Challenges by Sharon Green Page A

became aware of how Vallant had begun to rub her hand and wrist. The brisk action brought her back a short way, and that was when deep shock moved aside for extreme pain.
    “No, it’s all right,” Vallant said quickly and softly when she started to sob. “That sentence was terrible, but no one can say she didn’t earn it. She was the one who came after
you
, and no one was makin’ her do it. She went ahead and acted as she pleased because she refused to believe she’d ever be caught and punished. This is all
her
fault, not yours.”
    “I … should have … looked harder for … a way to … stop her,” Jovvi sobbed, dizzy with guilt and horror. “It’s all … my fault, and … now she’ll die just … like my father did.”
    That part was the hardest for Jovvi to bear, the knowledge that Allestine had been sent to the deep mines. They were a hundred times worse than the mine her father had died in, and all the workers were prisoners. Allestine was a hundred times more likely to die, and Jovvi knew it was all
her
fault.
    “That witch won’t die,” Vallant said as Jovvi cried against him, holding her tight in his arms. “Once she comes out of the shock, she’ll start hatin’. She’ll hate the man who made her pay for what she did, she’ll hate the law that let him do it, and she’ll hate you for bein’ the cause of it all. It won’t be her own greed and stupidity that caused her downfall, it’ll be all
your
fault. So you see you don’t have to blame yourself, because she’ll be doin’ it for you.”
    That line of reasoning was so absurd that it got Jovvi’s attention, and after a moment she was forced to admit that Vallant was probably right. It took away only a very small amount of the pain, but enough of it that she was able to sit straight and accept the water the bailiff brought. After sipping at it she noticed that they were the last ones left in the room, everyone else having gone without her seeing it.
    “As soon as you feel a bit stronger, we’ll start to take you home,” Vallant said, and oddly enough his tone had shifted to pomposity again. “I knew a weak little thing like you couldn’t handle somethin’ like this alone, and I mean to tell Mardimil I was right as soon as we get back to the residence.”
    Vallant had reverted to the game he and Rion had been playing earlier that morning, and Jovvi didn’t understand why—until she suddenly realized that there was someone lurking behind one of the partially closed doors at the front of the room. The someone was a Spirit magic user, and he was delighted with what he heard and felt.
    “I’m not weak,” Jovvi protested stiffly as soon as she understood what was going on, putting the proper sense of insult on the surface of her mind. “This was all a terrible shock, and anyone in my position would have reacted the same.”
    “Of course any woman would have acted the same,” Vallant returned with grating indulgence. “But that just proves I know women a lot better than Mardimil does. Are you ready to get goin’ yet? I promised myself a good long soak in the bath house, and I’m lookin’ forward to it.”
    “Yes, certainly I’m ready,” Jovvi muttered as she handed the water glass back to the bailiff, who was fighting not to show his extreme disapproval. Then she rose stiffly to her feet, her inner self rigid because of the contact with Vallant’s supporting arm, and let herself be urged out of the room. She felt as though she’d been put through that very first test again, and was incredibly grateful that Vallant had noticed that eavesdropper. Now they were leaving the properly false impression behind them, and they could go home feeling they’d accomplished something.
    But it would be quite some time before Jovvi got over what she’d been forced to witness.
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Delin Moord glanced into the dining room as he passed it, but only Selendi and Homin were in there, giggling as they fed each other. It came