THE (tlpq-4) by Daniel Abraham Read Free Book Online

categories of being and their relationships. It was a subtle point,
    but without it, the girls would never build a decent binding.
     
    There were five of them now: Irit, Ashti Beg, Vanjit, Small Kae, and
    Large Kae. Half a year ago, there had been seven, but Umnit had tried
    her binding, failed, and perished. Lisat had given up and left him. Just
    as well, really. Lisat had been a good-hearted girl, but slow-witted as
    a cow. And so, five. Or six, if he counted Eiah.
     
    Eiah had been a gift from the gods. She spent her days in the palaces of
    Utani, playing the daughter of Empire. He knew it was a life she
    disliked, but she saw to it that food and money found their way to
    Maati. And being part of the court let her keep an ear out for gossip
    that would serve them, like a dispute over the ownership of a low-town
    warehouse that left both claimants barred from visiting the building
    until judgment was passed. The warehouse had been Maati's for two months
    now. It was beginning to feel like his own. He dropped the rag back into
    its pail, found the thick cube of chalk, and started drawing the charts
    for the evening's lecture. He wondered whether Eiah would be able to
    join them. She was a good student, when she could slip away from her
    life at the palace. She asked good questions.
     
    The crude iron bolt turned with a sound like a dropped hammer, and the
    small, human-size door beside the great sliding walls intended for carts
    and wagons opened. A woman's figure was silhouetted against the soft
    gray light. It was neither of the Kaes, but his eyes weren't strong
    enough to make out features. When she came in, closing the door behind
    her, he recognized Vanjit by her gait.
     
    "You're early, Vanjit-cha," Maati said, turning back to the wall and chalk.
     
    "I thought I might be able to help," she said. "Are you well, Maaticha?"
     
    Vanjit had been with him for almost a year now. She had come to his
    covert school, as all the others had, through a series of happy
    accidents. Another of his students-Umnit-had fallen into conversation
    with her, and something had sparked between them. Umnit had presented
    Vanjit as a candidate to join in their work. Reluctantly, Maati had
    accepted her.
     
    The girl had a brilliant mind, no question. But she had been a child in
    Udun, the only one of her family to survive when the Galts had come, and
    the memory of that slaughter still touched her eyes from time to time.
    She might laugh and talk and make music, but she bore scars on her body
    and in her mind. In the months he had spent working with her, Maati had
    come to realize what had first unnerved him about the girl: of all the
    students he had taught, she was most like him.
     
    He had lost his family in the war as well-his almost-son Nayiit, his
    lover Liat, and the man he had once thought his dearest friend. Otah,
    Emperor of the Khaiem. Otah, favored of the gods, who couldn't fall down
    without landing on rose petals. They had not all died, but they were all
    lost to him.
     
    "Maati-cha?" Vanjit said. "Did I say something wrong?"
     
    Maati blinked and took a pose of query.
     
    "You looked angry," she said.
     
    "Nothing," Maati said, shifting the chalk to his other hand and shaking
    the ache from his fingers. "Nothing, Vanjit-kya, my mind was just
    wandering. Come, sit. There's nothing that you need to do, but you can
    keep me company while I get ready."
     
    She sat on the bench, one leg tucked under her. He noticed that her hair
    and robe were wet from the rain. There was mud on her boots. She'd been
    walking out in the weather. Maati hesitated, chalk halfway back to the
    stone.
     
    "Or," he said slowly, "perhaps I should ask if you've been well?"
     
    She smiled and took a pose that dismissed his concerns.
     
    "Bad dream again," she said. "That's all."
     
    "About the baby," Maati said.
     
    "I could feel him inside of me," she said. "I could feel his heartbeat.
    It's strange. I hate dreaming about him. The nightmares