Seasons of War

‘I’ve learned everything you know. I understand.’
    ‘No,’ Maati said. ‘There’s more. I can tell you more. I know what it is to lose someone you love. I know what it is to feel betrayed by the ones you thought closest to you.’
    ‘Then you know the world isn’t worth saving,’ Vanjit said.
    The words hung in the air. Maati tried to rise, but he was short of breath, wheezing like he’d run a race. His racing heart filled his ears with the sound of rushing blood.
    ‘It is,’ he said. ‘It’s worth . . .’
    ‘Ah. There’s Eymond. Everyone in Eymond, blind as a stone. And Eddensea. There. Gone. Bakta. But why stop there, Maati-kya? Here, the birds. All the birds in the world. There. The fish. The beasts.’ She laughed. ‘All the flies are blind. I’ve just done that. All the flies and the spiders. I say we give the world to the trees and the worms. One great nation of the eyeless.’
    ‘Vanjit,’ Maati said. His back hurt like someone had stabbed him and left the blade in. He fought to find the words. ‘You mustn’t do this. I didn’t teach you this.’
    ‘I did what you told me,’ she said, her voice rising. The andat’s cry rose with her, an infantile rage and anguish and exultation at the world’s destruction. ‘I did what you wanted. More, Maati-kvo, I did what you couldn’t do yourself, and you hated me for it. You wanted me dead? Fine, then. I’ll die. And the world can come with me.’
    ‘No!’ Maati cried.
    ‘I’m not a monster,’ Vanjit said. Like a candle being snuffed, the andat’s wail ceased. Vanjit collapsed beside him, as limp as a puppet with cut strings.
    There were voices. Otah, Danat, Eiah, Idaan, Ana. And others. He lay back, letting his eyes close. He didn’t know what had happened. For the moment, he didn’t care. His body was a single, sudden wash of pain. And then, his chest only ached. Maati opened his eyes. An unfamiliar face was looking down at him.
    The man had skin as pale as snow and flowing ink-black hair. His eyes were deep brown, as soft as fur and as warm as tea. His robe was blue silk embroidered with thread of gold. The pale man smiled and took a pose of greeting. Maati responded reflexively. Vanjit lay on the floor, her arm bent awkwardly behind her, her eyes open and empty.
    ‘Killed her,’ Maati said. ‘You. Killed her.’
    ‘Well. More precisely, we wounded her profoundly and then she died,’ the pale man said. ‘But I’ll grant you it’s a fine point. The effect is much the same.’
    ‘Maati!’
    He lifted his head. Eiah was rushing toward him, her robes pressed back like a banner by her speed. Otah and Idaan followed her more slowly. Ana and Danat were locked in a powerful embrace. Maati lifted his hand in greeting. When she drew near, Eiah hesitated, her gaze on the fallen girl. The pale man - Wounded - took a pose that offered congratulations, and there was irony in the cant of his wrists. Eiah knelt, touching the corpse with a calm, professional air.
    ‘Oh, yes,’ the andat said, folding its hands. ‘Quite dead.’
    ‘Good,’ Eiah said.
    ‘ He isn’t standing,’ Idaan said, nodding toward Maati.
    Eiah’s attention shifted to him and her face paled.
    ‘Just need. To catch my breath.’
    ‘His heart’s stopping,’ Eiah said. ‘I knew this would happen. I told you to drink that tea.’
    Maati waved his hand, shooing her concerns away. Danat and Ana had come. He hadn’t noticed it. They were simply there. Ana’s eyes were brown and they were beautiful.
    ‘Can’t we . . . can’t we do something?’ Danat asked.
    ‘No,’ said the andat in the same breath that Eiah said, ‘Yes. I need my satchel. Where is it?’
    Danat rushed back to the great doors, returning half a moment later with the physician’s satchel in his hands. Eiah grabbed it, plucked out a cloth bag, and started shuffling through sheaves of dried herbs that to Maati looked identical.
    ‘There’s another bag. A yellow one,’ Eiah said. ‘Where is it?’
    ‘I don’t think we brought it,’ Danat said.
    ‘Then it’s back at the quay. Get it now.’
    Danat turned and sprinted. Gently, Eiah took Maati’s hand. He thought at first she meant to comfort him, but her fingers pressed into his wrist, and then she reached for his other hand. He surrendered himself to her care. He didn’t have a great deal of choice. Idaan squatted at his side, Otah sitting on the dais. The andat rose, stepping back by Ana’s side as if out of respect.
    ‘How