“Tomorrow, then,” Nioni said.

“Not until we’ve prepared for our escape north,” Dasai said. “Ora Nasaka trusted my memory of what lies waiting for us in Caisau. Caisau is already under the sway of the invaders, but two of my colleagues are still in the city. We need our sinajista before we proceed. She is at least another week away. We hold until then.”

“If Rohinmey hadn’t seen those men–” Nioni said.

“If he had not, we would be dead,” Dasai said, “along with the Patron. Or we’d be sold off among his possessions to his successor. The terror and madness that sweeps across Saiduan when a Patron is killed would have ended our task before it began. Now we can get to Caisau and wake the creature there. We must merely endure more intense scrutiny.”

“Are we going to tell the boys who the invaders really are?” Nioni asked.

“We continue to do what the Kai sent us to do,” Dasai said. “Until it is time to do as Ora Nasaka and I planned. I made inquiries about the books mentioned in that text from the Dhai scholar. I have an old colleague who may have found one of them for us. Let’s wait to tell the boys about the invaders. It’s too much.”

Aramey folded his arms. “We are putting a lot of faith in old books.”

“All of my faith is in a book,” Dasai said. “The Book of Oma. Books have great power, Aramey.”

“Only as much as we give them,” Nioni said. “The Saiduan are hoping for a book of miracles.”

“We may have one,” Dasai said, “but I prefer to keep a number of switches in my basket.”

“I hope it’s worth sending the boys out for it,” Nioni said. “If they’re caught–”

“They won’t be caught,” Dasai said. “It’s still festival season. The Saiduan have a festival every week during the winter, even now. Especially now. They have very little to hope for. Sending the boys out to enjoy themselves won’t seem amiss.”

“I’m just very uncomfortable with this,” Nioni said. “These are Saiduan we’re betraying.”

“I know that better than anyone,” Dasai said, “but now is a time for calm.” For the second time in as many weeks, he questioned his decision to bring Nioni here. He needed men he could trust who could speak Saiduan, and whose families were large enough that they could afford to lose them. And Nioni was dying of stomach cancer. He would not survive the year. Aramey, his large-hearted husband, had wanted to die with him. Their situation was ideal for his purpose. But he worried they did not have the strength for what needed to be done.

“We’ll wait,” Aramey said. He pointed to the sky. “I just worry they won’t.”