“I’m mad at myself,” said Alden, “for all the time I’ve wasted since I came back from Thegund and all the decisions I’ve made because I was driven by fear. The better I feel, the more I see old mistakes.”

He’d been talking to Yenu-pezth for a while. She was in the room where they’d spoken before he’d had his nightmares altered. With the life-sized image of her displayed on the wall of his Matadero hospital room, it was almost like their chairs were right across from each other. She was bundled in an embroidered green and white robe, sipping on something, with the jar of honey he’d given her on the tray beside her.

“What mistakes do you see?” she asked.

“I missed out on some of the things I could have learned and experiences I could have had in intake. And I’ve failed to appreciate so many classes and workouts because some thought hits me. Like, ‘This kind of power and knowledge won’t save me if I’m in a place full of chaos.’ And I have a friend who was going through a hard time of his own while I was gone, because I was gone, and I think I let everything be about me too much when I got back.”

“Would this friend agree that you failed him in some way?”

“I don’t think so, but I also think he doesn’t respect himself as much as he should.”

Yenu-pezth set aside her drink and crossed her hands in her lap. “Did your friend ask you for help you didn’t give?”

“No.”

“Did you notice him struggling with something and make a deliberate choice not to help him?”

“No. I would have tried to help him if he asked for anything. Or if I noticed a way I should help him. But I did know he’d had a difficult time, and it’s only in the past couple of weeks that I realized we’ve barely talked about anything going on with him since I got back.”

“Have you asked him if he wants to talk to you about his troubles?”

Alden thought back to his past few conversations with Boe. “I’ve invited him to…and he hasn’t accepted the invitation yet.”

He’s waiting on me to learn contract tattoo magic for some of it.

“He might want your help. He might not. You don’t know. Is this true?”

Alden sighed. “Yes. Are you going to point out that if I don’t know for sure whether or not he wants my help now, I definitely don’t know if he wanted it many days ago?”

“I was eventually going to tie my questions to a different patuk’s tail,” said Yenu-pezth.“However, you make a good point for yourself to consider.”

“Oh. All right. I’ll consider it.”

She leaned forward. “I’m glad that you’re noticing positive changes in yourself. And seeing your past actions and difficulties in new ways can be instructive. But as you shed some of your fear and come to appreciate your strength, remember how much work you’ve done. When you’re angry with your past self for making mistakes that you wouldn’t make today, remember that he wasn’t—and couldn’t have been—thinking like your present self. What he experienced is not exactly what you see when you look back at him from where you are now. Let me ask you another question…”

******

Yenu-pezth didn’t give Alden a homework assignment, but after their meeting ended, he gave himself one almost by accident.

How many things did I do because of fear that I wouldn’t do today, and what fears are still messing me up?

An optimism born of having several good days in a row made him sit down with the intention of analyzing it all and fixing it. At the table where Tiny Snake had briefly lived when they were recovering together, he went over the past few months in his mind, writing down whatever fears and fear-influenced behaviors he could remember on his tablet.

It only took a few minutes for reality to dim his positivity. His efforts with Yenu-pezth were yielding great results, but doing Thegund over and over again in his dreams couldn’t solve everything. The fears about what his life would look like if his secrets got out hadn’t been dented.

On the bright side, a lot of other crap is on its way out of my life because I decided to tackle that one thing.

Seeing so much written down under the “Better Now” category he’d made was satisfying. The direct effects came to mind first. Not waking up in a panic every few mornings. Being able to answer the “What if it happens again?” questions in his head with something like, “I’d deal with it again,” instead of overwhelming dread. A large reduction in his guilt and obsessive thoughts about ignoring Kibby’s whistle.

He drew lines between that last one and a few of the things that had happened since he made it back home.

Boe wasn’t far off the mark.

All the way back at Halloween, he’d tied Alden’s sudden interest in confronting Manon to his feelings of guilt. He’d drawn out the confession about Kibby and the whistle and sparked that whole Hero Types conversation.

I wonder if guilt was the main driver, though. Or was it fear?

The fear that he’d lost parts of who he had been. Feeling like he didn’t understand himself or how he fit into the world.

Did I think knocking on Manon’s door and shouting, ‘You’re one of the bad guys! Stop hurting people!’ would bring back an older, better version of myself?

He definitely hadn’t thought it in plain words like that because plain words made it sound idiotic, and feeling idiotic would have made him question his impulses before Boe could.

At least that’s one issue that’s not driving me crazy now.

He could easily put “fear that I came back from Thegund a bad person” under the list of things that were better. He’d thought about it so much while he was writing his letter to Ryada because he imagined that her struggle with her skill and her new way of life had similarities to his own at that time.

Changes you can’t undo, so much discomfort and insecurity with what you’ve chosen and who you’ve become, a longing for a way of being that doesn’t exist for you anymore…

Alden had a video about Chicago tourism playing on the wall. It was showing Howl Hawk standing on the wing of an old airplane as it approached Meigs Field. He watched it land.

What if Boe hadn’t been here, and I’d rushed to confront Manon face-to-face? What if I’d gotten myself hurt or mind-altered? All because I was trying to claw back some aspect of my younger self that I imagined was better.

