Maia
hysteria.
    "Yes."
    "In the lake? You've always swum, have you? You swim well?"
    When we are plunged in desperate trouble, often it affords some slight relief to give what we know to be the right answer to a question-any question-even one that seems to have no bearing on our misery. Perhaps this is due to superstition-in some unforeseeable way the answer, being correct, may help. Certainly it can do no harm, and the mere giving of it grants a little respite.
    "I've swum three miles before now. Anything an otter can do, I can do it."
    "Good," said Occula. "Well, now, banzi, understand this. You're out in deep water, and it's a bastin' long way to the land. Never mind how you got there. No good thinkin' about that now; that woan' keep you afloat. You're there, in the water, got it? What you goin' to do? Tell me, because I'm no swimmer."
    "Take it steady," replied Maia without hesitation. "No good losing your head, start splashin' about; only wear yourself out, start swallowing water an' then very likely that's it."
    "Anythin' else?"
    "Well, say you're making for somewhere as you can see, you got to watch ahead-make out if you're drifting one way or t'other. Then you can alter according, see, with the drift."
    "Fine! You've just given yourself better advice than ever I could. Now you just keep afloat and stop strugglin', because I'm goin' to tell you where we are. Right?"
    Maia, biting her lip, stared at her.
    "You're
a. slave
now," said Occula deliberately. "A slave bought and sold. You can't go home. If you try to escape, they've got ways of hurtin' you that doan' show. Now go on listenin' to me, because it's important. Tell me, where is this place, d'you know?"
    "Puhra, isn't it?"
    "Yes, about a mile outside Puhra. Ever heard of Senda-na-Say?"
    Maia nodded. "He used to be High Baron of Bekla. He's dead, isn't he?"
    "He was murdered by the Leopards nearly seven years ago. That out there-" she nodded towards the window- "that's what's left of one of his great houses. They burnt it, and most of his household, too. This used to be the
    grooms' quarters, but after the big house was burned, Lal-loc and Mortuga and one or two more of the big slave-dealers in Bekla turned it into a sort of depot. They've got their agents out all over the eastern provinces, you see, and this makes a convenient collectin'-place for slaves being sent up to Bekla.
    "The big money's in girls; girls and little boys, that is. As far as I can make out, they're even hotter for girls in Bekla than they are in Thettit, and that's sayin' somethin'. That's why I'm goin' there. Still, there'll be plenty of time later on to tell you about me.
    "Now listen, Maia, and try not to get upset any more, because that woan' help you. But
I'll
help you: I'm your big sister. Got it?"
    Maia nodded again.
    "They're goin' to take us up to Bekla, to this man Lalloc, to be sold for bed-girls. And now I'm goin' to tell you two bits of sense that may very well make all the difference to you. First, a bed-girl's got to be cunnin' and tough, even if she never shows it. Other people have fathers, mothers, families, homes, money, social standin', Cran knows what. We've got
nothin'.
We just have to rely on ourselves. A bed-girl who isn't tough and cunnin', or starts feelin' sorry for herself, just goes down and down until she dies young. And I mean
dies,
banzi! Have you got that?"
    Her eyes, brown-irised and slightly bloodshot, gazed earnestly into the younger girl's.
    "Yes," whispered Maia faintly.
    "Now the second thing is this. People value a girl as she values herself. Behave like a queen and you may even end up by convincin' some of the bastards that you really are one. Never ask a favor or tell them what's really in your heart. Somehow or other, you've got to keep your authority. Never act as if you wanted anyone to feel sorry for you. Do you understand?"
    Maia smiled faintly, returning the squeeze of her hand.
    "Good," said the black girl. "Now understand:
I'll
stick by you, because

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