Danat shifted, rose, and walked across the wide, wooden back of the
steamcart. The shed's door was shut fast. As Otah pulled himself up,
grunting, Danat worked a thick iron latch. The armsmen's singing
faltered. Otah was aware of eyes fixed upon them, though he couldn't see
the men as more than silhouettes.
Otah made his way to the shed's open door. Inside was pure darkness.
Danat stood, latch in his hand, silent. Otah was about to speak when
another voice came from the black.
"Danat?" Ana Dasin asked. "Is it you?"
"It is," Danat said. "And my father."
Gray-eyed, the Galtic girl emerged from the darkness. She wore a blouse
of simple cotton, a skirt like a peasant worker's. Her hands moved
before her, testing the air until they found the wood frame of the
shed's door. Otah must have made a sound, because she turned as if to
look at him, her gaze going past him and into nothing. He almost took a
pose of formal greeting but stopped himself.
"Ana-cha," he said.
"Most High," she replied, her chin high, her brows raised.
"I didn't expect to see you here," he said.
"I went to her as soon as I heard what had happened," Danat said. "I
swore it was nothing that we'd done. We hadn't been trying to recapture
the andat. She didn't believe me. When I decided to go, I asked her to
come. As a witness. We've left word for Farrer-cha. Even if he
disapproves, it doesn't seem he'd be able to do much about it before we
returned."
"You know this is madness," Otah said softly.
Ana Dasin frowned, hard lines marking her face. But then she nodded.
"It makes very little difference whether I die in the city or on the
road," she said. "If this isn't treachery on the part of the Khaiem,
then I don't see that I have anything to fear."
"We are on an improvised campaign against powers we cannot match. I can
name half-a-dozen things to fear without stopping to think," Otah said.
He sighed, and the Galtic girl's expression hardened. Otah went on,
letting a hint of bleak amusement into his voice. "But I suppose if
you've come, you've come. Welcome to our hunt, Ana-cha."
He nodded to his son and stepped back. Her voice recalled him.
"Most High," she said. "I want to believe Danat. I want to think that he
had nothing to do with this."
"He didn't," Otah said. The girl weighed his words, and then seemed to
accept them.
"And you?" she said. "Was any of this yours?"
Otah smiled. The girl couldn't see him, but Danat did.
"Only my inattention," Otah said. "It's a failure I've come to correct."
"So the andat can blind you as easily as he has us," Ana said, stepping
out of the shed and onto the steamcart. "You aren't protected any more
than I am."
"That's true," Otah said.
Ana went silent, then smiled. In the dim light of the fire, he could see
her mother in the shape of her cheek.