We met in the garden. Furi’s gaze caught mine and both of us shuddered. I sensed every vibration, read every thought as though it traveled across an invisible thread stretching taut between us. She read me similarly, and although it forged a mutual sympathy, it couldn’t meld us together.


    My mouth opened as though to speak, but I couldn’t verbalize, and instead I sent the words into her mind. “I am going.”


    “Where?”


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    “To the capital. To my army.”


    “Not to war!”


    My gaze dropped to the ground. “I don’t know what will remain of the revolution. Perhaps there will be a blood war, but perhaps not. Either way, I’ll report tomorrow.”


    Tears filled her eyes, and she was forced to hide from me again until she could control the poisonous flood.


    * * *


    At last, she emerged, dry-eyed and with a proposition. “Ansei, I won’t forbid your returning to your army. But I will ask you to delay a little while.”


    She would have perceived my desperation for any excuse, any compromise by which I could justify staying. “Tell me what you want.”


    “Take me to the records.”