A day later, Jhai and her mother were standing outside Paugeng, surveying the impressively improbable angle at which the building now leaned.
"Hell of a lot to do," Jhai remarked, almost cheerfully. Her mother gripped her hand in sympathy.
"Oh, Jhai, I'm so sorry. All your hard work . . ."
Jhai looked at her. Opal seemed older, somehow; it must be the stress of the last few days, not to mention her daughter's confession, but at least she was still alive. Jhai said, "Well, mother, we've gotten away with it. You know what I mean. And I can start again. Sometimes it helps, having a clean break." She was aware of a curious sense of anticipation, almost eagerness. Perhaps Heaven would come after her, or Hell. She didn't know how things would work out with Zhu Irzh, but perhaps it didn't matter. After all, she reflected, lovers came and went, but the city—well, the city and Paugeng would endure as long as she could help it. There would be a lot of rebuilding to do. And then, when she had finished with the city, there was the rest of the world to consider. She thought that her business interests had been a little narrow up to this point.
With Shai shattered and fallen, a major gate between the worlds was closed. It wasn't the only one. There had been reports all over the city, from people unable to contact their dead relatives anymore. Hell was sealed and silent. But not, Jhai thought, for long. There were other gates, after all. She thrust the thought aside. They'd solve that problem when they came to it.
"A lot to do," Jhai repeated. She met her mother's gaze, and pulled her fur-collared jacket closer against the unseasonable chill.