An Autumn War

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

chest felt tight. He thought for a moment how sad it would be to have

come this far and collapse now from a had heart.

"I remember when I was at the village the second time," Nlaati said.

"After Saraykeht. After Liat left me. 't'here was a teahouse at the edge

of the village. Tanam Choyan's place."

"high walls," Cehmai said. "And a red lacquer door to the back room. I

remember the place. They always undercooked the rice."

"I ie did," Nlaati said. "I'd forgotten that. 'T'here was a standing

game of tiles there. I remember once a boy came to play and didn't know

any of the rules. Not even what season led, or when two winds made a

trump. lie bet everything he had at the first tile. He knew he was in

over his head, so he risked it all at once. lie thought if he kept

playing, then the men at the table who knew better than he did would

strip him of every length of copper he had. If he put everything on one

handwell, someone had to win, and it might he him as well as anyone

else. I understand now how he felt."

"l)id he win?"

"No," laati said. "But 1 respected the strategy."

A trumpet blared out above them-Otah sending some signal among his men.

Answering horns came from around the city. MIaati could no more tell

where they originated than guess how many snowflakes were in the wide

air. Cehmai's surprised breath caught his attention like a hook pulling

at a fish. lie turned to the man, and then followed his gaze to the

stairway leading down to the tu

hard, as if she'd run to reach them. Her hair was pulled hack in a messy

knot at the back. I Ier robes were bright green shot with gold.

"1?iah-cha," Cehmai said, stepping toward her. "What are you doing here?"

The girl looked up at Cehmai, stepping away from him as if she might

run. Her gaze darted to Nlaati. lie smiled and took a pose that was

welcome and inquiry both. 1- iah's hands fluttered between half a dozen

poses, settling on none of them.

""They need physicians," she said. "People are going to get hurt. I

don't want to be useless. And ... and I want to he here when you stop

them. I helped with the binding as much as Cehmai did."

't'hat was a gross untruth, but the girl delivered it with such

conviction that Nlaati felt himself half-believing. He smiled.

"You were supposed to go with Nayiit-cha and your brother," Maati said.

I ter mouth went small, her face pale.

"I know," she said. laati waved her closer, and she came to him,

skirting around Cehmai as if she feared he would grab her and haul her

away to where she was supposed to be. Maati sat on the cold stone floor

and she sat with him.

"It isn't safe here," he said.

"It's safe enough that you can be here. And Papa-kya. And you're the two

most important men in the world."

"I don't know that-"

"He's the Emperor. Even the Khai Cetani says so. And you're going to

kill all the Galts. There can't be any place safer than with both of

you. Besides, what if something happens and you need a physician?"

"I'll find one of the armsmen or a servant they can spare," Cehmai said.

"We can at least have her safely-"

"No," Maati said. "Let her stay. She reminds me why we're doing this."

Eiah's grin was the image of relief and joy. Of all the terrors and