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nes turned to horror when its owner； Quaisoir's many…tailed handmaiden； Concupiscentia； saw that her mistress had gained a twin and lost her eyes in the night she'd spent looking for salvation。 Only after a good deal of lamentation could she be persuaded to tend to Quaisoir； which she did with trembling hands。 The et was by now making its steep ascent； and from Quaisoir's window Jude had a panoramic view of the desolation。 She'd heard and seen enough in her short time here to realize that Yzordderrex had been ripe for the calamity that had overtaken it； and some in this city； perhaps many； had fanned the fire that had destroyed the Kesparates； calling it a just and cleansing flame。 Even Peccable…who hadn't got an anarchist bone in his bodyhad intimated that Yzordderrex's time had e。 But Jude still mourned its passing。 This was the city she'd begged Oscar to show her； whose air had smelled so temptingly spicy； and whose warmth； issuing from the Retreat that day； had seemed paradisiacal。 Now she would return to the Fifth Dominion with its ash on her soles and its smuts in her nose； like a tourist back from Venice with pictures of bubbles in a lagoon。
〃I'm so tired；〃 Quaisoir said。 〃Will you mind if I sleep？〃
〃Of course not；〃 Jude said。
〃Is Seidux's blood still on the bed？〃 she asked Concupiscentia。
〃It is； ma'am。〃
〃Then I won't lie there； I think。〃 She put out her arm。 〃Lead me to the little blue room。 I'll sleep there。 Judith； you should sleep too。 Bathe and sleep。 We've got so much to plan together。〃
〃We do？〃
〃Oh； yes； sister；〃 Quaisoir said。 〃But later。。。。〃
She let Concupiscentia lead her away； leaving Jude to wander through the chambers which Quaisoir had occupied all her years of power。 There was indeed a little blood on the sheets； but the bed looked tempting nevertheless； the scent off it dizzyingly strong。 She refused its lush blandishments； however； and moved in search of a bathroom； anticipating another chamber of baroque excess。 In fact it proved to be the only room in the suite that came within shouting distance of restraint； and she happily lingered there； running a hot bath and soaking some of the ashes out of her body while contemplating her misty reflection in its black tiles。
When she emerged； her skin tingling； the clothes she'd sloughed off…which were filthy and stinking…revolted her。 She left them on the floor and； instead； putting on the most subdued of the robes that lay scattered around the bedroom； took to the scented sheets。 A man had been killed here only a few hours before； but that thought…which would once have driven her from the room； much less the bed…concerned her not at all。 She didn't discount the possibility that this disinterest in the bed's sordid past was in part the influence of the scents off the pillow she laid her head upon。 They conspired with fatigue； and with the heat of the bath from which she'd risen； to induce a languor she couldn't have resisted had her life depended upon it。 The tension went from her sinews and joints； her belly gave up its jitters。 Closing her eyes； she let her sister's bed lull her into dreaming。
Even during his most despondent meditations at the Pivot pit； Sartori had never felt the emptiness of his condition as acutely as he did now that he was parted from his other。 Meeting Gentle in the tower and witnessing the Pivot's call to Reconciliation； he'd sensed new possibilities in the air： a marriage of self and self which would heal him into wholeness。 But Gentle had poured contempt on that vision； preferring his mystif spouse over his brother。 Perhaps he'd change his mind now that Pie 'oh' pah was dead； but Sartori doubted it。 If he were Gentle…and he was…the mystifs death would be obsessed upon and magnified until such time as it could be revenged。 The enmity between them was confirmed。 There'd be no reunion。
He shared none of this with Rosengarten； who found him up in the gazebo； guzzling chocolate and musing on his anguish。 Nor did he allow Rosengarten to recount the disasters of the night （the generals dead； the army murdered or mutinied） for very long without stopping him。 They had plans to lay together； he told the piebald man； and it was little use fretting over what was lost。
〃We're going to go to the Fifth； you and I；〃 he informed Rosengarten。 〃We're going to build a new Yzordderrex。〃
It wasn't often he'd won a response from the man； but he got one now。 Rosengarten smiled。
〃The Fifth？〃 he said。
〃I knew it many years ago； of course； but by all accounts it's naked now。 The Maestros I knew are dead。 Their wisdoms are dishonored。 The place is defenseless。 We'll take them with such sways they won't even know they've given up their Dominion until the New Yzordderrex is in their hearts and inviolate。〃
Rosengarten made a murmur of approval。
〃Make any farewells you have to make；〃 Sartori said。 〃And I'll make mine。〃
〃We're going now？〃
〃Before the fires are out；〃 the Autarch said。
It was a strange sleep Jude fell into； but she'd traveled in the country of the unconscious often enough to feel unintimidated there。 This time she didn't mpve from the room in which she lay but luxuriated in its excesses； rising and falling like the veils around the bed； and on the same smoky breeze。 Once in a while she heard some sound from the courtyards far below and allowed her eyes to flutter open for the sheer lazy pleasure of closing them again； and once she was woken by the sound of Concupiscentia's reedy voice as she sang in a distant room。 Though the words were inprehensible； Jude knew it was a lament； full of yearning for things that had passed and could never be again； and she slipped back into sleep with the thought that sad songs were the same in any language； whether Gaelic； Navaho； or Patashoquan。 Like the glyph of her body； this melody was essential； a sign that could pass between Dominions。
The music and the scent she lay upon were potent narcotics； and after a few melancholy verses of Concupiscentia's song she was no longer sure whether she was asleep； and hearing the lament in her dreams； or awake； but freed by Quaisoir's perfumes and wafted up into the folds of silks above her bed like a dreamer。 Whichever it was； she scarcely cared。 The sensations were pleasurable； and she'd had too little pleasure of late。
Then came proof that this was indeed a dream。 A doleful phantom appeared at the door and stood watching her through the veils。 She knew him even before he drew close to the bed。 This was not a face she'd thought of much hi recent times； so it was somewhat strange that she'd conjured him； but conjure him she had； and there was no denying the erotic charge she felt at his dreamed presence。 It was Gentle； perfectly remembered； his expression troubled the way it so often was； his hands stroking the veils as though they were her legs and could be parted with caresses；
〃I didn't think you'd be here；〃 he said to her。 His voice was raw； and his expression as full of loss as Concupis…centia's song。 〃When did you e back？〃
〃A little while ago。〃
〃You smell so sweet。〃
〃I bathed。〃
〃Looking at you tike this 。。。 it makes me wish I could take you with me。〃
〃Where are you going？〃
〃Back to the Fifth；〃 he said。 〃I've e to say goodbye。〃
〃From such a distance？〃 she said。
His face broke into an immoderate smile； and she remembered； seeing it； how easy seduction had always been for him： how women had slid then… wedding rings off and their knickers down when he shone this way。 But why be churlish？ This was an erotic whimsy； not a trial。 She dreamed that he saw the accusation in her eyes； however； and was begging her forgiveness。
〃I know I've done you harm；〃 he said。
〃That's in the past；〃 she replied magnanimously。
〃Looking at you now。。。〃
〃Don't be sentimental；〃 she said。 〃I don't want sentiment。 I want you here。〃
Opening her legs； she let him see the niche she had for him。 He didn't hesitate any longer； but pulled the veil aside and climbed onto the bed； wrenching the robe from her shoulders as he put his mouth against hers。 For some reason； she'd conjured him tasting of chocolate。 Another oddity； but not one that spoiled his kisses。
She tugged at his clothes； but they were a dream in