as well connected in court. Maati sipped his tea and considered whether
to leave them on his list. One of these housesmost likely one of these,
though there were certainly other possibilities-had engineered the
murder of the Khai Machi. They had placed the blame on Otah. They had
spirited him away, and once the mourning was finished with ...
Once the mourning was finished, the city would attend the wedding of
Adrah Vaunyogi to Idaan. No, no, lie would keep the Vaunyogi on his
list. It was such a convenient match, and the timing so apt.
Others, of course, put the crimes down to Otah-kvo. A dozen hunting
packs had gone out in the four days since the bloody morning that killed
the Khai and Danat both. The utkhaiem were searching the low towns for
Otah and those who had aided his escape, but so far no one had
succeeded. It was Maati's task now to solve the puzzle before they found
him. He wondered how many of them had guessed that he alone in the city
was working to destroy all their chances. If someone else had done these
things ... if he could show it ... Otah would still be able to take his
father's place. He would become Khai Machi.
And what, Maati wondered, would Liat think of that, once she heard of
it? He imagined her cursing her ill judgment in losing the ruler of a
city and gaining half a poet who hadn't proved worth keeping.
"Maati," Baarath said.
Maati jumped, startled, and spilled a few drops of tea over his papers.
Ink swirled into the pale green as he blotted them with a cloth. Baarath
clicked his teeth and hurried over to help.
"My fault," the librarian said. "I thought you had noticed me. You were
scowling, after all."
Maati didn't know whether to laugh at that, so he only took a pose of
gratitude as Baarath blew across the still damp pages. The damage was
minor. Even where the ink had smudged, he knew what he had meant.
Baarath fumbled in his sleeve and drew out a letter, its edges sewn in
green silk.
"It's just come for you," he said. "The I)ai-kvo, I think?"
Maati took it. The last he had reported, Otah had been found and turned
over to the Khai Machi. It was a faster response than he had ex peered.
He turned the letter over, looking at the familiar handwriting that
formed his name. Baarath sat across the table from him, smiling as if he
were, of course, welcome, and waiting to see what the message said. It
was one of the little rudenesses to which the librarian seemed to feel
himself entitled since Nlaati's apology. Maati had the uncomfortable
feeling Baarath thought they were becoming friends.
He tore the paper at the sewn scams, pulled the thread free, and
unfolded it. The chop was clearly the Dai-kvo's own. It began with the
traditional forms and etiquette. Only at the end of the first page did
the matter become specific to the situation at hand.
ihith Otah discovered and given over to the Khai, your work in Machi is
completed. Your suggestion that he be accepted again as a poet is, of
course, impossible but the sentiment is commendable. I am quite pleased
with you, and trust that this will mark a change in your work. %here are
many tasks that a man in your position might take on to the benefit of