that. But what makes him him comes from me, doesn't it? All the things
that aren't innate to the idea of sight made clear. So when I bind
Wounded, it would be almost like having him back. It would be, because
it would come from me, just as he does."
"It ... it might," Maati said. His head still felt light. A chill sweat
touched his back. "I suppose it might. But the risk of it would also be
huge. Once the andat was let go, you wouldn't be able to recall it. Even
if you were to bind another, Clarity-of-Sight would be gone. We have the
power now ..."
"But my power doesn't mean anything," Vanjit said. Her voice was taking
on a strained tone, as if some banked anger was rising in her. "Eiah
matters. Wounded matters."
He thought of the Galts, blinded. Had Vanjit held Wounded, they would
doubtless all have died. A nation felled-every woman, every man-by
invisible swords, axes, stones. It was a terrible power, but they
weren't here for the benefit of the Galts. He put his hand over Vanjit's.
"Let us hope it never comes to that," he said. "It would be far, far
better to have two poets. But if it does, I'm glad you'll be here."
The girl's face brightened and she darted forward, kissing Maati's lips
as brief and light as a butterfly. The andat on her hip gurgled and
flailed. Vanjit nodded as if it had spoken.
"We should go," Vanjit said. "We've spent so much time talking about how
to approach you, I've neglected the classes. Thank you, Maati-kvo. I
can't tell you how much it means to know that I can still help."
Maati nodded, waited until girl and andat had vanished, then lowered
himself to the floor. Slowly, the knot in his chest relaxed, and his
breath returned to its normal depth and rhythm. In the snow-gray
sunlight, he considered the backs of his hands, the nature of the andat,
and what he had just agreed to. The cold of the stone and the sky seemed
to take his energy. By the time he rose, his fingers had gone white and
his feet were numb.
He found the others in the kitchen. Chalk marks on the walls sketched
out three or four grammatical scenarios, each using different vocabulary
and structures. Eiah, considering the notes, took a brief pose of
welcome when he appeared, then turned to stare at him. Irit fluttered
about, chattering merrily until he was seated by the fire with a bowl of
warm tea in his hand. Large Kae and Small Kae were in the middle of a
conversation about the difference between cutting and crushing, which in
other circumstances would have been disturbing to hear. Vanjit sat with
a beatific smile, Clarity-of-Sight perched on her lap. Maati motioned at
Eiah that she should carry on, and with a reluctance he didn't
understand, she did.
The tea was warm and smelled like spring. Coals glowed in the brazier.
The voices around him seemed hopeful and bright. But then he saw the
andat's black eyes and was reminded of his unease.
The session came to its end and the women scattered, each to her own
task, leaving only Vanjit sitting by the fire, nursing the andat from a
breast swollen with milk. Maati made his way back to his rooms. He was
tired past all reason and unsteady on his feet. As he had hoped, Eiah