going to return to Saviič after I finished making a copy of the text.”
“What’s going to return to the world when the Rift is healed?”
“That’s the first question I’ll ask him.”
“Well, why do the Eculans think the Rift is something that can be healed? I mean, we’re talking about the ocean between us and Hathrir, right? It’s not a wound to be stitched.”
“I believe they are using the term to refer to the event rather than the ocean. The event that created the ocean, in other words, and the Hathrim if you give any credence to their version.”
“You’re talking about old legends.”
“Yes. It’s a favorite subject of mine.”
The chamberlain made no comment on that but returned to the text. “I don’t like this part where some will thrive and others will die. Even with the missing words it demonstrates a confrontational mindset. Label someone selfish or whatever this missing word is and you have justification for going to war. It’s the sort of language the Hathrim use to justify their history of violence.”
I nodded in agreement, and she continued, finally paying attention to the first sentence. “And in the end there will be one? One what? One nation?”
“Perhaps. I cannot say for certain, but I think it refers to the kennings.”
“That’s ominous.”
“Indeed.”
“Is there more along this line?”
“Yes, much more. Thus far it is not a scripture concerned with enlightenment and spiritual improvement. Maybe the tone will lighten soon.”
“Well. I will mention it to the mistral. It’s important work that you’re doing, Gondel, but not so important that you need to forgo sleep or live outside of the wind. This library is little better than the dungeon.”
“I find it a vast improvement.”
“Go home and open the windows. With such negative words entering your mind you need to breathe peace, and there is no terrible hurry.”
“That we know of.”
Teela crossed her arms. “All we know at this point is coming from you. Do you see a reason to push yourself past exhaustion over this?”
I sighed in defeat. “Nothing I can specifically point to. Just a feeling.”
“You’re feeling tired, Gondel. Go home.”
Once she said it out loud, I felt my eyelids droop, ready to sleep. “Very well.”
It would be good to see Maron again even if he was cross with me. A change in the wind would be welcome.
But Maron turned out to be in no mood to breathe peace when I arrived home. A glass flew at my head and shattered against the doorjamb when I entered.
“Bastard!” he shouted. “Where have you been?”
“At Windsong and the library. Was that one of our wedding glasses?”
“What wedding? What marriage? You call this a marriage? You disappear in the middle of the night and then no word from you for weeks! I thought you were dead!”
“I’m not. I’m sorry, Maron, but the mistral summoned me, and it’s been most extraordinary—”
“Oh, the mistral! So that excuses it all? Doesn’t the mistral have some boys waiting around to do any little thing she wishes? You could have thought to send a message!”
“You’re right. I should have. I’m so sorry.”
Maron folded his arms across his chest. Still so handsome; he had aged far more gracefully than I. “I’m not sure you are sorry, Gondel. That’s just a word you’re saying because you perceive it’s the time to say it, not something you truly feel. You know what you are? Distant. Inaccessible. Just like your brother.”
I’d been resigned to enduring his lecture because I’d earned one, but that piqued my anger and I raised a finger. “Now that’s not fair, Maron.”
“Not fair because it’s inaccurate? Or not fair because it hurts your feelings?”
“It’s inaccurate. And you know it hurts my feelings.”
“It’s entirely accurate, and it hurts your feelings because you don’t want it to be. But you are driven, Gondel, just like him, to the point where you don’t recognize you’re hurting the people around you.”
Some words, aimed and thrown at the right time, are sharper than steel. Maron’s pierced me, and I had to sit down, tossing my bag onto the desk and sinking into my chair. The very last thing I wanted to be was my brother. But it was true I had become so involved, so single-minded in solving the mystery that Saviič presented, that I hadn’t spared my own husband a thought in all that time.
“You are right,” I murmured, lowering my face into my hand because I couldn’t look at him. “I’ve been inconsiderate and selfish and rude. And, and, I guess, if you