"Of course you have rights," said Fengye. She is wild, fierce, rain-soaked and blue eyed, but none of that stands between her and the lessons she learned while others were studying the blade. "As is your right I shall address you as the Rootwash, moving soil that leaves the mangroves bare. I shall make you the offering of mango, rice and salt and perform the flooding dance," only the faintest touch of hand to knee, "and cry out your name as I strike the ceremonial gong. I shall haul your shrine from the river using the sacred rope and scrub the silt from it. Because you have rights."

She raised a finger. Pointed. "As do I. She is [i]mine[/i]."