arms up to Eiah as if it was asking to be held.
"You know, then," Vanjit said. "It was inevitable."
"You should have told me what you intended," Maati said. "It was a
dangerous, rash thing to do. And it's going to have consequences."
Vanjit put Clarity-of-Sight on the floor at her feet. The thing shrieked
complaint, and she bent toward it, her jaw clenched. Maati recognized
the push and pull of wills between andat and poet. Even before the andat
whimpered and went silent, he had no doubt of the outcome.
"You were going to tell the world of what we'd done anyway," Vanjit
said. "But you couldn't be sure they would have stopped the Emperor,
could you? This way they can't go forward."
"Why didn't you tell Maati-kvo what you were doing?" Eiah asked.
"Because he would have told me not to," Vanjit said, anger in her voice.
"I would have," Maati said. "Yes."
"It isn't fair, Maati-kya," Vanjit said. "It isn't right that they
should come here, take our places. They were the killers, not us. They
were the ones who brought blades to our cities. Any of the poets could
have destroyed Galt at any time, and we never, ever did."
"And that makes it right to crush them now?" Eiah demanded.
"Yes," Vanjit said. There were tears in her eyes.
Eiah tilted her head. Long familiarity told Maati the thoughts that
occupied Eiah's mind. This girl, sitting before them both, had been
granted the power of a small god by their work. Maati's and Eiah's. The
others had helped, but the three of them together in that room carried
the decision. And so the weight of its consequences.
"It was ill advised," Maati said. "The low towns should have been our
allies and support. Now they've been angered."
"Why?" Vanjit asked.
"They don't know what our plan is," Maati said. "They don't know about
Eiah and Wounded. All they see is that there was a glimmer of hope. Yes,
I know it was a thin, false hope, but it was all that they had."
"That's stupid," Vanjit said.
"It only seems that way because we know more than they," Eiah said.
"We can tell them," Vanjit said.
"If we can calm them long enough to listen," Maati said. "But that isn't
what I've come here for. I am your teacher, Vanjit-cha. I need two
things of you. Do you understand?"
The girl looked at the ground, her hands rising in a pose of acceptance
appropriate for a student to her master.
"First, you must never take this kind of action with the andat without
telling me. We have too many plans and they are too delicate for any of
us to act without the others knowing it."
"Eiah sent Ashti Beg away," Vanjit said.
"And we discussed that possibility before they left," Maati said. "The
second thing ... What you've done to the Galts, only you can undo."
The girl looked up now. Anger flashed in her eyes. The andat gurgled and
clapped its tiny hands. Maati held up a finger, insisting that she wait
until he had finished.
"If you hold to this," he said, "thousands of people will die. Women and