TWO HUNDRED FORTY-SIX

Baby Blue

Rapport I’s time wasn’t very different from Anesidora’s on that Wednesday, so Alden arrived at the school not long after nightfall. He appeared in the educational summonarium, with its map of the building, the arrivals board overhead, and the descriptions written on the floor beside the summoning areas.

The student benches along the wall of windows were empty, but Rel-art’h stood in front of them. The knight was in a gray uniform, his long black hair kept out of his face by the two jeweled clips he’d worn every time Alden had seen him so far.

“Hn’tyon Rel-art’h.”

Rel had given him permission to use casual address when they were both at the siblinghold, but not elsewhere. Alden thought the formal came more naturally in his case anyway. He’d almost worn one of his pezyvas, like social armor, but since the reason he was here tonight was to spend time with a big, drooly bisonvark he’d left both vests in the suitcase the Artonan was now looking at.

“Thank you for thinking of me before sending the bokabv back. Bokabvs.”

“You’re the reason I acquired them. The students have enjoyed having the mother animal on the grounds, and every year group took turns observing the new life today. Many have benefited. Do you need to carry your bags with you, or would you prefer to leave them here?”

“I’ll carry them.”

One of them likes me, and the other has my learning cushion in it.

“Do you want food or a drink?”

“No. I’ve brought some with me for later.”

“Will something else assist you with your study?”

Alden was reminded of the string of questions and instructions this man had hit him with before he left for his first visit to see Yenu-pezth. “I can’t think of anything else I need.”

Rel-art’h looked him over like he was trying to find something to fix, then said, “Come with me.”

Alden knew the way, but he wasn’t going to tell a knight how to host him. They left the summonarium and followed the same route he’d taken with Stuart on his previous two trips. This was a school night instead of a weekend, and there were students out in the large courtyard at the back of the main building. Three of them were standing with their arms outstretched toward each other, forming a triangle shape as they looked up at a fourth who was rising swiftly into the air.

That’s Quinyeth.

She was in a casual tunic instead of her votary garb, and her pale hair was down…although, down was technically up right now since it was leading the way into the sky like it had gotten the lift from the spell before the rest of her. She waved at a couple of people watching from the upper floors of the student house as she passed. There were lanterns in the courtyard, but she was swiftly moving beyond the reach of their light.

Rel-art’h paused to watch the students. Or he paused to watch Alden watching the students; Alden wasn’t sure which of them had stopped first.

Isn’t she going too high? Of course if she was, Rel-art’h would say something instead of letting her fall to her death. Right?

Alden wondered if she’d shared her honey or if she was keeping it beside her vanilla candle.

“She’s very high,” he said finally.

“Yes, they’ve done the spell well.”

Okay. It’s only me who’s worried about her going splat.

They left before the students noticed them, and they started down the long staircase set into the steep terrain, the steps ahead of them glowing to light their way and then fading behind them.

“Were you worried the students here would open your bag if you left it behind? Normally, I would defend their manners, but it’s so obviously from another world and so interestingly repaired that I think a few of the more curious ones might have been unable to resist if they found it. None of them would have damaged your belongings or the learning cushion my brother gave you, though.”

Alden stopped. Does he have x-ray vision? Did he read my mind? Oh shit, he does do something telepathic. What if…?

Rel-art’h looked back. “Are you coming?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t a confident yes, but his feet started moving again. “How do you…my learning cushion is in my bag. How did you know that?”

I use my learning cushion to study things that aren’t spell books. I don’t even know what spell books are. Science. Engaging with the Unexpected. Intro to Other Worlds. Boring, ordinary classes—

“Evul was teasing Stu about having a second human over every time you come, since the luggage is so large. He told us you take the cushion with you everywhere. Rather proudly.”

“Oh!” Thank you, God. I’m not good enough to avoid thinking wizard thoughts while I’m talking about my wizard cushion. “I don’t carry it everywhere, but I have been carrying it anywhere I think I might have plenty of time to study.”

“I’m glad you value my brother’s gift. I hope you also value the amount of time he finds to spend with you. I thought I was going to have to travel to LeafSong and use <<a kind of spell-resistant glue>> to stick him to his own cushion. He wanted to skip this evening’s special lecture when he found out you were coming here.”

Alden had texted Stuart to let him know Rel-art’h had invited him. “I do value his time. Very much.”

Did he bring it up because he had the impression that Alden didn’t?

“It is not my intention to suggest you do not.”

And now I’m back to thinking he’s reading my mind!

[Hello? You’d tell me if all my secrets were flowing directly into Rel-art’h’s head, wouldn’t you?]

The text he sent to no one received a single word in reply: [Haha.]

She’s laughing at me. That means…I’m safe?

Laughing at his worries, about this at least, would be out of character.

“In the coming years, Stu will be busier. Once he’s settled onto his path, your lives will <<diverge>> more. That was my meaning.”

“They’re already so different nobody takes either of us seriously when we say we’re friends. Soon-friends.”

Rel-art’h’s steps slowed. “I believe most members of our family now understand that Stu’s wanting of a friendship with you is very serious to him. If they also have concerns about the difficulties of such a friendship, those are their feelings to manage. Not something you or my brother should consider much.”

