For Darkness Shows the Stars

her accident. So dull. She only wants to talk about music anymore.” She sighed. “I guess it’s just as well a Post will have her. She might have trouble finding a husband otherwise.”
    Elliot found it impossible to imagine Kai as a consolation prize, and she wondered if Tatiana would still devote so much attention to other people’s marriages if she had any other understanding of power. To her, you were born a Luddite lord or you married one. But Elliot was a lord now, and she still considered it less of an achievement than coaxing seeds into fields of wheat that would feed a hundred families, than building ships from scratch or searching for new lands, or even a cure to the Reduction itself.
    The Reduced finished securing the rowboat on the beach and they turned to trek back up the steep path that cut through the cliff. Elliot raised her eyes to the land above them, and saw a figure standing at the top, his superhuman eyes shadowed by the diffused, misty light, the ends of his blue velvet jacket blowing behind him in the wind.
    Her steps faltered. Was Kai’s hearing so unnaturally good that he’d been able to make out Tatiana’s words, even from so far away? As she watched, he gave her a stiff bow, and when they reached the top of the path, it was Tatiana who spoke first.
    “Captain Wentforth,” she said, and there was only a trace of mockery in her tone. “Have you heard that my father and I are leaving the North estate?”
    “I had not.”
    “We’re leaving it in the hopefully capable hands of my sister,” she said. “And we’ll be living from now on down in Channel City.”
    He turned to Elliot. “Is this true?”
    She nodded. “I’m to take over management of both estates, beginning at once.” She expected him to look happy, but his face remained grave.
    “Yes,” said Tatiana. “ Both estates. And we shall see if she’s up to the task.”
    Kai was silent for a long moment, and then took a deep breath, smoothing his frown into something that almost, but not quite, resembled a smile. “I’m sure she is.”

Forty-two
     
    DEE GAVE BIRTH TO her baby on the first day of spring. Since her father and sister had packed up and left, Elliot had transformed one entire wing of the North house into chambers for pregnant women, new mothers, and babies—both Reduced and Post. News of her father’s departure had spread quickly through the enclaves, and many of the old North Posts had returned to the estate, starting with Thom. Elliot was glad that he was there to witness the birth of his daughter. Felicia had attended the delivery, which was a relief to Elliot. Felicia was training some of the North healers to improve the quality of medical care on the estate, and had brought her students along to demonstrate some techniques.
    “We’re naming her Li,” said Dee, cradling her newborn in the bed that had once been Tatiana’s. “After you.”
    “And me,” Felicia said with a laugh.
    Elliot squeezed Dee’s free hand. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
    “You’d better figure it out,” Dee said. “It’ll be a few months before I can go back to work.”
    Planting season had begun in earnest, and Elliot had bravely—or foolishly—decided to expand her experiment this year. Over half the wheat fields on both estates had been devoted to her special strain. If it performed as expected, it would cut down tremendously on the amount of work the laborers would be forced to do, and if it didn’t, she still had planted enough conventional grain that they would be able to feed themselves this winter.
    As she drove with Felicia back to the Boatwright house, Elliot stared out over the plowed fields of her vast home. This is what she’d wanted for four years—the North estate, happy and prosperous. The Boatwright estate, returned to its former glory. The laborers well taken care of, the Posts rewarded for their work with freedom and autonomy.
    The only downside of having all these extra Posts on the estate was that she found herself with more free time than she’d ever had before. Indeed, if she wasn’t cautious, she might find herself with as little to do as the laziest Luddite lord. Between the relatively low maintenance of her special strain of wheat and the dozens of workers who’d flooded back to the estate—most with more experience in farming, labor management, and animal husbandry than Elliot ever had—her duties had suddenly become remarkably light. The irony