What had he thought was better about pre-Thegund Alden again?

Heroic impulses. Willingness to throw myself into danger for strangers.

And weren’t those things based on…?

“The untried confidence. The tower that was built on what I wished I could be like, that wasn’t even as strong as what I’m building now. I wanted some of my old self back because he had those illusions about himself that made him much more comfortable. And being comfortable…can feel the same as being right?”

He wasn’t sure he was hitting the nail on the head, but he thought he was coming close.

“So I guess a question I could ask is…was anything really better about who I was before? Or was it just easier?”

Fifteen-year-old Alden had taken less damage than I have. He wouldn’t have had a panic attack on the bus when the sirens sounded, and he’d be more cheerful than I am. Less morbid. But I had a major morbid phase once before, and I got over it. My dark and scary weirdo period…looking at images of Body Drainer’s corpse and despising people named after breakfast meats…someone should have been monitoring my internet usage…anyway, back to the question of then versus now.

Fifteen-year-old me could only speak one language. He didn’t know how to use wordchains. He might not have panicked on the bus, but he’d have died trying to save Zeridee.

I’m not angry at my past self, Healer Yenu. How was he supposed to know his confidence was an illusion until circumstances beat the shit out of him a few times and he turned into me?

But picking out everything that’s better about the me I am today isn’t half bad.

He only had about five minutes worth of that kind of thinking before he got tired of it, but that was enough to make him acknowledge that it would have been tragic to throw his life away a couple of months ago because he was chasing after someone he’d been a year ago, without ever knowing how he’d feel about himself during a week like this one when things were finally falling into place.

I do wonder why I fixated on Manon and the boater instead of something more manageable. He started erasing everything he’d written on the tablet line by line. Yeah, I saw Karl on the train and he reminded me of them, but why did I think the way to get my old self back was to take on a bunch of sketchy cult members who made my life harder at LeafSong? It was an unnecessarily large demand to make of myself before Boe got involved and I toned it down to something safer with the letter-writing scheme. Was I just not thinking straight? Did I believe doing good had to be dangerous and painful for me?

He pictured Stuart lifting a patient creature from the water. He blinked.

Do I still think doing good has to be like that? On some level?

Being a knight was dangerous. According to everything Alden knew, the universe needed more people willing to do that.

But there were also ways of being a good person that weren’t dangerous. And he could do some of them whenever he liked.

******

******

“Porti-loth, do you need help?”

The short wizard jumped, and the jar of snotty green powder he was levitating toward a high shelf nearly collided with the ceiling before he stopped it. “You are sneaking up on me!”

“Sorry. I was trying to find you, not sneak up on you.” Alden had located the healer on the more Artonanish floor of the hospital, in one of the supply rooms. He seemed to be adding to Matadero’s stockpile of potions and magical ingredients. There was a crateful of jars at his feet, and another unopened crate that said “meticulously harvested from Grelkoban Forest” just outside the door.

The jar landed gently on the shelf, and Porti-loth, pocketing his levitator wand, turned to regard Alden over the top of his glasses.

“I’ve started volunteering at the healing hospitals,” said Alden. “And I wanted to do that for a while this afternoon. But then I realized there was a healer much closer by who might appreciate help with something. Would you?”

Porti-loth’s critical look turned into a smile. “That is thoughtful. I like thoughtful people. But not today. Today I have a helper that is more trouble than help already. I’ll call you when I have work you can assist with.”

“All right.”

“What you may do is tell everyone you meet in the local houses of healing how important birth trees are. I am <<making corrective noises>> about this problem, but I won’t be able to make sure human Avowed continue to walk their infants below the trees that are being sent if they don’t take me seriously. They say, ‘None of our wizards have ever asked for birth ingredients.’ And, ‘Is this necessary?’”

Porti-loth made a noise. Maybe it was a corrective noise. It sounded like Alden imagined the angry horse hologram he’d practiced with at North of North would sound if it neighed as it attacked.

“Do you know how many people I had to talk with to start a birth tree program for our Avowed here? It was very many people.”

“You started a program? Already?”

“A beneficial program! Not a program anyone should complain about!” He grumbled under his breath then straightened. “Several children go under a tree, the tree goes to a fertile spot in one of the forest areas we have purchased elsewhere on Earth, the Contract remembers the location. Now our Avowed have nice birth trees. All spread out and secret so that the humans who do not like Avowed or Artonans can’t harm them.”

“That does sound like a beneficial program.”

“Thank you,” said Porti-loth.

“Does my tree get to come back and live in a safe location on Earth, too?”

“It’s only recently been settled in Rapport III. You wouldn’t want to disturb it with another move, would you?”

“No…I want it to be healthy…undisturbed.” He watched Porti-loth pull out the wand and point it at another jar. “Is Zeridee still here? I’d like to visit her before I go.”

A high voice from behind Alden made him jump even more than Porti-loth just had. “She ran away to hide from me. Or to go pretend she is an assistant to that fake-sweet ambassador. Both.”

