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invoke that strength to protect themselves. So it was this, among other things, I came to tell you: even if you had truly been raped, you still had a choice, my child. It is not the physical act which makes the difference, you know.” Callista had not   known, and was vaguely surprised.
    Leonie went on, dispassionately: “If you had been taken unwillingly, wholly without consent, it wouldmake no difference that could not be quickly overcome by a little time in seclusion, for the healing of yourfears and hurts. But even if it was not a question of rape, if you had lain with your rescuer afterward, ingratitude or kindness, without any genuine involvement—as you might well have done—even that neednot be irrevocable. A time of seclusion, of retraining, and you could be as before, unchanged, unharmed,still free to be Keeper. This is not widely known; we keep it secret, for obvious reasons. But you stillhave a choice, child. I do not want you to think that you are cast out from the Tower for all time becauseof something which happened without your will.”
    Leonie still spoke quietly, almost impassively, but Callista knew she was pleading. Callista said, wrungwith pity and pain, “No, it is not like that, Leonie. What has happened between us… It is quite different. I came to know him, and love him, before I ever saw his face in this world. But he is too honorable toask that I break an oath given, without leave.”
    Leonie raised her eyes, and the steel-blue gaze was suddenly like a glare of lightning.
    “Is it that he is too honorable,” she said harshly, “or is it that you are afraid?”
    Callista felt a stab of inward pain, but she kept her voice steady. “I am not afraid.”
    “Not for yourself perhaps—I acknowledge it! But for him, Callista? You can still return to Arilinn, without penalty, without harm. But if you do not return—do you want your lover’s blood on your head? You would not be the first Keeper to bring a man to death!”
    Callista raised her head, opened her lips to protest, but Leonie gestured her to silence and went onmercilessly, “Have you been able even to touch his hand, even so much as that?”
    Callista felt relief wash through her, a relief so great that it was like physical pain, draining her of strength. With a telepath’s whole total recall, the image in her memory returned, annihilating everything else that laybetween…
    Andrew had carried her from the cave where the Great Cat lay dead, a blackened corpse beside theshattered matrix he had profaned. Andrew had wrapped her in his cloak and set her before him on hishorse. She felt it again, in complete recall, bow she had rested against him, her head on his breast, foldedclose into the curve of his arms, his heart beating beneath her cheek. Safe, warm, happy, wholly atpeace. For the first time since she had been made Keeper, she felt free, touching and being touched, lyingin his arms, content to be there. And all during that long ride to Armida she had lain there, folded insidehis cloak, happy with such a happiness as she had never guessed.

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As the image in her mind communicated itself to Leonie, the older woman’s face changed. At last shesaid, in a gentler voice than Callista had ever heard, “Is it so,   chiya   ? Why, then, if Avarra is merciful toyou, it may be as you desire. I had not believed it possible.”
    And Callista felt a strange disquiet. She had not, after all, been wholly truthful with Leonie. Yes, for thatlittle while she had been all afire with love, warm, unafraid, content— but then the old nervous constrainthad come back little by little, until now she found it difficult even to touch his fingertips. But surely thatwas only habit, the habit of years, she told herself. It would certainly be all right…
    Leonie said gently, “Then, child, would it indeed make you so unhappy, to part from your lover?”
    Callista found that her calm had deserted her. She said, and knew that her voice was