He looked smug. "One of the women make for me. I make them feel sorry for you. They curious now. Ask all kind of questions what you like."

"What did you tell them?" I asked wryly.

Bao laughed. "I tell them to meet you they own damn self if they want to know. You want to?"

"Aye," I agreed. "I'd like that."

After weeks of relative isolation, it was a pleasure to be in the company of my own gender. Mei and Suyin, the two women that Bao had bedded, received me with wary curiosity that gave way to giggling warmth at my futile efforts to communicate.

"Different tongue," Bao informed me in D'Angeline. "They from the country, they no speak Shuntian. Also, you sound like a duck quacking."

"Oh." I was discouraged.

The bolder of the two girls leaned close, studying my face. She tilted her head and peered intently at my eyes, reaching out to brush my eyelashes and eyebrows with one fingertip. Uncertain, I held still and let her. She shivered with horrified delight, then addressed Bao in her own dialect.

"She never see jade eyes," he said to me. "She ask if it a witch-sign."

"No, of course not." I frowned. "They were docked in Marsilikos for days. Surely they saw other D'Angelines."

He shook his head. "Not close. They stay on the ship."

I stared at him. "After six months at sea, travelling all that way, they never left the ship? Are you jesting?"

"No." Another head-shake. "They here for the soldiers." He grinned. "Mostly." The women conferred, then the bold one—Suyin, I thought—addressed Bao again. Whatever she said made him chuckle. "She say you almost beautiful for a foreigner," he told me. "If you like, she can help. She shave you eyebrows and show you how to paint them like a willow leaf. Lend you cream to make your skin white. Make you beautiful like a Ch'in woman."

I glanced at Suyin, who smiled and bobbed her head, gesturing helpfully at her white-painted face etched with eyebrows as fine and narrow as the blade of a willow leaf. It had a certain haunting charm, but it wasn't a look I was eager to embrace. "Ahhh….."

"What?" Bao asked me, his eyes glinting. "You not want to look like a bald egg with a face painted on it?"

I flushed. "Not especially, no."

He laughed. "I thank her for you anyway."

Nonetheless, the meeting marked a threshold of sorts. I left it pleased by the warmth that the women had shown me—and they seemed to find me less alarming. I practiced the Ch'in that Bao taught me daily and began to pick up an odd word of different dialects here and there. I kept mainly to my cabin and our deck, but the soldiers and sailors I encountered appeared more comfortable in my presence. They came to consult with Master Lo Feng on matters of health and he treated many of them for ailments and minor injuries. I tended to his snowdrop bulbs, coaxing along their faint song.

We sailed.

And sailed.

My ability to speak the Shuntian tongue improved. My mastery of the Five Styles increased. Betimes I visited with Suyin and Mei and a few of the other women, communicating with gestures and broken phrases when Bao wasn't on hand to interpret. Mostly, he was. The women enjoyed his company, and I gathered from their demeanor that his prowess with a staff had other implications. I gathered, too, that Bao had a reputation of his own that owed naught to being Master Lo's magpie; but on that topic, he remained close-mouthed.

I had to own, it intrigued me. Ever since the day I'd first seen him fight, I'd looked at him differently. But despite having teased me earlier about falling in love with him, on the ship, he treated me with a friendly diffidence that began to irk me.

If it hadn't been for Master Lo Feng's tonic, that might not have changed.

By my reckoning, we'd been almost three months at sea when Master Lo asked us to sample a decoction he had rendered from the dried and powdered bulb of a Camaeline snowdrop. Bao and I were sitting on our straw mats on the sun-warmed deck, anticipating a lesson in the Five Styles.

"You are skilled enough to practice this discipline on your own," he said in his serene manner, pouring liquid from a flask into tiny porcelain cups and extending them to us. "All ways lead to the Way. Now drink."

Bao drank without question and set down his empty cup.

I took a sip.

At first, it was bitter, with none of the headiness of the joie I'd tasted on the Longest Night. But the taste changed in my mouth. It unfurled inside me, turning to something deep and rich, at once earthy and sharp-edged.

I gasped, and drank the rest.