The newcomer who stood in the hallway outside the supply room was probably male. Their hair hung loose just past their shoulders. It was a similar shade of purplish brown to their skin and their narrowed eyes. They carried a couple of jars of ingredients under one arm and held a bottle in the other hand.

They were also wearing a sandy yellow knight’s coat.

There’s another one here? Since when?

“Who are you to be looking for my sister and calling her by just her first name?” the unknown knight asked, peering at Alden. Their voice went high then low then high again in the span of a single sentence. Alden wasn’t sure how to understand that unless the bottle was to blame. It was the champagne Aulia Velra had donated. “And you are associated with the place where the weapon went missing. I think I will question you.”

That was the same word for question that Executioner Vilma had liked. There was a legal connotation to it.

“I’m not associated with missing weapons,” Alden said quickly. “I know Zeridee. She told me to call her just Zeridee when we met. You’re her sibling?”

“I’m her younger brother!” the knight declared with enthusiasm. “Call her und’h. I do not acknowledge her attempts to <<perform humiliation>> of herself by shedding her name because her attempts are stupid and insulting. I decided on Goldbush to tell her so. I will tell her so again and again when she comes back. And then I’ll take her home. After questioning you.”

That was still the word that implied Alden needed to be evaluated for possible criminal behavior. The only reason that word wasn’t making him nervous yet was the fact that this was Zeridee’s possibly drunk younger sibling who was helping Porti-loth put up jars. He seemed less…real…than a knight like Esh-erdi.

And now Porti-loth was stalking out of the supply room, past Alden, to glare at his fellow Artonan. “Did you take my improved champagne?”

“I found it with the powders. Is it yours?”

“Who else’s would it be? Don’t drink things out of bottles you find in a healer’s quarters. What if it was poisoned instead of improved?”

“The Contract would warn me,” the knight said.

“How do you know Earth Contract would warn you, <<young stupidnoggin>>? You’ve been here less than a day! Did you ask it if it would do such a thing?”

Alden felt like Earth deserved a tip of his nonexistent hat for translating whatever that insult was in that way.

Wait. Is it subtly calling me stupidnoggin? Because it knows something about the yovkew?

“You’re a grumpy elder. I don’t know why they are letting you on the oasis ship.”

“I do not want to be on any ship.”

“I’m sure there are healers who would be much gentler with the people they’re healing. The last person who healed me sang to me and massaged my hands.”

“Am I healing you at this moment?”

What am I witnessing?

Porti-loth reached back without looking, expertly located the front of Alden’s shirt, and tried to tug him forward. Alden obliged by taking a step. “Look at him!” Porti-loth said, gesturing at Alden like he was presenting him for approval. “Do you know what he would look like without me?”

He said it so darkly, as if Alden would be decomposing without his involvement.

“He did heal me well,” said Alden. “There was a mud potion…a large amount of mud potion…”

The knight took another swallow of the ‘improved’ wine before Porti-loth could snatch it away.

“Give me that! And you will not be questioning anyone. Remove that notion from both sides of your thoughts. There will be no questioning because that trouble is being dealt with by people who understand this planet better than you. Even if you were right to question someone, you would have to question every human there is before this one, for he is the one who guarded your sister’s life while risking his own. Aren’t you very sorry for how you greeted him now? He doesn’t even know your name. I should make you sit down with him and watch Kwoo-pak.”

“Please don’t,” said Alden.

“He’s that human? The very good Ryeh-b’t, Alden!” The knight sprang toward Alden until they were so close that a hug would have been less awkward. “I’m Yookee-und’h. Have you heard of me?”

Beside Alden, Porti-loth took a swig from the bottle.

“I haven’t,” Alden said. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right. It’s all right for you to call Zeridee by her first name only, too, since it’s you. You’re not wearing your commendation from Alis-art’h, or I would have recognized you. You should wear it so that nobody mistakes you for one who sucks nectar while others hunger.”

I know that reference. What exactly does he mean by it? Alden didn’t have time to process it since the guy was on a roll.

“I just made it to Earth. It was very difficult to convince my family to send me here, and I’m not even allowed to go see Anesidora. This hasn’t been the successful experience I had planned. Zeridee ran away after we’d only spoken for a brief while. Esh-erdi told me to stay here with the grumpy elder and learn patience. I didn’t think he’d be the sort to tell someone that, but he did. I would be quite grateful if you’d tell me every single detail of the night you helped my sister, especially the parts about the Avowed who tried to kill her. Do you know what their names were?”

“They died,” Alden said, unsure why Yookee-und’h’s smile was making him worried when the word for criminal questioning hadn’t. Maybe it was just the proximity.

“Yes. But do you know their names? It may help me to figure out something else.”

“You don’t need to figure that out,” Porti-loth said firmly. “You’re here for a family visit, not to bother Alden. And you’re starting to experience the effects of my improvement.”

“I am?”

Porti-loth nudged Yookee back from Alden, then nudged Alden toward the end of the hall.

“Go,” he muttered. “This one is not in a good way for company.”

“I understand. I’m glad I got to meet you, Yookee-und’h. Good to see you, Porti-loth.”

“Remember to tell people about the trees!” the healer called after him.