"It's what they did to us," she said. 117hat they did to we. Maati
reached forward and took her hand.
"I understand," he said. "I won't tell you to undo this thing. But for
me, think carefully about how the burden of those deaths will weigh on
you. You're angry now, and anger gives you strength. But when it's
faded, you will still be responsible for what you've done."
"I will, Maati-kvo," Vanjit said.
Eiah made a sound in the back of her throat, its meaning unguessable.
Maati smiled and put a hand on Vanjit's shoulder.
"Well. That's settled. Now, I suppose it's time to get back to work.
Give these people in the low towns something to celebrate."
"You've done it, then, Eiah-kya?" Vanjit asked. "You've found the
insight you needed? You understand Wounded?"
Eiah was quiet for a moment, looking down at Vanjit and Clarity-ofSight.
Her lips twitched into a thin, joyless smile.
"Closer," Eiah said. "I've come closer."
17
Seeing Balasar Gice shook Otah more than he had expected. He had always
known that the general was not a large-framed man, but his presence had
always filled the room. Seeing him seated at a table by the window with
his eyes the gray of old pearls, Otah felt he was watching the man die.
The robes seemed too large on him, or his shoulders suddenly grown small.
Outside the window, the morning sun lit the sea. Gulls called and
complained to one another. A small plate had the remnants of fresh
cheese and cut apple; the cheese flowed in the day's heat, the pale
flesh of the apple had gone brown. Otah cleared his throat. Balasar
smiled, but didn't bother turning his head toward the sound.
"Most High?" Balasar asked.
"Yes," Otah said. "I came ... I came when I heard."
"I am afraid Sinja will have to do without my aid," Balasar said, his
voice ironic and bleak. "It seems I'll be in no condition to sail."
Otah leaned against the window's ledge, his shadow falling over Balasar.
The general turned toward him. His voice was banked rage, his expression
impotence.
"Did you know, Otah? Did you know what they were doing?"
"This wasn't my doing," Otah said. "I swear that."
"My life was taking your god-ghosts out of the world. I thought we'd
done it. Even after what you bastards did to me, to all of us, I was
content trying to make peace. I lost my men to it, and I lived with that
because the loss meant something. However desperate the cost, at least
we'd be rid of the fucking andat. And now. .
Balasar struck the table with an open palm, the report like stone
breaking. Otah lifted his hands toward a pose that offered comfort, and
then stopped and let his arms fall to his sides.
"I'm sorry," Otah said. "I will send my best agents to find the new poet
and resolve this. Until then, all of you will be cared for and-"
Balasar's laughter was a bark.
"Where do I begin, Most High? We will all be cared for? Do you really
think this has only happened to the Galts who came to your filthy city?