"I know what you're doing, too," said Eiadh. "I've watched you with Nafai for all these years, and I thought, at last, Elya has learned to give Nafai his proper respect. Elya's stopped being jealous of his little brother. But now I see that you were just biding your time."

Elemak would have slapped her face for that, except that the baby's head was in the way, and he would never harm his own child. "You've said enough," he warned.

"I'd beg you to stop because you love me," said Eiadh, "but I know that would never work. So I'm begging you to stop for your children's sake."

"For their sake? It's for their sake that I'm doing this. I don't want their lives disrupted for the sake of Rasa's conspiracies to get control of Dostatok and turn this into a village of women like Basilica."

"For their sake," said Eiadh again. "Don't make them see their father humiliated in front of everyone. Or worse."

"I can see how much you love me," said Elemak. "Apparently your bets are on the other side."

"Don't shame them by letting them see that you're a murderer in your heart."

"Do you think I don't understand this?" said Elemak. "You've had a yen for Nafai ever since Basilica. I thought you'd outgrown it, but I was wrong."

"Fool," said Eiadh. "I admired his strength. I admired yours, too. But his strength has never wavered, and he's never used it to bully other people. The way you treated your father was shameful. Your sons were in the other room, listening to how you talked to your father. Don't you know that someday, when you're old and frail, you may hear that same kind of disrespect from them? Go ahead, hit me. I'll set down the baby. Let your sons see how strong you are, that you can beat up a woman for no greater crime than telling you the truth."

Meb burst through the door. He had his bow and arrows. "Well?" he said. "Are you coming or not?"

"I'm coming," said Elemak. He turned to Eiadh. "I'll never forgive you for that."

She smirked at him. "In an hour you'll be asking for my forgiveness."

Nafai knew as he approached exactly what to expect. He had the memories of the Oversoul. He had heard the conversations between Elemak and his fellow plotters. He had listened as he ordered everyone to keep the children in their houses. He had felt the fear in everyone's hearts. He knew the damage Elemak was doing to his own family. He knew the fear and rage that filled his heart.

"Can't you make him forget this?" asked Nafai.

(No. That wasn't one of the powers I was given. Besides, he's very strong. My influence over him is oblique at best.)

"If he had chosen to follow you, he would have been better for your purposes than I am, wouldn't he?"

(Yes.) It might as well speak plainly, since it could keep no secrets from Nafai now.

"So I'm second choice," said Nafai.

(First choice. Because Elemak doesn't have it in him to recognize a purpose higher than his own ambition. He's far more crippled than Issib.)

Nafai sped south, the paritka skimming over the ground, automatically finding a smooth route at a pace Nafai found unimaginable. He cared nothing for the miracle of this machine. It was all he could do to keep from weeping. For now, as he focused on the people of Dostatok instead of the labors of restoring a starship, he "remembered" things that he had never guessed. The struggles and sacrifices Zdorab and Shedemei had made for each other. The cold hatred Vas felt for Obring and Sevet, and, ever since Shazer, for Elemak. Sevet's bitter self-loathing. Luet's and Hushidh's pain as their husbands treated them more and more like Elemak's idea of what wives should be, and less and less like the friends they were supposed to be.

Issib, who depends on Hushidh for everything in his life, how shameful for him to regard his wife as something less than a partner in all his work! And how more shameful for me, when my wife is the greatest of women, at least as wise as I am, that I have made her feel as she felt when I left her.

For he had seen all their hearts from the inside, and that is a vision that leaves no room for hate. Yes, he knew that Vas was a murderer in his heart—but he also "remembered" the agony that Vas went through when Sevet and Obring brought such shame on him. Never mind that Nafai himself had never thought that humiliation was an excuse for murder. He knew how the world looked from Vas's point of view, and it was impossible to hate him after that. He would stop him from getting his revenge, of course. But even as he did, he would understand.

Just as he understood Elemak. Understood how Nafai himself looked through Elemak's eyes. If only I'd known, thought Nafai. If only I'd seen the things I did that made him hate me.

(Don't be a fool. He hated your intelligence. He hated how you loved being intelligent. He hated your willing obedience to your father and mother. He hated even your hero-worship of Elemak himself. He hated you for being yourself, because you were so similar to him, and yet so different. The only way you could have kept him from hating you would have been to die young.)

Nafai understood this, but it changed nothing. Knowing all that he knew did not change the fact that he longed for things to be different. Oh, how he longed to have Elemak look at him and say, "Well done, Brother. I'm proud of you." More than those words from Father, Nafai needed to hear them from Elemak. And he never would. The best he would get from Elemak today was his sullen compliance. The worst would be Elya's dead body.

"I don't want to kill him," whispered Nafai, over and over.

(If you don't want to, then you won't.)

And then, again and again, Nafai's thoughts came back to Luet. Ah, Luet, why did it take this cloak to make me understand what I was doing to you? You tried to tell me. Lovingly at first, and in anger lately, but the message was the same: You're hurting me. You're losing my trust. Please don't do it. And yet I didn't hear. I was so caught up in being the best of the hunters, in living the man's life among men, that I forgot that before I was really a man, you took my hand and led me down to the Lake of Women; you not only saved my life, you also gave me my place with the Oversoul. All that I am, all that I have, my self, my children, I received it all at your hands, Luet, and then rewarded you shamefully.

(You're nearly there. Get control of yourself.)

Nafai pulled himself together. He could feel how the cloak worked within him, healing the skin around his eyes from the reddening that had come with his tears. Instantly his face gave no sign of having been in tears.

Is this how it will be? My face a mask, because I have this cloak?

(Only if you want it to be.)

Nafai "remembered" where Elemak and Mebbekew had gone, to lay an ambush for him. Vas and Obring were back in the village, making sure everyone stayed indoors. Elya and Meb were waiting, bows in hand, to kill Nafai as he approached.

Nafai's first thought had been to simply go around them, where they couldn't see him. Then he thought of flying past them so quickly they couldn't shoot. But neither course would be useful. They had to commit themselves. They had to put the arrows in him, unprovoked. "Let them strike me," said Nafai. "Help Meb with his aim—he'll never do it without your help—calming him, helping him concentrate. Let both arrows hit me."

(The cloak doesn't stop pain.)

"But it will heal me, once I pull the arrows out, right?"

(Well enough. But don't expect miracles.)

"All of this is a miracle," said Nafai. "Help Elemak miss my heart, if you're worried."

Elemak missed his heart, but not by much. Nafai slowed the paritka enough that they could get a clear aim. He could see, only an instant after the Oversoul itself saw, how the paritka frightened them both; how Meb almost lost his nerve, almost threw down his bow and ran. But Elemak never wavered, and his murmured command held Meb at his post, and then they aimed and fired.