House of Illusions (57 page)

Looking into those fiery red eyes, it came to me that it did not matter what I believed. He might be lying, or the truth might be beating at last beneath the agitated rise and fall of his naked white chest. All I knew was that I had no choice. Life without him would be nothing more than a pointless round of little responsibilities, little pleasures, devoid of the rich depths of either passion or pain, and I would glide through the shallows of a meaningless existence until my end. The thought was insupportable. “Then summon Harshira,” I said. “I presume that he is here also. Tell him to bring refreshments, and we will discuss what we are to do. But before that, there is a question you must put to me. Something I have longed to hear, Hui. Words that must come from your mouth if the past with all its dark power is to be rendered impotent and we are to begin again.” His brows drew together and his eyes narrowed. He did not blink. Outwardly calm, I waited while everything in me was tight with the tension of knowing that my whole life, my whole future, now depended on what he would say.

Then the ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “Dear Thu,” he murmured. “Can you forgive me for the grievous wrongs I have inflicted on you? For using you and deserting you? For plotting to destroy you and taking away your youth? Are you able to forgive me? Will you try?”

For a long time neither of us stirred. We stood staring at each other while the day grew drowsy with heat and the birds fell silent in the garden beyond.

THE END