When the flute stilled, Danica rose once again onto the balls of her feet for an instant. She smiled at me before she began the most complex of the intre'marl: Maeve's solo from the Namir-da.

What had been praise and beauty became passion. Maeve's dance was a seduction, and the way Danica held my eyes made me feel it. Seeing my mate perform those steps made me want to join her, as any royal-born serpiente would.

The holiday for which the Namir-da had been named was still four months away; she would be able to perform then, and I with her, in a ritual that dated back to the creation of my kind.

The music was softening, in prelude to the end, when Danica stumbled, losing the beat precariously close to the edge of the dais. I crossed the room without a thought and caught her with barely enough time to brace myself and keep us both from tumbling to the floor. My heart was pounding painfully beneath my ribs.

A'isha had followed me, and she seemed instantly relieved when she saw that I had caught her charge. "Danica, are you..." She broke off when it became obvious that Danica could not hear her.

There was no blood, no wound. I cradled Danica against my chest. "Danica?" Avians didn't faint. Their systems utilized oxygen at a rate fast enough to keep the body supplied during a long flight against wind. Danica had only ever passed out from poisoning  -  assassination attempts, to be exact, during the tumultuous time after we had first declared the war between our civilizations over.

"Ooh." The light sound escaped from her throat, and her eyes fluttered open  -  golden eyes, a shade darker than her hair. Her brow creased with confusion.

"Zane." Danica's voice was tentative, as if she wasn't quite sure how she had gotten there. She smiled wryly and started to sit up.

The movement was aborted; one hand flew to her fore head, and she fell back, taking one deep breath after another.

"What happened?" I tried to keep the worry from my voice as I looked frantically around the nest, searching for threats. The other dancers were watching us from a careful distance.

"I'll... be okay," Danica asserted. "I was just... dizzy." She accepted help standing, but once she was up, her balance seemed to return quickly; she rested one hand on my arm, though I sensed that touch was more from habit than weakness.

A'isha looked from one of us to the other, and her expression slid from worried to startled to amused. "Little hawk, you've never been faint before," the dancer said.

"It's hot in here, and I've been tired and nervous," Danica argued. "Perhaps this was too much." She tucked her head down, suddenly realizing that she had fainted in front of an audience.

"Bring her to rest, Zane," A'isha ordered, apparently not daunted by the fact that she was addressing her king. Inside the nest, no one ever was. "I hear your sister's mate makes an excellent raspberry-ginger tea. I suggest you get the recipe. Now off with you." A'isha's hinted meaning suddenly dawned on me, and I could not help pulling Danica against me to kiss her. "Is she right?" I asked, my mind tumbling with too many thoughts to put into words.

"I don't know what she's talking about," Danica responded, leaning against me. "I hate raspberry tea."

I tried not to laugh; Danica's innocence asserted itself at odd moments, and right now nothing could keep me from grinning. "Danica, Danica..." Concerns returned abruptly when I touched her skin. Serpiente were cold-blooded, but Danica was a hawk; her skin was always warm, almost hot. Now it was dangerously chilled. "You're cold."

"I'm just tired," she protested, but I could feel her shivering. All delight disappeared. "A'isha?"

The dancer came quickly to my side. "Yes?"

"Would you send some of the Royal Flight to the Keep for Danica's doctor?" Saying the words made any problem more real somehow, more frightening.

A'isha frowned. "Of course. Meanwhile, your mate may rest downstairs." Danica pushed away. "Zane, I'm not  -  "

"Danica, you can fly for hours under the Mediterranean sun without being winded; dancing shouldn't leave you this drawn," I pointed out. "The nest is designed to hold in warmth; it is never cold."

I understood her refusal to acknowledge any problem. The last thing either of us wanted to imagine was that something was wrong.

Please, let it be simple. Please, let it be ..

I cut the thought off. I knew what I wanted Danica's ailment to be, what A'isha thought it was, still I feared the worst.

