quay as if it were a stage and he was declaiming a part. He told them of
the encounter, of Vanjit's appearance, of the andat at her side. He took
the poses he'd adopted and mimicked Vanjit's. In the end, he explained
that Vanjit would see him-would see only him-and that it was to happen
that evening.
"She doesn't know you," Maati continued, "and what little she does know,
she doesn't have a use for. To her, you're the man who turned against
his own people. And I am the teacher who gave her the power of a small god."
"And then plotted to kill her," Otah said, but he knew this battle was
lost. Maati was right: neither of them had the power here. The poet and
her andat were their masters whether he liked it or not. She could
dictate any terms she wished, and Maati was important to her in a way
that Otah himself was not.
It was a meeting with the potential to end the world or save it. He
would have given it to a stranger before he trusted it to Maati.
"What are you going to tell her?" Ana asked. Her voice sounded hungry.
Weeks-months now-Ana had been living in shadows, and here was the chance
to make herself whole.
"I'll apologize," Maati said. "I'll explain that the andat manipulated
us, playing on our fears. Then, if Vanjit will allow it, I'll have Eiah
brought so that she can offer her apologies as well."
Eiah, standing where Otah could see her face, lifted her chin as if
something had caught her attention. Something ghosted across her
facealarm or incredulity-and then was gone. She became a statue of
herself, a mask. She had no more faith in Maati than he did. And, to
judge from her silence, no better idea of what to do either.
"She has killed thousands of innocent people," Otah said. "She's
crippled women she had numbered among her friends. Are you sure that
apologizing is entirely appropriate?"
"What would you have me do?" Maati asked, his hands taking a pose that
was both query and challenge. "Should I go to her swinging accusations?
Should I tell her she's not safe and never will be?"
The voice that answered was Idaan's.
"There's nothing you can say to her. She's gone mad, and you talk about
her as if she weren't. Whatever words you use, she's going to hear what
she wants. You might just as well send her a puppet and let her speak
both parts."
"You don't know her," Maati said, his face flushing. "You've never met her."
"I've been her," Idaan said dismissively as she walked down the steps to
the now-crowded quay. "Give her what she wants if you'd like. It's never
made her well before, and it won't make her well now."
"What would you advise?" Otah asked.
"She'll be distracted," Idaan said. "Go in with a bowman. Put an arrow
in the back of her head just where the spine touches it."
"No," Maati shouted.
"No," Eiah said. "Even if killing her is the right thing, think of the
risk. If she suspects, she can always lash out, and we haven't got any
protection against her."
"There doesn't need to be anyone there for her to be suspicious," Idaan