There was a quiet rap on the door, and Liam came in.
“I was just leaving,” Thayet said. She winked at Alanna and went out, closing the door.
His face scarlet, Liam watched the floor as he spoke. “You shouldn’t’ve taken the dress off. You look very pretty in it. I guess sometimes we get used to seeing a person a certain way.”
It was all the apology she would ever get from him, she knew. Alanna patted the bed beside her, and Liam sat. “I like dresses,” she explained. “If you come with us to Tortall, you’ll see me wearing more of them. Just because I’m a knight doesn’t mean I don’t like pretty clothes.” She grinned at him. “I’ve even worn face paint, sometimes.”
When he looked startled, she explained, “You know, lip rouge, and so on. I’m not ashamed of being female, Liam.”
Tentatively, he brushed Alanna’s hair with his hands. “I didn’t think you were. I never forget you’re a woman, Lioness.” His first kiss was gentle, the second passionate. Alanna let him pull her into his arms, thinking, We should talk some more about why he was angry. I don’t think lovemaking will settle anything. The Dragon was so determined, however, that once again she put her questions aside to be dealt with later.
An hour later, as they dressed for dinner, she asked, “Are there any Lionesses in Shang?”
Liam stretched, thinking. “Not for fifty years. The women prefer names they don’t think are ‘flashy.’ That means not many Lionesses or Dragons. My master in kick fighting was the Wildcat. She always said if the men wished to attract attention, that was their problem.”
“But mythic beasts are ‘flashy’ by nature, I should think,” protested Alanna. “Or don’t you let women get to those ranks?”
“Try to stop them!” he grinned. “Right now there’s me, the Griffin—also a man—and Kylaia al Jmaa, the Unicorn. She’s the most beautiful thing on two feet, all silk and steel and lightning.” He tweaked her nose. “Satisfied?”
Their group had dinner in the room Thayet and Buri shared, not bored enough to go down to the common room yet. They were filled with a weird sense of mingled excitement and apprehension, but no one cared to talk about it. What could they do now? Wait until Chitral cleared?
Alanna didn’t think she could wait that long. Though she didn’t know why, she had a strong feeling that she had to get home.
They amused themselves the next morning by catching up on chores that went neglected while they were on the road. Alanna and Coram spent the hours after breakfast mending tack in the stables. Liam worked on his fighting gear as Thayet mended clothes and Buri cleaned the weapons. By lunchtime all of them were ready for diversion. They went to the common room to see who else was kept there by the storm.
Two companies of merchants were present: One bore spices to the valley north of Lumuhu and Chitral, the other furs and hand-woven goods south to Port Udayapur. They were joined by four locals—two shepherds, a blacksmith, and a guide—and a group of five Doi. The Doi were as interested in Alanna and her friends as the knight was in them. They exchanged looks with Alanna throughout the meal.
“Liam,” Alanna whispered, trying not to seem obvious, “the Doi woman with the onyx in the middle of her brow—who is she?”
Liam nodded gravely to the Doi. They hid their eyes briefly, a sign the Dragon said meant respect. “A fortune-teller,” he answered. “The Doi give them as much honor as you’d give a priest. Each fortune-teller works differently. Some read tea leaves in a cup. Some tell your future from the stars. I had my future done once. It’s interesting.”
She was surprised. “You don’t like magic.”
Liam shook his head. “This isn’t the same. No sparkly fire, nothing flying at you, or things changing. A Doi looks at something real.”
One of the Doi men came over, covering his eyes briefly to show his respect for Liam. “Dragonman, we are of the Rockmouse people.”
“I know the Rockmouse,” replied Liam.
“Our Lady-Who-Sees, Mi-chi, she knows time lies heavy, out of the wind. If you wish, she will tell your hands, all of you.”
“We will be honored.” Liam stood, telling the others softly, “It’s an insult to say no.”
Thayet sat beside Mi-chi when the fortune-teller beckoned to her. “I read hands,” Mi-chi said. Her voice was deep, her eyes dark and mysterious. “It is said the hand you use to draw a bow or to stir a pot will reveal that part of you others can see. The less-used hand, that is your inner self.”
Thayet nodded. “I’m right-handed.”
Mi-chi took the princess’s left hand, holding it palm up. No one spoke as she ran her fingers over the lines in Thayet’s palm. Curious, Alanna probed with her Gift. The fortune-teller’s magic was like Bazhir magic; it was drawn from the land rather than from a source inside the person who wielded it.
“What do you see?” Thayet wanted to know.
Mi-chi smiled at her. “You have lost your chains only, great lady. Follow your heart. It leads you to a mighty place. And forget your home. You will never return there.”
Thayet rose and walked over to the hearth, keeping her face away from them. Buri watched her royal mistress for a moment before taking her place beside the Doi woman. “Whatever it is you have to say, whisper it, all right?” she asked as she offered her right hand.
Mi-chi agreed, and afterward Buri refused to say what she’d been told. Coram was next, and he asked the same favor. When he stood, he was smiling—whatever his own future held, he seemed to like the prospect.
Mi-chi smiled at Liam. “You know your fate already, Dragon-man. Nothing I may say will change it, or your knowledge of it.” She looked at Alanna. “You, please.”
Alanna took the seat beside Mi-chi, offering her left hand. Mi-chi took both, studying the knight’s callused palms intently. When she spoke, Alanna could feel a power in her words that was nothing like the Doi magic she’d sensed earlier. This was stronger and untamed.
“He waits, old Chitral.” Mi-chi’s voice was harsh. “He knows you have come for his prize. He will not surrender it if you are unworthy.” Alanna’s friends gathered close, listening. “Do you think it will matter if you await this storm’s end before you set out? He has others to throw at you.”
“I’m not trying that pass in the middle of a blizzard!” Alanna protested.
“Then your desire, or whatever it is that drives you, is not enough.” Mi-chi’s eyes were mocking. “Make no mistake, hero from the flatlands. Chitral fights you with his snows and winds. All who would face him must battle on his terms, or not at all.” Dropping Alanna’s hands, the Doi looked at Liam. “Dragon-man, do you bring your kitten to us for testing? You may not want the grown cat.”
“I don’t bring Alanna anywhere, wise-woman. She picks her own road.”
Mi-chi stood, shaking. One of her companions came to support her. “Do not forget that, Dragon-man.” Her voice rasped with exhaustion. “She is a champion, like you, but different. Always different.” The Doi helped her to her rooms.
Alanna rubbed her hands on her breeches—they still tingled with both Mi-chi’s Doi magic and the other magic that had spoken through the fortune-teller. “It sounds … I don’t know. I’m not a hero, not yet.”
Buri slung an arm around Alanna’s shoulders. “Glad to hear it. Come on out to the stables and we’ll practice some kick fighting.”