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learning the higher order script, so he kept teaching me a few tensets ahead of where Laiyonea had left off. Learning the symbols with Mati’s arm draped over my shoulders was much more pleasant than Laiyonea’s teaching methods, even if it often ended in more kissing than writing.
    It was fortunate I had his support, for I’d been wrong about the higher order symbols being easier, and though I had found more of the symbols from my heart-verse, I was no closer to decoding it no matter how long I pored over the faded paper. Once I had mastered the first twenty tensets, Laiyonea explained about the complicated determinatives used with the higher order symbols, which could change the meaning at least eight different ways. She showed me the higher order symbol life and all its determinatives.I tried to imitate her quick, precise strokes, but within minutes I’d thrown my quill down in frustration.
    The council was out of session for First Shining, and Mati had gone with his father to visit Del Gamo’s mines near Pira, three days’ ride from the city. Pira had been the site of a slave uprising the Veiling before, and Mati had told me, frowning, that his father planned to leave two hundred guards behind after visiting the mines; he plainly felt that the king showed too much favor to the western vizier. I worried about Mati’s safety on the road, but he had only laughed when I’d said so, and pointed out that he would be surrounded by guards.
    Ever since he had left, I’d thought I might burst out of my skin from missing him. But today I was glad he wasn’t here—I’d never had so much trouble with any symbol before, not even gift , and I’d have been embarrassed for him to see it.
    â€œI don’t understand,” I said grumpily. “Why does it need so many variations?”
    Laiyonea tapped the paper. “Because the higher order symbols allow you to express more subtlety of meaning than the lower order symbols do.” She pointed to the base symbol. “This means the basic act of living. Survival. With this determinative”—she added a swoop across the top—“it means living for a higher purpose. With this”—she added a curve at the bottom—“it means to live without fear.” She continued to add lines, until they practically blurred in my vision. “With all of them in place, it means a state of being so fully engaged with life that one no longer fears death.”
    I stared at her. “How is that even possible?”
    Laiyonea smiled. “Suffice it to say that the base symbol would be used for a creature that eats, sleeps, and breathes, while the determinatives describe a life lived more fully.”
    â€œSo . . . the base symbol applies to animals, and you add the different determinatives to write about people?”
    Laiyonea’s smile froze. “Not exactly.” She dipped her quill and sketched the symbol again without the determinatives. “The base symbol is used for animal life, yes. But . . . with the determinatives,” she said without looking up, “it is only ever used to refer to Qilarites.”
    I swallowed, a vile taste in my mouth. So even the language of the gods—or, at least what I had learned of it in the Adytum—equated the Arnathim with animals, putting the lowliest illiterate Qilarite peasant above us. I wondered if Tyasha had taught the determinatives to the Resistance; I could only imagine what they would have said about this symbol. I was even more relieved, now, that Mati was away.
    Reluctantly I tried the symbol again, but the lines came out all wrong. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to get them right.
    â€œYou’re doing fine,” said Laiyonea in what was, for her, a patient tone.
    â€œWhat does it matter?” I grumbled. “Who will know if any of the strokes are wrong? Everything I write will burn.”
    â€œIt matters,” she said crisply,