"Gods," she said. "Is this really what we've been doing? Someone please
tell me that the world is on its knees over something more than two old
men chewing over quarrels from their boyhood."
"This is much, much more than that," Otah said. His voice, though
severe, had lost some of its certainty.
"I wouldn't know from listening to that display," Idaan said. "Ana-cha
has more sense than you on this, brother. Listen to her."
Otah had calmed down enough to look merely peeved. Maati held his fist
to his chest, but his heart was slowing to its usual pace. Nothing had
happened. He was fine. Otah, across from him, took a pose appropriate to
the beginning of a short break in a negotiation. His jaw was tight and
his stance only civil. Maati replied with one that accepted the
proposal. He wanted to sit at Eiah's side, to talk with her about what
to do next and how to go about it. It would have been a provocation,
though, so instead, Maati retreated to the door leading out into the
cold, black courtyard and the clean night air.
It had been a mistake. Otah was too proud and self-centered to help
them. He was too wrapped up in anger that the world hadn't followed his
one and only holy and anointed plan. They should have gone on to Utani,
found someone in the utkhaiem who would support them. Or they should
have gone after Vanjit themselves.
They should have done anything but this.
Voices came from behind him. Danat's, Otah's, Eiah's. They sounded
tense, but they weren't shouting. Maati pressed his hands into their
opposite sleeves and watched his breath steam like a soup kettle. He
wondered where Vanjit was and how she was keeping warm. It seemed the
woman had become two different people in his mind-one, the girl who had
come to him in despair and been given hope again, the other a halfmad
poet he'd loosed on the world. The impulses to kill her and to see to
her care shouldn't have been able to exist in him at the same time, and
yet there they were. He prayed she was dead, and he hoped she was well.
Between that and seeing Otah again, his head was buzzing like a hive.
"We've reached a conclusion," Idaan said from behind him. He turned. She
was standing in the doorway, blocking the light. His belly itched where
her assassin had stabbed him all those years before.
"Should I be grateful?" Maati asked. Idaan ignored the jab.
"If you and Otah can't play gently, and it's clear as the moon that you
can't, we're going to go through channels. Eiah's talking with Danat.
They sent me to speak with you."
"Ah, because we're such excellent friends?"
"Say it's because our relationship is simpler," Idaan said. Her voice
took on the texture of cast iron. "Tell me what happened."
Maati leaned against the rough wall and shook his head. He'd become too
excited, and now that he was calming, it was coming out in an urge to
weep. He would not under any circumstances allow that in front of Idaan.
Idaan, who'd tried to have Otah killed and had now become his traveling
companion. What more did anyone need to know to understand how far Otah
had fallen?
"Maati," Idaan said, her voice still hard. "Now."