"Very tonic." Master Lo's eyes twinkled. "Good for stimulating the blood. I will leave now. Tell me if you experience increased vigor."

Beyond the ship's ornate railings, the changeless sea rolled past us, waves peaking and sparkling in the sunlight. The air was warm, and yet I tasted mountain air. High places, cold places. The bulbs buried in a pot in my cabin sang. My skin prickled, drinking in the sunlight and craving more. Touch, sensation. The golden spiral of Naamah's gift rose from my core, awoken from slumber. All at once I felt hot and cold, my heart expanding within my breast, beating hard and fierce. Bao…..

His eyelids flickered. "Uh-huh?"

I wanted. Stone and sea, I wanted! "Do you feel it?"

He sat like a cross-legged statue. "Yes. Lucky for you, I have great strength of will."

I straddled his lap. "Lucky for us both, I don't."

I could feel the want in him. I could feel it pressed against me, taut and straining. I lowered my head and brushed his lips with mine. Not a kiss, not quite. "Why don't you like me?"

His breathing came hard. "I do."

I shook my head. "You don't show it."

"Moirin." It was the first time in memory he'd called me by name. His hands landed on my hips, flexing. His fingertips dug into my buttocks, warring with his urges. I pressed myself harder against him. "This is nothing. This is medicine. This is Master Lo's art, nothing more."

I rubbed myself against him. "I don't care."

"I do."

"Why?" glared down at Bao.

"I don't know!" he shouted at me. "Because you're a goddamn witch! Because there are strange forces working here and I want to live through this! All I want is to be a not-so-bad person! Because there are goddamn gods and spirits hovering over you! And a destiny! A goddamn destiny that might swallow me whole! You don't know me! You don't even know if you like me! And if you're not going to fall—"

I shut his mouth with a kiss.

It was a very good kiss. I'd learned more than a few things in Jehanne's bed. I wanted Bao to relent, and he did. His lips softened and parted to admit my tongue, letting it war and dance with his. Hard and deep, I kissed him, tasting fire and heated metal in his essence. It was like breathing in a forge, overheated and intoxicating. We complemented one another. And after a long, thorough kiss, I lifted my head. "Aye?"

"….. in love," Bao mumbled.

"I might." I traced the outer curve of his ear with the tip of my tongue, then spiraled inward, teasing and tantalizing. "You never know."

He made an inarticulate noise, grabbed my head, and returned my kiss.

More fire.

More hot metal.

I nearly purred when Bao lifted me, it felt so good. I'd been celibate too long. I wrapped my legs around his waist, nuzzled his neck.

"Good?" he asked in my cabin.

"Good," I agreed.

And it was good, stone and sea! So good. The vast ship rocked beneath me; Bao rocked and thrust above me, propped on arms corded with lean muscle, his eyes half-lidded and his expression intense, at once distant and present. His phallus filled me and his hips rose and fell, buttocks flexing, joining me at the exact right spot, the exact right angle. I spread my legs wider, arched my back and welcomed him deeper and deeper inside me, my hips rising to meet him again and again, ankles locked around his hips. My blood pounded in my veins, urged onward by the snowdrop bulb's decoction, until I climaxed hard beneath him, nails digging helplessly into his skin.

"Oh, the hell with destiny!" I gasped.

Bao laughed deep in his chest.

On and on it went. In my little cabin, we made love a half a dozen times in a half a dozen different ways, all of them good, until we were both gleaming with sweat and thoroughly wrung out. I could feel the presence of Naamah smiling on me, her smile filled with grace. The bright lady was content.

So was I.

"Do you think he knew?" I asked, my head resting on Bao's thigh, near his lolling phallus. I traced its veined length with one fingertip, feeling it twitch under my touch, unsure if I had the energy to see if I could awaken it one more time. "Master Lo, I mean."

He gave me a look. "Of course. Don't you?"

"Aye." I met his gaze. "So….. why?" Bao shrugged. I took a firm grip on his phallus and tugged. "Why?"

He yelped. I let go.

"All right, all right!" Bao sighed. "That I cannot tell you. But I will tell you something else if you like. You want to know how I became Master Lo's magpie?"

