"And what would that do?"

"I don't know," Maati said. "Nobody does. I can say that what was once a

land of palm trees and rivers and palaces of sapphire is a killing

desert. I can say that people who travel in the ruins of the Old Empire

tend to die there. It might be from physical expressions of that old

struggle. It might be from some interaction of bindings. There is no way

to be sure."

Eiah was silent. She turned the pages of her medical books until she

reached diagrams Maati recognized. Eyes cut through the center, eyes

sliced through the back. He had seen them all thousands of times when

Vanjit was preparing herself, and they had seemed like the keepers of

great secrets. He hadn't considered at the time that each image was the

result of some actual, physical orb meeting with an investigative blade,

or that all the eyes pictured there were sightless.

He felt Eiah's sigh as much as heard it.

"What happened out there?" he asked. "The truth, not what you said in

front of the others."

Eiah leaned forward. For a moment, Maati thought she was weeping, but

she straightened again. Her eyes were dry, her jaw set. She had pulled a

small box of carved oak from under the cot, and she handed it to him

now. He opened it, the leather hinge loose and soft. Six folded pages

lay inside, sewn at the edges and sealed with Eiah's personal sigil.

"You didn't send them?"

"It was true about the trade fair. We did find one. It wasn't very good,

but it was there, so we stopped. There are Galts everywhere now. They

came to Saraykeht at the start, and apparently the councillors and the

court are all still there. There are others who have fanned out. The

ones who believe that my father's plan is going to work."

"The ones who see a profit in it. Slavers?"

"Marriage brokers," Eiah said as if the terms were the same. "They've

been traveling the low towns making lists of men in want of Galtic

peasant girls to act as brood mares for their farms. Apparently eight

lengths of copper will put a man's name on the list to travel to Galt.

Two of silver for the list to haul a girl here."

Maati felt his belly twist. It had gone further than he had dared think.

"Most of them are lying, of course," Eiah said. "Taking money from the

desperate and moving on. I don't know how many of them there are out

there. Hundreds, I would guess. But, Maati-cha, the night I left? All of

the Galts lost their sight. All of them, and at once. No one cares any

longer what's happened with my brother and the girl he was supposed to

marry. No one talks about the Emperor. All anyone cares about is the

andat. They know that some poet somewhere has bound Blindness or

something like it and loosed it against the Galts."

It was as if the air had gone from the room, as if Maati were suddenly

on a mountaintop. His breath was fast, his heart pounding. It might have

been joy or fear or something of each.

"I see," Maati said.

"Uncle, they hate us. All those farmers and traders and shepherds? All

those men who thought that they would have wives and children? All those

women who thought that even if it hadn't come from their body, at least

there would be a baby nearby to care for? They think we've taken it from

them. And I have never seen so much rage."

Maati felt as if he'd been struck, caught in the moment between the blow

and the bloom of pain. He said something, words stringing together

without sense and trailing to silence. He put his face in his hands.

"You didn't know," Eiah said. "She didn't tell you."

"Vanjit's done this," Maati said. "She can undo it. I can . . ." He

stopped, catching his breath. He felt as if he'd been running. His hands

trembled. When Eiah spoke, her voice was as level and calm as a

physician's announcing a death.

"Twice."

Maati turned to her, his hands taking a pose of query. Eiah put her hand

on the table, papers shifting under her fingers with a sound like sand

against glass.

"This is twice, Maati-cha. First with Ashti Beg, and now ... Gods. Now

with all of Galt."

"Is this why Ashti Beg left?" Maati asked. "The true reason?"

"The true reason is that she was afraid of Vanjit," Eiah said. "And I

couldn't reassure her."

"Children," Maati said. The pain in his chest was easing, the shock of

the news fading away. "I'll speak with Vanjit. She did this all. She can

undo it as well. And ... and it does speak to the purpose. We wanted to

announce that the andat had returned to the world. She's done that in no

small voice."

"Maati-cha," Eiah began, but he kept talking, fast and loud.

"This is why they did it, you know All those tests and lies and

opportunities to prove ourselves. Or fail to prove ourselves. They broke

us to the lead first, and gave us power when they knew we could be

controlled."

"It looked like a wiser strategy, if this is the alternative," Eiah

said. "Do you think she'll listen to you?"

"Listen, yes. Do as I command? I don't know. And I don't know that I'd

want her to. She's learning responsibility. She's learning her own

limits. Even if I could tell her what they are, she couldn't learn by

having it said. She's ... exploring."

"She's killed thousands of people, at the least."

"Galts," Maati said. "She's killed Galts. We were never here to save

them. Yes, Eiah-kya. Vanjit went too far, and because she's holding an

andat, there are consequences. When you slaughter a city? When you send

your army to kill a little girl's family in front of her? There are

consequences to that too. Or by all the gods there should be."

"You're saying this is justice?" Eiah asked.

"We made peace with Galt," Maati said. "None of Vanjit's family were

avenged. There was no justice for them because it was simpler for Otah

to ignore their deaths. Just as it's simpler for him to ignore all the

women of the cities. Vanjit has an andat, and so her will is now more

important than your father's. I don't see that makes it any more or less

just."

Eiah took a pose that respectfully disagreed, then dropped her hands to

her sides.

"I don't argue that she's gone too far," Maati said. "She's killing a

horsefly with a hammer. Only that it's not as bad as it first seems.

She's still young. She's still new to her powers."

"And that forgives everything?" Eiah said.