and Liat wasn't sure whether she was pleased or dismayed.
She sat on one of the beds and let her eyes close. She had not slept all
the long night. She wouldn't sleep until the battle was ended. Which
meant, of course, that she might never sleep again. The thought carried
a sense of unreality that was, she thought, the essential mood of the
city. This couldn't be happening. People went about the things that
needed doing with a numb surprise that hell had bloomed up in the world.
The men in their improvised leather armor and sharpened fire irons could
no more fathom that there would be no tomorrow for them than Liat could.
And so they were capable of walking, of speaking, of eating food. If
they had been given time to understand, the Galts wouldn't have faced
half the fight that was hefore them now.
"Mama-kya!" a man's voice said close at hand. Nayiit's. Liat's eyes flew
open.
lie stood in the aisle between beds, his eyes wide. I)anat, paleskinned
and frightened, clung to her boy's robes.
"What are you doing still here?" Liat said.
"Eiah," Nayiit said. "I can't find Eiah. She was in her rooms, getting
dressed, but when I came back with Danat-cha, she was gone. She isn't at
the cart. I thought she might he here. I can't leave without her."
"You should have left before the sun rose," Liat said, standing up. "You
have to leave now."
"But Eiah-"
"You can't wait for her," Liat said. "You can't stay here."
I)anat began to cry, a high wailing that echoed against the high tiled
ceiling and seemed to fill the world. Nayiit crouched and tried to calm
the boy. Liat felt something warm and powerful unwind in her breast.
Rage, perhaps. She hauled her son up by his shoulder and leaned in close.
"Leave her," she said. "Leave the girl and get out of this city now. I)o
you understand me?"
"I promised Kiyan-cha that I'd-"
"You can't keep it girl fourteen summers old from being stupid. No one
can. She made her decision when she left you."
"I promised that I'd look after them," Naviit said.
"'Then save the one you can," Liat said. "And do it now, before you lose
that chance too."
Nayiit blinked in something like surprise and glanced down at the
still-wailing boy. I Its expression hardened and he took it pose of apology.
"You're right, \lother. I wasn't thinking."
"Go. Now," Ifiat said. "loo don't have much time."
"I want nay sister!" I)anat howled.
"She's going to meet its there," Nayiit said, and then swept the boy up
in his arms with it grunt. I)anat-eyes puffy and red, snot streaming
from his nose-pulled back to stare at Nayiit with naked mistrust. Nayiit
smiled his charming smile. His father's smile. Otah's. "It's going to he
fine, I)anat-kya. Your mama and papa and your sister. They'll meet its
at the cave. But we have to leave now."
"No they won't," the boy said.
"You watch," Nayiit said, lying cheerfully. "You'll sec. F,iah's
probably there already."
"But we have the cart."
"Yes, good thought," Nayiit said. "Let's go see the cart."
lie leaned over, awkward with his burden of boy, and kissed Hat.
"I'll do better," he murmured.
You're perfect, Hat wanted to say. You've always been the perfect boy.
But Nayiit was rushing away now, his robes billowing behind him as he
sped to the end of the gallery, I)anat still on his hip, and turned to
the North and vanished toward the back halls and the cart and the North
where if the gods could hear Liat's prayers, they would be safe.
I lot si: SnY:AN l HAD OFFERED VP IFS wAREnot SES FOR ILP. kttnuiM-
Machi and Cetani together-to use as their commandery. Five stories high
and well back from the edge of the city, the wide, gently sloped roof
had as clear a view of the streets as anything besides the great towers
themselves. A passage led from the lower warehouse on the street level
into the underground should there he a need to retreat into that
shelter. In the great empty space-the warehouse emptied of its
wares-Nlaati wrote the text of his binding on the smooth stone wall,
pausing occasionally to rub his hands together and try to calm his
unquiet mind. A stone stair led tip to the second-floor snow doors,
which stood open to let the sun in until they were ready to light the
dozen glass lanterns that lined the walls. The air blew in bitterly cold
and carried a few stray flakes of hard snow that had found their way
down from the sky.
Ideally, Alaati would have spent the last day meditating on the
binding-holding the nuances of each passage clear in his mind, creating
step-by-step the mental structure that would become the andat. Ile had
done his best, drinking black tea and reading through his outline for
Corrupting-the-Generative. The binding looked solid. I Ic thought he
could hold it in his mind. With months or weeks-perhaps even days-he
could have been sure. But this morning he felt scattered. The hot metal
scent of the brazier, the wet smell of the snow, the falling gray
snowflakes against a sky of white, the scuffing of Cehmai's feet against
the stone floor, and the occasional distant call of trumpet and drum as
the armsmen and defenders of Nlachi took their places-everything seemed
to catch his attention. And he could not afford distraction.
"I don't know if I can do this," he said. His voice echoed against the
stone walls, sounding hollow. He turned to meet Cehmai's gaze. "I don't
know if I can go through with this, Cchmai-kya."
"I know," the other poet said, but did not pause in his work of chalking
symbols into the spare walls. "I felt the same before I took
StoneMade-Soft from my master. I don't think any poet has ever gone to
the binding without some sense he was jumping out of a tower in hopes of
learning to fly on the way down."
"But the binding," Nlaati said. "We haven't had time."
"I don't know," Cehmai said, turning to look at Maati. "I've been
thinking about it. The draft you made. It's as complex as some bindings
I saw when I was training. The nuances support each other. The symbols
seem to hang together. And the structure that deflects the price fits
it. I think you've been working on this for longer than you think. Maybe
since Saraykeht fell."
Nlaati looked out the snow door at their bright square of sky. Ills