habit now. Routine. Eiah dug the fire pit, Small Kae gathered wood.

Large Kae put the sleeping tents in place. Irit would have started

cooking, but Maati knew well enough how to take her part. A few bowlfuls

of river water, crushed lentils that had been soaking since morning,

slivers of salted pork, an onion they'd hauled almost from the school.

It made for a better soup than Maati had first expected, though the gods

all knew he was tired of it now. It would keep them alive until morning.

Vanjit stepped out of the shadows just as Maati filled a bowl for the

boatman, the andat on one hip, a satchel on the other. Everyone was

aware that she hadn't helped to make camp. No one complained. In the

firelight, she looked younger even than she was. Her eyes flashed, and

she smiled.

Vanjit sat at Maati's side, accepting the next full bowl. The andat

rested at her feet, shifting its weight as if to crawl away but then

shifting back. The boatman and his second went back to their boat, bowls

steaming in their hands. It was, Maati supposed, all well for passengers

to sleep on the shore, but someone needed to stay with the boat. Better

for them as well. It would have been awkward, explaining why the baby's

breath didn't fog.

When they had gone, Eiah rose to her feet. The darkness under her eyes

was dispelled by her smile. The others looked up at her.

"I would like to announce a small celebration," she said. "I've been

reworking the binding for Wounded, and as of today, the latest version

is complete."

Small Kae smiled and applauded. Large Kae grinned. Eiah made a show of

pulling a wineskin from her bags. They all applauded now. Even Vanjit.

But Eiah's gaze faltered when her eyes met Maati's, and his belly soured.

Something in her wine to deepen her sleep. She mustn't see the blow coming.

"Yes," Maati said, trying to hide his fear. "Yes, I think celebration is

in order."

"You've seen the new draft?" Vanjit asked as Eiah poured the wine into

bowls. "Is it ready?"

"I haven't been through it all as yet," he said. "There are some changes

that make me optimistic. By Udun, I'll have a better-informed opinion."

The two Kaes were toasting each other, the fire. Eiah came to Maati and

Vanjit. She pressed bowls into their hands, and went back to pour one

for herself. Maati drank quickly, grateful for something to do that

would occupy his hands and his mind. If only for a moment.

Vanjit swirled her wine bowl, looking down at it with what might have

been serenity.

"Maati-kvo," Vanjit said. "Do you remember when I first came to you?

Gods, it seems like it was a different life, doesn't it? You were

outside Shosheyn-Tan."

"Lachi," Eiah said from across the fire.

"Of course," Vanjit said. "I remember now. I met Umnit at a bathhouse,

and we'd started talking. She brought me to Eiah-cha, and Eiah brought

me to you. It was that abandoned house, the one with all the mice.

"I remember," Maati said. The two Kaes exchanged a glance that Maati

didn't understand. Vanjit laughed, throwing back her head.

"I can't think what you saw in me back then," she said. "I must have

looked like something the dogs wouldn't eat."

"They were lean times for all of us," Maati said, forcing a jovial tone.

"Not for you," she said. "Not with Eiah to look after you. No, don't you

pretend that she hasn't supported us all from the start. Without her, we

would never have come this far."

Eiah took a pose that accepted the compliment and raised her wine bowl,

but Vanjit still didn't drink from her own. Maati willed her to drink

the poison, to end this.

"I think of who I was then," Vanjit said, her voice soft and

contemplative. She sounded like a child. Or worse, like a grown woman

trying to sound childish. "Lost. Empty. And then the gods touched my

shoulder and turned me toward you. All of you, really. You've been the

only family I've ever had. I mean, since the Galts came."

At her feet, Clarity-of-Sight wailed as if heartbroken. Vanjit turned to

it, her brow furrowed in concentration. The andat squirmed, shuddered,

and became still. The tension in Maati's shoulders was spreading to his

throat. He could see Eiah's hands clutching her bowl.

"The only family I've had," Vanjit said, as if finding her place in a

practiced speech. And then softly, "Did you think I wouldn't know?"

Large Kae put down her bowl, her gaze shifting from Eiah to Vanjit and

back. Maati shifted to the side, his throat almost too tight for words.

"Know what?" he asked. The words came out stilted and rough. Even he

wasn't convinced by them. Vanjit stared at him, disappointment in her

expression. No one moved, but Maati felt something shifting in his eyes.

The andat's attention was on him, the tiny face growing more and more

detailed with each heartbeat.

Vanjit held out the poisoned wine bowl. The color was wrong. No human

would ever have seen the difference, but with the andat driving his

vision and hers, there was no mistaking it. The deep red had a greenish

taint that no other bowl suffered.

"What ... what's that?" Maati squeaked.

"I don't know," Vanjit said in a voice that meant she did. "Perhaps you

should drink it for me, and we could see. But no. You're too valuable.

Eiah, perhaps?"

"I'm sorry. Did I not clean the bowl well enough?" Eiah asked.

Vanjit threw her bowl into the fire, flames hissing and smoke rushing up

in a cloud. There was rage in her expression.

"Vanjit," Eiah said. "I don't think ..."

Vanjit ignored them, untying her satchel with a fast scrabbling motion.

When she lifted it, blocks of wax spilled out, gray and white, like

rotten ice. Maati saw bits of Eiah's writing cut into them.

"You were going to kill me," Vanjit said.

Eiah took a pose that denied the charge. The firelight flickered over

Vanjit's face, and for a moment, Maati thought the poet might believe

the lie. He cleared his throat.

"We wouldn't do that," he said.

Vanjit turned to him, her expression empty and mad. At his feet, the

andat made a sound that might have been a warning or a laugh.

"Do you think he only speaks to you?" Vanjit spat.

Maati sputtered, falling back a step when Vanjit lunged forward. She

only scooped up the andat, turned, and ran into the darkness.