There was a guardpost, now deserted, high above the port. Vaintè went there and stood in the lengthening shadows while the loading of the uruketo was completed. The last cargo taken into it were the limp bodies of a number of deer. Vanalpè had improved upon the toxin, normally used to stun large animals so they could be moved. The new drug did not stun—nor did it kill—but rather brought the creatures to the very brink of death. Their heartbeats could barely be detected, their breathing was immensely slowed. Treated in this manner they could cross the ocean to Inegban*, needing neither food nor water, to provide needed meat for the hungry citizens there. It was Vaintè’s fervent wish, and she spoke it aloud though none could hear, that Malsas< be treated in this way. To lie dead but not-dead until the end of time.

When the uruketo left at dusk Vaintè returned silently and alone through the growing darkness and, despite the anger still possessing her, fell instantly asleep.

Sleep cleansed her mind of hatred, but in the morning it still lurked there at the edge of her thoughts. To those that saw her in the ambesed she appeared as always. But she had one glimpse of Alakensi across the ambesed and she had to turn away, rigid with hatred. Her temper was short as many discovered. It was Enge’s ill luck to approach her at this time.

“I have a small request, Eistaa,” she said.

“Refused. From you and your walking-dead creatures I want only work.”

“You were never cruel without a reason before this,” Enge said calmly. “It is my understanding that to the Eistaa all citizens are equal.”

“Precisely. It is my decision that the Daughters of Death are no longer citizens. You are work animals. You will labor until you die; that is your fate.” The memory surfaced, long put aside by the pressure of work, brought up now by the sight of Enge standing before her.

“The ustuzou you were teaching to talk. What of them? Time has passed, a great deal of time.”

“More time is needed, that is the request that I have. More time—or no time.”

“Explain yourself.”

“Each morning I begin to work with the ustuzou with hope that this will be the day of comprehension. Each evening I leave them with the strong sensation that it is all a wasted labor. The female is intelligent—but is it just the intelligence of an elinou that prowls the city seeking out and killing mice? The actions look intelligent but certainly are not.”

“What of the male?”