Chapter 3

Before we reached the stairs at the back of the nest, we heard bright voices by the front door, a chorus of welcomes as the dancers one by one recognized the newcomer. Danica turned slowly, forcing me to do the same.

I caught a glimpse of a dark-haired avian woman wearing a vibrant blue dress in a style I had never seen before. She was talking animatedly with A'isha, and though I recognized the old language, I could not follow a word. The newcomer spoke it fluently, as almost no one did these days.

Eventually A'isha shook her head, admitting, "I've been studying the old language since I was a child, but you've surpassed me."

The stranger beamed. "I never could have managed without your teachings." Danica blinked with surprise. "Valene?"

The raven turned, excusing herself from the dancers to greet Danica and me with a curtsy. Rei walked behind her, obviously a little uncomfortable inside sha'Mehay. For a moment I wondered why he had been allowed inside at all  -  guards were let into the nest even more rarely than cobras  -  and then I recalled that A'isha was teaching him.

"Milady Shardae. Diente Zane," Valene greeted us. "It is good to see you both." A'isha followed her and gave the raven a knowing glance. "Your Tuuli Thea was about to go lie down; she was feeling faint. Zane, one of my dancers went to fetch the palace doctor, and another is off in search of a bird to fly the message to the Keep  -  Andreios, relax," she said, stopping the crow before he demanded an explanation. "There is no problem. Zane is simply being overprotective in the most charming way." Rei looked at me, but Danica spoke before I could. "I think I will go take a nap," she said softly, forestalling Rei's questions. "Zane, Rei, I forbid you from worrying. There is nothing wrong with me that rest will not heal, and you need to talk to Valene."

"Sensible woman," A'isha asserted.

I was torn between the desire to accompany Danica and the knowledge that Syfka would return too soon.

"I'll walk her down and stay by her door," Rei suggested, seeing my hesitation. "If she wakes or anything happens, I'm sure you'll be nearby."

I would rather stay and forget about the falcons entirely, but when it came to Danica's safety, I trusted the crow unconditionally. Andreios had known and loved Danica all her life. Too much the gentleman to speak of love for another man's mate, he never raised the topic, but only continued to defend his Tuuli Thea as I felt sure he would with his last breath.

Seeing our anxiety, A'isha sighed. "I don't know what all the fuss is about," she said.

"Women have been having children forever. Rei can take care of her. You have work to do and your mate wouldn't approve of you shirking your duty when she's in no danger at all."

As Rei had predicted, I arranged to have my conversation with Valene in the room next to the one where Danica was resting.

"Andreios says you have had a visit from Syfka?" the raven asked, as I tried to turn my thoughts from my mate to the current situation.

I nodded, taking a deep breath.

"The falcons have lost someone, and seem to think we might have him. Our knowledge of their world is sadly lacking, and I thought it best to learn more before Syfka returns. Erica suggested that you might be able to help."

"Thank you for the compliment," Valene answered. "Among my adventures, I spent several months as a student on the falcon island. What did Syfka have to say about the lost falcon?"

"Only that he  -  or she  -  was a criminal, that he might have changed his appearance so we would never even know what gender he was, and that he might have asked for asylum among our people. So far, no one has come up with any ideas." Valene explained, "The falcons' easiest magics include illusions so strong they can fool every sense. We would never be able to recognize one of their kind, if he wanted to hide. As for gender..." She laughed a little. "I've seen such a switch made with illusions, though I've never heard of it being maintained for much time. Still, Syfka is probably certain that if she names one gender, our little minds won't think to consider someone who appears the other."

"If that's the case, how could Syfka expect us to recognize this criminal?" Valene shook her head. "I doubt she does. Falcons aren't quick to overestimate anyone else," she added. "Most likely she asked for your help primarily as a formality."

"That kind of formality seems out of place, considering her opinion of our kind." Valene paused as if considering. "It is hard to explain. On the falcon island, appearances and conventions are crucially important. The polite face is unnerving in a city where torture and manipulation are condoned."

