In the faint light, she could see what wall Tsem meant. She had fallen over the edge of what must be the stairwell she had been descending. The pool drowning her was a half-submerged hall; the stairs surely continued down to its floor, which must be another ten feet or so below her. How stupid she had been! If she could only get to the wall, she could make her way to where the stair entered the water and scramble back up on it.
Except that she was so tired. And what was Tsem doing? The light remained where it was.
Hezhi managed to get to the wall. It was slick, very slick, and she could find little purchase on it. Kicking for all that she was worth, she tried to use her hands to push herself along it, vowing that someone would teach her to swim, if she survived this.
At nearly the end of her strength, Hezhi heard a thunderous splash, and the surface of the water broke into a billion shards of pale lamplight. Before she could even gasp, arms like the stone columns that held up the Great Hall wrapped around her, tilting her back so that her face was well out of the water. Beneath her, she could feel powerful muscles churning, pushing them along. It was like being borne on a cyclone or a waterspout, like being the mistress of a storm.
By the time they reached the edge of the stair, Tsem was shuddering with effort. His breath came in great, labored gasps as he threw her up onto the mud and then flopped out onto the slope himself. Hezhi listened to him wheeze like an old dog, felt the burning in her own lungs.
"Am I so heavy, Tsem?" she asked, concerned for her loyal guard.
"No, Mistress," he replied, his voice coming between gulps at first, but then waxing stronger. "No, indeed, you weigh nothing. It is Tsem who is heavy. My kind were not meant to swim, I think."
"You have no kind, Tsem," Hezhi said, not realizing until several years later what a hurtful thing that was to speak.
Tsem was silent for a moment, then he laughed, a single harsh grunt. "True enough, Mistress. My mother, though—she was not designed to swim. Giants stay far and away from the water. And my father was Human, like you, little one—and probably no better at swimming than you are." He paused and then added, "He had a lot more sense, though."
With that he scooped her up, and Hezhi found herself lifted onto Tsem's massive shoulders. He crawled up the slope on all fours, until they reached the place where the lantern still burned patiently; Hezhi could now see that it rested on a landing, five paces of level stone just where the stairs entered at the top of the room. What ancient prince had built it thus, so that he could preen and pose at the top before descending to greet his guests?
Tsem set Hezhi down by the light and began to inspect her for wounds, his thick fingers very gentle.
He was a big man, though in age no more than seventeen years. He stood a head and a half taller than any other man she knew, and his shoulders were so broad she could scarce touch both with arms spread wide. Thick boned, he was, with muscles braided like ropes and cables beneath his pale skin. His legs were short, in proportion to his body, his arms long. His jaw was both massive and receding, and when he smiled his teeth were enormous ivory cubes, like the bone dice some of the soldiers gambled with. He had been trained since birth to be what he was, a guard for the royal line. His mother, now -nata, had been one of her father's elite, a full-blooded Giant and terrible to see in her armor. Tsem was less large—much more manlike than the full-blooded Giants—but he was much smarter. Her father had predicted this when he ordered the mating.
The two of them made an odd pair, the half Giant and the child. Hezhi had limbs like willow switches, her little brown face delicate, nearly heart-shaped, an elegant setting for the black opals of her eyes. Tsem could lift her with one fist if he wanted to. Instead, he prodded her long bones gently.
"You don't seem badly hurt," he said at last. "We should have Qey have a look at you, however. She knows much more of this than I."
"No, Tsem, I'm fine."
"Besides being insane, you mean."
"You should know better than to talk to me like that. I am your mistress, remember?"
"Yes, little one." Tsem sighed. "But your father is a higher master. He would be most upset with me should harm befall you. Anyway,"—Tsem shrugged—"I can't help it if I say the wrong thing now and then. Tsem not too bright, you know."
Hezhi laughed scornfully. "Yes, I've seen you do that trick before my father and his court. 'Tsem want to help.' 'Tsem not understand such things, Master.' But I know better, Tsem. And you know I know better."
"You know too much for someone so young," Tsem said softly.
"It must be the Royal Blood working in me," Hezhi replied, through a contrived smile.
Tsem's face clouded, his thick eyebrows coming together like twin thunderstorms. But beneath the clouds, his eyes were gentle, sad. He grasped her arm. "Don't even say that, Princess," he whispered.
Hezhi frowned. "I don't understand. I am my father's daughter. I carry the Royal Blood—from my mother's line, too. I will be like them, powerful. One day."
"One day," Tsem said, shaking his head as if to clear it. "But now let's get you back aboveground, to a proper bath and fresh clothes."
"No," Hezhi replied. She pressed herself away from the half Giant. "No. I'm going on."
"Oh? So you can keep falling into pools?"
"I should have brought a lantern, that's all. Now I have one. Say…" Hezhi frowned. "I thought I lost you, like always. How did you find me?"
Tsem grinned a little, showing his enormous teeth. "You not lose Tsem, little Mistress. Tsem always stay far back, always out of sight."
Hezhi reddened. "You're using your dumb voice. Because I thought you were dumb, too. But I guess I was the one who…" She broke off again, this time to stifle a sudden giggle.
"What?" Tsem demanded.
"I was just picturing someone your size sneaking around after me and D'en."
Tsem touched her lightly on the shoulder. "I'm sorry about D'enata."
"His name," Hezhi snapped, all sudden humor vanished, "is D'en. Nn! And I'm going to find him!"
"I knew that was what you were about!" Tsem exclaimed. "Princess, it is hopeless. Give up this notion. Try to forget your friend. It is all that you can do."
"I will not."
"Where will you go from here? Even with a lantern? Your trail ends there, in the water." He gestured at the submerged lower stair.
That silenced her. Tsem was right. Or was he? In her excitement, in arguing with Tsem, Hezhi had not looked around properly, now that she was able. But Tsem was indeed right. She could just barely see the arch of one door, there beyond the stair. If she could reach that, she might duck under it and find another room. Or she might not.
"I'll go back," she said, "but only so far as another turning. There are many ways down into this darkness. One must lead to D'en."
Tsem wagged a finger. "I will carry you out, Princess. Your father will thank me."
"And I will come back, Tsem. Again and again, until I either find him or fall too far for even you to save me. If you always follow me, you know what I think of doing, at times. And now that I know how smart you are, I think I may get away from you. I was never as clever as I could be, Tsem, since I didn't realize I had to be."
Tsem knitted his brows back together. "What do you want of me, Mistress? My task is to keep you safe. I can't let you run around down here. There are things down here."
"There are things up there, too."
"I don't mean ghosts, little Princess. Those are mostly harmless, and the priests keep the bad ones swept out. Down here there are real things. And the priests don't come down here to sweep."
Hezhi sighed. "My mind is made up. You can either go with me—where I want to go—or you can leave me alone. Which will it be? Protect me, or let me roam?"
"My head," Tsem growled, "is as likely to leave my shoulders either way."
"I wouldn't let them do that, Tsem."
"You have no control over such things, Princess."
For a moment, Hezhi nearly relented. Tsem was so good, so loyal. Almost as much a friend as D'en had been. But Tsem and all of the other servants kept a certain distance from her—even Qey, the woman who had nursed her, been all but completely her mother. Even Qey had been withdrawing from Hezhi these last few years. D'en had been unreserved with his affection.
"Tsem," Hezhi said evenly, "I will find D'en. With or without you."