His face remained impassive. “Yes, of course. But that means streaking again.”

She blanched. “Oh. Well. I guess it can’t be avoided. Just remind me not to eat right before we go somewhere. So where are we going?”

“Somewhere neutral and safe for the moment. I have to cast a spell in order to locate the Phoenixes. I can find the ruler of the Mysticals quite easily if I can get in touch with a certain Djynn I know.”

“So you’re saying that the Djynn and the Night Angels are already on your side? And these six other Nightwalkers?”

“I am saying exactly that.”

“What are the other six like?” she asked.

“Well, as far as I can tell, they are peaceful, intelligent, and politically sound.”

“High praise coming from you, I guess.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean you strike me as the sort who doesn’t give praise too often.”

“I suppose not,” he agreed. “I give it when and where it is deserved.” He took her measure. “For instance, I think you should know I consider you to be a very brave young woman.”

She snorted a laugh. “I’m fifty-two. I’m hardly young.”

“You are young by my standards. You look as though you are twenty at most. Forgive me if I insulted you.”

“Nah. All women like to hear that they look young.” She smiled at him a little uncertainly, again hoping he would smile back.

He did not.

“You deflect compliments quite adroitly,” he said in a musing tone.

She felt a flush creep up her neck and burn into her cheeks. Blushing. Another sign of her humanity. Another thing that set her apart from other Wraiths.

“We should get going,” she said, turning her back to him.

He was silent a moment and she couldn’t see his expression with her back to him, but after a long moment he said, “Very well. Give me your hand.”

She held her hand out, waiting for him to grab it.

“Turn and face me and put your hand in mine,” he said, enunciating the request softly and slowly.

She turned and faced him, her whole being focused on not flushing under his regard of her. He held out his hand and waited.

Why couldn’t he just take her hand and go from there? Why was he making such a production out of it?

She sighed and slid her hand into his. His fingers immediately tightened around hers and she braced herself for the nauseating flight into the streak. But instead of that he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed them against her knuckles in a whispery kiss. She blushed then, straight to the roots of her hair.

“I like that,” he said softly.

“Like what?” she asked dazedly.

“The way you blush. It brings color to your cheeks. A very pretty color.”

His words broke the spell for her. She went to pull away, but to her consternation he held tight.

“What’s wrong with what I just said?” he asked her.

“Nothing. Can we go please?”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong. Why can’t you accept a simple compliment?”

“It’s not simple,” she said irritably. “Wraiths aren’t supposed to blush. They’re not able to. It’s just another way I’m different than the rest of them.”

He looked down into her eyes very intently and said, “Sometimes different is better.”

“Yeah? Well, tell that to my family,” she said wryly.

“There is more to life than pleasing family,” he said.

“Not to my life,” she said.

“Maybe before. But now all of that has changed. And, I think, it’s for the best.”

Then he whipped them into the streak.

—

Kamen didn’t know what had possessed him to act the way he had before the streak. To kiss her hand? To pay her compliments? But it had really bothered him that she thought so little of herself. Thought herself undeserving. He didn’t know why it should bother him, but it did. They came out of the streak and into his room at the New Mexico compound. He quickly grabbed for a trash can and held it out to her in case she needed it. But once again she impressed him with her ability to ride out the nausea of the streak. Soon she would get used to it, but for now it would continue to bother her.

While she composed herself he walked into the sitting room adjacent to his bedroom. All of the furniture had been pushed back earlier and the components of a location spell had been laid out. He had already used them once to locate the Wraiths. Now he would do it again to locate the Phoenixes. The Mysticals he would save for last since he deemed the Empress the easiest to make contact with.

He had already created an image of a phoenix which he would center the spell around. It was not an image of an actual Phoenix, but a representation of the bird most commonly associated with the term.

He lit a candle and seated himself in the center of the circle he’d drawn out using the ash of an apple tree. There were three covered jars seated at three of the four compass points and he was seated at the fourth. The south position. He took the lit rosemary candle and touched it to each jar and then to himself, rubbing a bit of wax off each time. Then he settled the candle into its holder once more. He was aware of Viève entering the room and watching him, but to her credit, she didn’t say anything. She let him focus on the task at hand.

It was a simple spell overall. A few common components, herbs and such. But the price that was paid for the information was anything but simple. As he spoke the words of the spell pain began to lance through him. He began to feel as though he were being pulled apart in four directions, north, east, south, and west. He ground his teeth together to keep from shouting out. He didn’t want to disturb his guest with the details of the spell. She was skittish enough as it was.

But he was hiding nothing from Viève. She could see he was in pain however much he tried to hide it. She twisted her hands together anxiously, wanting to make him stop. It wasn’t worth it, she kept thinking. And then she would remember what was at stake and understood why he was willing to go through the pain. It was so strange, she thought. She had never known such a selfless individual before. Wraiths were notoriously selfish, always wanting to know what was in it for them. The Doyen’s behavior exemplified that. He would only help as long as there was something to be gained for himself and the Wraith race. It didn’t matter what the consequences were to anyone else if he refused. All that mattered to him was what way would benefit him the most.