"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 bad?" Idaan asked.
"He hasn't died. That's what I can offer for now," Eiah said. "Maati-kya, open your mouth. I don't have time to brew this, but it will help until I can get the rest of my supplies. It's going to be sweet first and then bitter."
"You've done it," Maati said around the pinch of leaves she put on his tongue.
Eiah looked at him, her expression startled. He smiled at her.
"You bound it. You've cured the blindness."
Eiah looked up at her creation, her slave. It nodded.
"Well, no," she said. "I mean, yes, I bound him. And I did undo Vanjit's damage to Ana and myself. And then you, when I saw that she'd done it."
"Galt?" Ana asked.
"I hadn't ... I hadn't even thought of it. Gods. Is there anything different to be done? I mean, a whole nation at once?"
"You have to do everything," Maati said. "Birds. Beasts. Fish. Everyone, everywhere. You have to hurry. It's only a thought." The herbs were making his mouth tingle and burn, but the pain in his breast seemed to ebb. "It's no different."
Eiah turned to the andat. The kind, pale face hardened. No matter how it seemed, the thing wasn't a man and it wasn't gentle. But it was bound to her will, and a moment later Eiah caught her breath.
"It's done," she said, wonder in her voice. "They've been put back. The ones who are left."
Ana stepped forward and knelt, wordlessly enfolding Eiah in her arms. From where he lay, he could see Eiah's eyes close, watch her lean into the embrace. The two women seemed to pause in time, a moment that lasted less than two long breaths together but carried the weight of years within it. Eiah raised her head sharply and the andat twitched. Idaan leaped up, yelping. All eyes turned to her as she pressed a flat palm to her belly.