"Mm-hmm."

He folded his arms behind his head, leaning against the pillow. "In the circus, there were stick-fighters. By day, they perform like a dance. All part of the show. At night they take wagers and fight with townspeople, make better money. Sometimes there are good fighters in the village and they lose. Only one man, Brother Lei, he never lose no matter what. His name, it means thunder." He shrugged again. "I wanted to learn stick-fighting. I ask Brother Thunder to teach me."

I propped my chin on my hands. "Why?"

"Those fighters, everyone look up to them. They do what they like. An acrobat, it's not such a good life. Not so much respect. I wanted to be a fighter. Maybe it is in my blood, I think. I wanted it like a starving man wants food." Bao smiled wryly. "Also I was in love with Brother Thunder's daughter, Lin. I was thirteen and stupid. So I ask and he say, 'You be my peach-bottom boy, I teach you.'"

"Peach-bottom….. ?"

Bao gave me a sidelong glance. "Uh-huh. Brother Thunder, he say if ever I beat him fair, no more—" He supplied the lewd gesture.

I swallowed. "How long?"

"Two years." His expression was cynical. "I beat him fair. Then I ask Lin to run away with me." He shook his head. "But she was angry at me for destroying her father's reputation. People made fun of him for losing to a boy."

"Did she know about the—?" I gestured.

"No." His face softened. "Lin, she loved her father. I couldn't tell her. Too much shame for everyone."

I didn't know what to say.

"So." Bao blew out his breath and flexed his hands together. Muscles in his upper arms tensed and rippled. "I ran away alone to Shuntian. There, I fight for myself. I give myself a new name. At first everyone wants to fight me because I'm young. But I keep winning more than losing, getting better and better. There was this gang. One by one, I beat them all. It took years, but I was patient. Then one day, I beat the leader. The next day, I was the leader."

"What sort of gang?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Usual kind. We made merchants and people give us money to protect them whether they need it or not. Beat up their rivals for money. That sort of thing. Pretty good living for a peasant-boy sold to the circus."

"Oh."

The cynical look returned. "Not so sure you like me now, huh?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "But I'm listening."

Bao looked away. "So maybe five, six years go by. Good years, I think. Anything I want. Wine, women. Whatever I like. I don't even have to fight so much. Everyone, they know I'm good. Nobody want to challenge me. One day, Master Lo, he comes to this place, the square in Shuntian where the stick-fighters meet. He says he looks for a companion for this long journey to the land of angels. Someone clever to help him in all things, someone bold who did not fear danger. Someone humble and willing to learn about the Way."

My diadh-anam flared in memory. "And you knew!"

He shook his head. "I laughed. Everyone laughed. In Shuntian we said the great Master Lo Feng has lost his mind. Why else would he ask a bunch of no-good thugs for help?"

"Oh."

"Uh-huh." He nodded. "Two days later, this boy comes to me. Some peasant-boy from the country. He asks me to teach him to fight. Young—not so young as I was, but young. Fourteen, fifteen. Still like a willow. He wants to learn from the best." Bao pursed his lips. "I made him the same offer Brother Thunder made me."

I sat up and shivered, withdrawing instinctively.

"I don't know why," Bao mused. "Only he reminds me of me. That stupid boy who wanted to be a stick-fighter so bad he was willing to do anything to learn. And I wanted to punish him for it."

A long silence stretched between us. "Did you?" I asked at last.

"No." He gazed into the past. "The boy took off his clothes. Now he looks like a plucked chicken, shivering."

I saw the memory surface in his thoughts. A naked boy, trembling, the narrow blades of his shoulders hunched in fear. And Bao…..

"You walked away," I said softly. "You walked away from all of it."

It didn't seem to surprise him. "Yes. For some reason, all I could think of was Master Lo Feng's offer. Maybe he knew what he was doing after all. Maybe it was meant for me. I was clever and bold, but I had forgotten how to be humble, and I never had any teacher who was kind and wise. I wanted to be someone different. So I walked away from that boy, from that gang, from that city. I took my best staff. Nothing else. I even left behind the name I had given myself. I took back the baby-name my mother called me."