chairs. A stand for scrolls. A map of the winter cities nailed to the
wall. Three lanterns. And Otah-kvo rising now from his seat.
He was still thin, but there was an energy about him-in the way he held
his shoulders and his hands. In the way he moved.
"You're looking well for a dead man," Maati said.
"Feeling better than expected, too," Otah said, and a smile spread
across his long, northern face. "Thank you for coming."
"How could I not?" Maati drew one of the chairs close to him and sat,
his fingers laced around one knee. "So you've chosen to take the city
after all?"
Otah hesitated a moment, then sat. He rubbed the desktop with his open
palm-a dry sound-and his brow furrowed.
"I don't see my option," he said at last. "That sounds convenient, I
know. But ... You said before that you'd realized I had nothing to do
with Biitrah's death and your assault. I didn't have a part in Danat's
murder either. Or my father's. Or even my own rescue from the tower,
come to that. It's all simply happened up to now. And I didn't know
whether you still believed me innocent."
Maati smiled ruefully. There was something in Otah's voice that sounded
like hope. Maati didn't know his own heart-the resentment, the anger,
the love of Otah-kvo and of Liat and the child she'd borne. He couldn't
say even what they all had to do with this man sitting across his
appropriated desk.
"I do," Maati said at last. "I've been looking into the matter, but I
suppose you know that if you've had me watched."
"Yes. That's one reason I wanted to speak to you."
"There are others?"
"I have a confession to make. I'd likely be wiser to keep quiet until
this whole round is finished, but ... I've lied to you, Maati. I told
you that I'd been with a woman in the east islands and failed to father
a child on her. She ... she wasn't real. That never happened."
Maati considered this, waiting for his heart to rise in anger or
shrivel, but it only beat in its customary rhythm. He wondered when it
had stopped mattering to him, the father of the boy he'd lost. Since the
last time he had spoken with Utah in the high stone cell, certainly, but
looking back, he couldn't put a moment to it. If the boy was his get or
Utah's, neither would bring him back. Neither would undo the years gone
by. And there were other things that he had that he might still lose, or
else save.
"I thought I was going to die," Otah said. "I thought it wouldn't matter
to me, and if it gave you some comfort, then ..."
"Let it go," Maati said. "If there's anything to be said about it, we
can say it later. There are other matters at hand."
"Have you found something, then?"
"I have a family name, I think. Certainly there's someone putting money
and influence behind the Vaunyogi."
"Likely the Galts," Otah said. "They've been making contracts bad enough
to look like bribes. We didn't know what influence they were buying."
"It could be this," Nlaati said. "Do you know why they'd do it?"