think of me as one of them.”

“I am wondering if perhaps she meant for you to be mistaken for a whore and killed. Because you knew her secrets.”

Lyr swallows. “If Jareleezi were found by Azuria, do you think she would be brought back here? To Attar?”

“She would probably be executed. They want those books, not her.”

“But she would not be allowed to take me back?” Lyr says, shakily.

“Lyr,” Damon says, “You are mine. If Jareleezi was brought back to Azuria, she would not be allowed to have you returned to her.”

“What if she made a bargain? The Books of Alios for me?”

“I would not allow it. You are my property.”

Damon’s words are so sure. Lyr doesn’t doubt Damon would fight for him. It makes his stomach flip with pleasure. Damon turns his head and looks into Lyr’s eyes. Lyr looks back. Damon’s eyes are pretty. Green with flecks of silver. They are a strange contrast to the rest of him. Every other part of Damon is big and heavy, and though beautiful to Lyr, could never be called pretty.

“Yes,” Lyr breathes. Damon looks down. He says nothing more. They sit together for some time, listening to the birds. Eventually, Damon says, “We need more. We will find it.”

“I don’t think we will,” Lyr says, “What more can I tell you?”

“There will be something,” Damon says.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because,” Damon’s voice drops low. He looks down at his knees. “Because how will I live otherwise? If I do not find a way to have you?”

Lyr feels a prickle in his throat. He can’t help himself. He grasps Damon’s hand. “All this time,” he says in a whisper. “This past half moon since you fled the orchard after your wife. I thought you had decided to forget about me. I was so sure it was over.”

“I thought it was,” Damon says. “I hoped. But I couldn’t forget about you for a moment. I…” he pauses. Lyr fancies he can see a little colour pink his cheeks. “I think about you all the time. I think about you at night, in my bed, when I spend.”

“Oh,” Lyr says as this statement shoots through him, a bolt of arousal. The thought of Damon, giving himself pleasure, lying in his bed, crying out, thinking of him. “So you do still want me?” Lyr says in a shaky voice.

“Lyr,” Damon says in a voice so low and deep it sounds like the snarl of a wolf, “I cannot think of anything but you. I cannot bed my wife. I have not been to her bed since I arrived home.”

“I heard,” Lyr says, adding, “there is gossip about it.”