"What option do we have?" Maati asked. "Chain her to a tree? Kill her?
No, Eiah-kya. Ashti Beg won't abandon the work, but if she does, we have
no choice but to let her."
Eiah was silent for five slow breaths together. When she looked up, he
was surprised by her grim expression.
"I still can't quite bring myself to believe Vanjit did that."
"Why not?"
Eiah frowned, her hands clasped together. Some distant shutter's ties
had slipped; wood clapping against stone. A soft wind pushed at the
windows and unsettled the fire in the grate.
"She's a poet," Eiah said. "She's the poet."
"Poets are human," Maati said. "We err. We can be petty on occasion.
Vindictive. Small. Her world has been turned on its head, and she hasn't
come yet to understand all that means. Well, of course she hasn't. I'd
have been more surprised if she'd never made a misstep."
"You don't think we have a problem then?" Eiah said.
"She's a reasonable girl. Given power, she's misbehaved once. Once."
Maati shook his head. "Once is as good as never."
"And if it becomes twice?" Eiah asked. "If it becomes every time?"
"It won't," Maati said. "That isn't who she is."
"But she's changed. You said it just now. The binding gave her power,
and power changes people."
"It changes their situation," Maati said. "It changes the calculations
of what things they choose to do. What they forbear. It doesn't change
their souls."
"I've cut through a hundred bodies, Uncle. I've never weighed out a
soul. I've never judged one. When I picked Vanjit, I hope I did the
right thing."
"Don't kill yourself with worry," Maati said. "Not yet, at any rate."
Eiah nodded slowly. "I've been thinking about who to send letters to.
I've picked half-a-dozen names. I'll hire a courier when we reach
Pathai. I won't be there long enough to bring back replies."
"That's fine," Maati said. "All we need is enough time to perfect Wounded."
Eiah took a pose that agreed and also ended the conversation. She walked
away into the darkened hall, her shoulders bent, her head bowed. Maati
felt a pang of guilt. Eiah was tired and sorrowful and more fearful than
she let on. He was sending her to announce to the world that she had
betrayed her father. He could have been gentler about her concerns over
Vanjit and Clarity-of-Sight. He didn't know why he'd been so harsh.
He made his evening ablutions and prepared himself to write a few pages
in his book, scratching words onto paper by the light of the fluttering
night candle, thanks in no small part to Vanjit. He was less than
surprised when a soft scratching came at his door.
Vanjit looked small and young. The andat held in the crook of her arm
looked around the dim room, gurgling to itself almost like a baby. Maati
gestured for her to sit.
"I heard Eiah-cha speaking to Ashti Beg," Vanjit said. "They're leaving?"
"Eiah is taking the cart to Pathai for supplies and to send off some
letters for me. Ashti Beg is going to help. That's all," he said.