Chapter 5: Dusk Hands

On the fourth evening Shiori did not wait for the howl.

She climbed the king's tower with a basin of hot water and a clean cloth, and she knocked once.

"Come in," he said.

He was at a big desk covered in border reports, with his sleeves pushed to the elbow and his grey ears turned toward the door.

When he saw the basin, they went back.

"That's for me?"

"It's for your back."

He set down the quill.

"I told you I'd explain," he said. "I haven't yet."

"You'll explain when you can. This is a different problem."

She put the basin on the desk.

"Last night you stayed in the yard, and it burned for four hours."

She folded her arms.

"The night you came to my door, it burned for twenty minutes."

"I know. I counted."

"So I think it's both of us. I think the mark is easier when we're close."

The king looked at her for a long moment.

"That is not a medical opinion," he said.

"It's a nursing opinion. Take your shirt off."

He stayed very still.

Then he stood, turned his back to her, and unbuttoned his shirt slowly.

The shirt slid off his shoulders.

His back was broad and marked with old pale lines, and between the shoulder blades the silver seal lay dull as old coins.

The sun was just touching the edge of the western window.

Shiori put her palm flat on the seal.

His whole body jolted.

The skin was hot.

Under her hand the mark came awake, a pulse and then a glow, silver light seeping up between her fingers.

At the same moment her own seal woke on her back, warm instead of burning.

"There," she whispered.

"Don't speak," he said.

His voice was rough.

His head had dropped forward, and his grey tail, which had been rigid, loosened and curled slowly around his own leg.

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