Am I weak? Am I really and truly weak?

There is one thing that most people hate about working on an airshipmore than anything else: the times when you are trapped in your barracksbecause it's too cold or windy to risk stepping out on the deck, sosometimes you end up spending days in your bunk, even more frequently ifyou're just a stitcher like me and not a box loader or a rope puller.

So I've had plenty of time to think. I think about what happened inGateway between Jezebel and I, and I think about what happened betweenDagh and I as well.

Even if I had not converted to the Star, I would not have taken Dagh'semployment offer. I deliberately did not ask what it even was, out offear that it might be a job so tempting that it might have been moredifficult to decline or could have shaken me. I needed every drop ofresolve I had that day.

I would never worship Dagh. I know he is real and that he exists, but Ialso know that he is a dark and vengeful man and I have already fallenvictim to worshipping a man like that once before. Fool me once, shameon you; fool me twice…

His followers are all insane, people are murdered in his name, and he'sshown through his example with Weatherwax that once he's either bored orfinished with his followers that he tosses them out like so muchgarbage. For all I know, Absalom is dead right now because of just sucha thing. How could I worship someone I can't trust? How could I evenfollow such a man, Star or no Star?

Dagh called the Star a crutch, but any doctor will tell you that acrutch is something to make your walk easier. Will my life be easiernow that I have to stop lying to myself? Will it be easier for peopleto respect me now that I've taken a slave's religion as my own? I feelas though I've emptied my pockets of knives to throw to defend myselfand painted a big target on my back. I've been on crutches before, andthey were much easier to manage than this. If something happens inNagai and the slaves become slaves again, I won't give up the Star, and Imight risk slavery myself because of it.

I am not the same woman I was one week ago. The fire that smolderedeverything and blinded me has died down enough to allow light through. I can see… but the light still hurts my eyes, far more than the flamesever did. I have to swallow the fact that I am vulnerable, and that Ihave my weaknesses deep deep down.

It was realizing whose weaknesses that made me convert to begin with. Although I didn't ask in specific words, Jezebel seemed to know what Iwas saying. Why couldn't I feel the Star's love all the times I sodesperately reached out for someone to love me?

It was her answer that hurt the most. Her answer that broke the wallsand quenched the fire. It did love me, but I was too stubborn and angryand eager to blame myself to allow myself to feel it. Even now, it ishard to let go, to trust. Old habits die hard and I'm an old rat.

When my faith starts to waver, I just think back to the queen who criedfor me, and not out of pity but because she understood my pain exactly. If the Star is strong enough to make it so that a queen can cry for arat, then the Star is all the strength I really need. Keep your magic,keep your gods who were once mortal men… I would rather be loved thanempowered. I would rather believe in something that will not bow to thewhims and desires of mortal people.

And if I am wrong, then I am wrong. I will still die, but I wouldrather die and face oblivion believing in a god who could finally answermy questions, than live under the thumb of a god that didn't love me. Iwas never afraid of death. I should have died as a baby, I should havedied when the Shekel blew, I should have died in Rephidim… Every day Ilive is a blessing and something I did not earn. If I continued to livebelieving that I had to earn everything I had, then I would have to takemy own life. My faith in the Star has nothing to do with how I plan tolive eternity. I'll accept whatever reward or punishments eternitygives me; what matters to me is how I live.

This new path has made me consider what exactly my purpose is. I willtry to trust that the Star will guide me, but I also must consider mytools at hand.

First there is Burr and Thorn. I'm chewing on a proposition for thecaptain if he decides to keep me on, but it might put me out of work. The important thing will be that if it flies, I don't want Burr to takethis as my booting him out. If I could have my way, I'd keep the big lugwith me forever. But he's not property, and he should have some hand indeciding what to do for his future. I need to teach him how to be free,and I need to teach myself not to treat him like my pet anymore.

There's also Absalom. I would probably be breaking half the ruleswritten by the Star if I could ever get my hands on him. Maybe it's goodthat I haven't heard from him since I left Sylvania… as I do not knowif I could keep myself from killing him slowly enough to make up for thedeaths of my sisters and countless half sisters. … But for some reasona little voice tells me that even if I killed him I wouldn't feelproperly satisfied. Just like Weatherwax I suppose. I still wantrevenge though… If I saw him again, I think that I would most assuredlykill him unless I had some great reason not to. At the very least Iwant him taken out before he kills any more children or ruins any morelives.

As for Prince Dack… Dagh's confession opened my eyes a bit and gave mea different perspective. The whole experience with Dagh in Abu Dhabileft me feeling odd. I have to believe that the Star has changed mesomehow, because no matter how deep I dig inside of myself I can't findany anger or hatred towards Dagh or Prince Dack. I am sad andconcerned… but I'm not angry. I wish I could help Dagh. Maybe Arielis right… as sick and twisted as it sounds, I think that Dagh feelssomething missing just like I did. He seems almost like a caricature ofwhat I was. Even though I expect it to kill me, I still wish I couldreach out to him somehow. If I ever go to Olympia again I will leaveflowers at his statue there. It seems that not even his faithfulsubjects do that for him.

The prince himself is another story. I can't muster up so much as athimbleful of anger towards him either, but I also like him… probablytoo much, which makes him dangerous. I've no evidence for this, but Iget the feeling that the prince's family has been doing the Dagh thingfor ages now, maybe even passing down the mantle of playing Dagh forevery generation, and now it's the prince's turn. My heart tells me thatI need to march down to his lands and tell him to stop pretending to beDagh… but I've no idea how I plan to do that. I might not even knowwhen I find myself standing face to face with him again.

Dagh hasn't killed me. There's a reason for that, there must be. I'mstill going to try to find a way to see what happened when I was a baby,although I've no idea exactly how I plan to do this. Maybe the Starwill point me to a way. What confuses me is, what exactly was done tome? I know it wasn't the magic weakness… that came later when thelife mages stripped me down. So what is it?

If I was dedicated to Dagh as a child, what was I dedicated to him for? I feel guilty in thinking that it might be as a bride. I will confessto feeling lonely, and I don't need these feelings coloring myjudgment… but still, if I bore a child with Prince Dack, then the babywould be a black Khatta, but he would also have Naochi blood in hisveins and would be able to bypass all of the traps underneath thecastle. What's more, the child would be the heir to Naochi lands andDack would finally own that cursed table.

There are other things as well. Maybe I am fated to die on that table,just maybe it needs to be done at a certain date. So many theories…

Either way, I'm drained now and I need to stretch my legs. After thatI'll go back to reading Testy's book a bit more. His handwriting iseasier to read than what was in the smaller book. Maybe I'll give thesmaller one to Thorn since he's slowly learning how to read himself.