"I'll wait outside," said the young winterling. "Call, if you need anything."

Maia only grunted. Concentrating to control her trembling grip, she pushed a spoonful of porridge into her mouth. While her body quivered with simple, beast-level pleasures of taste and satiation, a small part of her remained offset, pondering. I wonder what their family name is. I should've known. Naroin was always too damn competent to be another unnik var.

Sooner or later, Maia knew she must start cataloging her ream of losses, against her slim resume of assets. Later sounded better. One thing at a time — that was how she planned living from now on. Maia had no intention of giving up, but neither was she ready yet for linear thinking.

Despite her earlier famishment, she couldn't more than half finish her meal. Feeling suddenly fatigued, Maia let Naroin's younger version carry off the tray. Not once did she look directly at the neatly folded letter, but she kept in physical contact with it, as a drowning woman might hold onto a plank from a shattered ship.

When she next awoke, it was dark outside. Shreds of a dream were evaporating, like shy ghosts fleeing the pale electric lamp by her bedside. Her body was prickly with goose bumps and beads of sweat. Her thoughts still seemed dispersed, one moment focused and coherent, and the next hurtling somewhere else, like windblown leaves.

That made her recall Old Bennett and his rake, in the courtyard of Lamatia Hold. What would he think of where I've been . . . what I've seen? Probably, the coot no longer lived. Which might be best, given what Maia had done — inadvertently delivering into the archreactionary hands of Church and Council the last remnants of that secret hope the old man had kept next to his heart. A dream gone blurry from being passed down generations in secret lodges — as if men could ever know the constancy of clones.

Renna, Bennett, Leie, Brod, the rads, the men of the Manitou . . . there was room enough for all on the honor roll of those she had let down.

Stop it, Maia told herself numbly. The deck was stacked long ago. Don't blame yourself for things you couldn't prevent.

But she might as well tell the winds and tides to stop, as shuck off that sense of fault, which seemed less refutable for being so vague.

Maia saw that she still tightly clutched the letter. Red bits of crumpled wax lay scattered across the coverlet. She tried smoothing the paper with her hands. Lifting it to the light, she peered to make out, amid wrinkles, a fine, flowing hand.

Dear Maia,

Wish I could be with you, but they say we're needed here. I've got to play tour guide, showing all sorts of vips around the defense center. (They sure act mad, so I guess it was secret from a lot of high mothers in Caria, not just the public!) Leie has a job, too —

Naroin had said they both lived, but this confirmation was stronger. Maia abruptly sobbed, her vision clouding as emotion flooded back from being dammed away.

 — Leie has a job, too, demonstrating that incredible simulation wall you found. Neither of us can match you for figuring this stuff out, but we're helping each other, and look forward to talking to you, soon as you're well.

I guess by now they've filled you in, and I'm kind of rushed getting this off before the Gentilleschi takes you away. So here's what happened from my point of view.

When you didn't return by an hour before dawn, I pulled in the cable, as you made me promise to do. I hated doing it, but then something changed my mind. Just after sunrise, fighting broke out, down on the ships. I later learned it was the rads, who you'd helped escape —

Maia blinked. I what? All she had done was make a promise to Thalia, one she never got a chance to keep. Unless the big var had managed to use the scissors, somehow. As a lockpick, perhaps? To slip their chains, then trick the guards? Or perhaps Baltha and Togay had already pulled the sentinels away, when battle seemed imminent with the men.

The revolt went well, at first. But then reavers rushed out before the rads could set sail. There was shooting. Some rads escaped in a little boat after setting fire to both ships.

It didn't seem a good time to lower myself down. I paced like crazy, worrying about you, till I arrived at the east end of the tooth, looking to sea. That's when I saw the flotilla coming up from Halsey. Not just the creaky old Audacious, which had been on duty when I was last there, but the Walrus and the Sea Lion, too! I guess the guild finally decided it had enough of its former clients, and was coming to settle accounts.

I ran to the elevator, went downstairs to the bathroom and broke a mirror. Grabbed a piece and hurried back up. The sun in the east made it easy to signal the ships. To give them some idea what to expect. There was shooting when they tried to enter the lagoon, then Sea Lion broke through just about the time everyone else in the world arrived!

One pair of fancy ships swung around the south side of Jellicoe, waving temple banners. And up north, I saw several fast cruisers appear. Later learned these were from the Ursulaborg Commercial Police Department! A little out of jurisdiction, but who cares? Naroin had called 'em out as militia, it seems. Honest, local cops with no Council connections.

Just as this crowd was jostling into the lagoon, and smoke started pouring out of the old sanctuary, that's when a big, smuggy zep'lin showed! I didn't like the looks of the clones leaning out of the gondola. (They were mad as hell!) So I turned on the winch and lowered myself. Made it down in time to help my guildfolk settle with the temple nuns and Naroin's posse that we were all on the same side.

It took a while overcoming the reavers' rear guard — they're hellion fighters — then we ran after them while they chased after you …

Maia's eyes blurred. Although Brod's simple account was dramatic, she had only limited stamina and her mind felt full to bursting. Not rushing matters, she waited for vision to clear before resuming.

Things were a mess, especially outside the auditorium, where your Manitou people had fought the reavers. Fortunately, there were docs along, to care for the wounded.

That wall of lights stopped us cold for a moment, and I got scared when I saw Leie, groaning on the floor, and thought it was you. She's fine, by the way, but I already said that. Just woozy from a bump on the head. Leie wanted to chase after the ones chasing you. But I was told to help her out to where the air was better, while Naroin's pros led the pursuit from there.

We limped outside just in time to get knocked to our knees by what seemed like thunder. We looked up and saw the space launcher fire its pod into the sky . . . and what happened next.

I'm sorry, Maia. I know it must hurt awful, like when they brought your poor body out, and I thought you were dying. To me, that felt like you must have, when you saw your alien friend blow up.

Again, Maia's heart yawned open. This time however, she was able to smile poignantly. Good old Brod, she thought. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her.

Leie and I waited outside while the nun-doctors operated on you. (That's the one group I still can't figure out where they came from, or why. Did you call them?) Meanwhile, there were so many questions. So many people insisting on hearing what everyone else knew, even though it meant repeating everything over and over. The story's still coming out, bit by bit, while more boats and zeps keep arriving all the time.

Oh, hell. I'm being called again, so this'll have to be it for now. I'll send more, later. Get better soon, Maia. We need you, as usual, to figure out what we oughta do!

With winter warmth, your friend and shipmate  — Brod.

There was an afterword in another hand — a left-handed scrawl Maia instantly recognized.