"If you spent time on the island recently, do you know anything about the criminal they're looking for?"

Valene let out a half caw, a barking laugh that crows and ravens had a tendency toward.

"The word 'recently' is nonsense, since more than a century may go by before the Empress turns her attention to an unpleasant matter, and asking 'which falcon criminal?'

is like asking 'which leaf?' while standing in the forest." She shook her head. "Falcon law is strict. So much as disagreeing with the Empress can get one executed, even if she was wrong. The criminal they are looking for now may have done nothing more than accidentally curse in the Empress's presence and then flee her punishment: execution by torture. Of course, no one on the island would dare argue with the sentence. Implying that the royal family is anything but flawless, just and merciful is considered treason, and punishable by death."

A chill went down my spine. Since Danica and I divided our time between our two courts, I had grown used to avian politics, which were slightly more formal than my own, but even Danica did not hold herself that far above those she ruled. Our people had the right to question their monarchs' judgment; their voices had kept tragedies from occurring in the past. The falcon civilization Valene described sounded horrific.

"I could give you a course in falcon etiquette, but no matter what you do, Syfka will find some reason to disapprove of you," Valene admitted. "You'll either be rude or obsequious, stupid or arrogant. Falcons are raised with the idea that their kind is superior to any other. When it comes to magic, strength, stamina or recall, they are." And well aware of it,

I thought cynically, remembering Syfka's arrogance. Even without a history of practicing black magic, the falcons gave the world good reason to hate them.

"My advice is to treat Syfka courteously, and try to see to what she wants without completely disrupting the palace. Also, if A'isha's hints are correct, it would be best if the falcon does not see Danica again."

"They might not respect either of us, but the falcons have definitely shown more of a preference for avians in the last few thousand years," I pointed out. "Might Syfka behave more civilly with Danica?"

Valene hesitated for an instant, but then met my gaze and said bluntly, "In Ahnmik, it's a scandal if a gyrfalcon has a child with a peregrine, even if both are of equal rank. A match between, say, a hawk and a falcon, two very similar creatures, is seen as disgusting; any child born of them is considered mongrel, a travesty of nature. If Danica really is carrying your child, and Syfka realizes this, the falcon will be horrified. I don't think she would harm it, but..." She trailed off, then finished, "The falcons prize children above almost anything, but Syfka might not see a cobra-hawk as a child." I appreciated the warning, but at the same time, I knew my gaze was icy when I looked at Valene.

Would my own people see the match the same way? If our child was born with onyx hair and golden eyes, would both serpiente and avians look at her with disgust for the cross, and sorrow for the loss of pure-blooded cobra or hawk features?

What if the child was born a hawk like its mother, never to spread a cobra's hood?

Would I look at it and regret the loss of my own bloodline?

A knock at the door made us both turn to find Andreios already stepping into the room.

"Betsy is here," he said. Before I could even move past him, he continued, "She was scandalized enough that I was sitting by Danica's door when she arrived; I can guarantee you that she won't allow you into the room until she is certain about Danica's condition."

Despite her petite stature and habit of smoothing down the ruffled feathers at the back of her neck when agitated, Danica's doctor, Betsy, was probably one of the most formidable women I had ever met. If Rei said she would not let me into the room, I knew I would have better luck arm-wrestling Syfka than fighting my way in.

"Perhaps we should retreat to the main nest?" Rei suggested. Even though he knew no more than I did, the crow seemed perfectly calm. Avians always appeared calm; it was a talent they cultivated and respected. In situations like this, it was also damnably annoying.

Valene took up the movement. "I will keep thinking, but I believe I've shared all the useful knowledge of falcons I have. I'm sorry it wasn't more helpful." We started upstairs, though I paused by Danica's door, entertaining the notion of walking in and testing whether Betsy would really throw me out. I dismissed the idea quickly. One person I would always obey was the very respected doctor who was looking after the woman I loved. I trusted Betsy's judgment, even though we occasionally disagreed on propriety.