Alden was surprised to hear him say that. He’d assumed Rel-art’h would be someone who thought a wizard and Avowed being friends was too impractical. He’d been the one to ask Stuart about whether he’d had Alden swear to Privacy of the House…which didn’t mean anything, now that Alden reconsidered it, except that Rel-art’h was someone used to making sure others had their business in order, and he was familiar enough with Stuart to know he might not have treated the human visitor the way everyone else thought he should have.

He isn’t exactly saying he approves, though. More like, don’t worry about what’s going on in other peoples’ heads when you’ve got your own thing happening. Maybe?

Alden liked that advice, so he was going to take it that way.

“It’s unfortunate you overheard some of our parents discussing the relationship you two are developing as if it might exist for their advantage.”

“You know about that!”

Rel-art’h sighed. “Stu warned me not to join in plots against you when I spoke to him this afternoon. So I asked him why he thought there were any plots against you.”

That’s one way to handle it, Stuart. Just directly tell any family member that’s going to spend more than a couple of minutes alone with me that you suspect them of plotting.

“I would ask you to excuse the one who suggested the idea, but I can’t think of any reason why you should.”

“I’m not sure which of your parents suggested using me to change Stu’s mind,” Alden said cautiously. “I didn’t recognize their voice. But I understand they’re all trying to take care of him in their way.”

“Their way shouldn’t involve a young guest, an alien, or a person whose healing we’ve helped to arrange. And it was Aymeg who wanted to manipulate you, according to Stu. He has likely been persuaded toward more moderate behavior by the others since then.”

Rel-art’h paused on the next step and pointed up at the sky. The night was clear and full of stars.

“Does your culture observe stars as constellations? I’ve heard humans do.”

Alden stopped beside him. “We do. I know how to identify some on Earth. As individual pictures, though. Not a skystory.”

“One of the skystories from this part of the world starts with that red star. It’s the first spark of fire made by the first wizard. She’s on her hands and knees beside it. And from there, the story is told in this shape.” His finger wove through the air. “About how she almost burned her home forest down and had to learn to be careful with her power. And then, starting from over there is the second story, about how she persuades the people of the forest to trust her again so that she can help them with her magic. I’ll send them to you. If you’re visiting us, you may enjoy learning to read our sky.”

“Do you think Stu can persuade your family to trust him? If he keeps trying.”

The man’s brows rose, and he regarded Alden until Alden found himself resisting an urge to drop his gaze.

“I was trying to guide you away from the realm of our family’s togetherlife by changing the subject. I didn’t expect you to hear a metaphor in my description of the second story.”

“Sorry. It sounded like…” Alden did look away. “The bokabvs are over there. I’ll just head in that direction.”

“Stu speaks as though he has no doubts, doesn’t he?”

Alden turned back to find Rel’s expression a little sadder.

“I don’t think he has any,” said Alden.

“You haven’t known him very long. Or you see only half his truth. He has no doubts about what he wants, but he does doubt his ability to face it. It might be our fault. He built strength while we weren’t watching. Perhaps it was real, and it was enough. But when he showed it to us for the first time, we told him it wasn’t. And he hasn’t been without doubt since then. No matter how much he refuses to acknowledge it.”

“Then why are you all still…why don’t you support him now?”

Anger was stirring. He tamped it down.

“He’ll die.” Rel-art’h didn’t say it with any anger of his own. “You ask questions you can’t understand the answers to. I give them to you because it’s all right if you repeat them to Stu. It doesn’t matter that it was the people he trusts the most who weakened his confidence. What matters is that it is weakened, and we can’t repair it for him. A loving lie is too fragile a <<patch>> for this, now that he’s heard the truth. He has to find some way to shed his own doubt while enduring ours. If he can’t do that, and he chooses to go to his first binding anyway…that’s the outcome we must prevent.”

Alden’s heart was starting to race.

“You’re upset?”

“He deserves better,” Alden said.

Rel-art’h smiled faintly. “I’m afraid to ask whether you mean he deserves better circumstances or better relatives. Whichever it is, it’s fine for the one he weaves friendship with to think it. But don’t gnaw on it now. Let me turn your attention toward what you’ve come to see. The average lifespan of a bokabv is eighteen Artonan years. The calf will be mature when he’s around a year and a half old. In most herds…”

The lecture was more effective at taking the edge off Alden’s mood than he would have expected, even though most of it was information he’d already learned.

A few minutes later, they were both standing at the edge of the grass patch Stuart had grown for the animals. The interesting stick had been removed. Rel-art’h said it was bad for the calf and might make him bond improperly with his mother. Instead, waist-high wooden panels had been set up to keep the little bokabv in, which would also keep his mother where she belonged even if she was large enough to jump them.

Another instructor had cast a spell to concentrate the moon and starlight that fell on this area, solely for Alden’s benefit. And a knight was explaining animal behavior to him so that he could safely enter the temporary pasture if he wanted.

Bokabvs were active whenever they felt like it, not taking Artonan days and nights into consideration. They were both lively right now. Alden was having a hard time catching more than a partial view of the calf since he was under his mother, and they were standing in a mostly untrampled and uneaten area.

She’d coated her offspring throughly with her bioluminescent saliva. He was a glowy little guy.

“How long can I spend here?” Alden asked.

Turning his thoughts from what Rel had said about Stuart to bisonvarks wasn’t going to be an immediate shift.

“The herd keeper expects them to be sent back tomorrow morning. If you think you need more time than that for your mind healing, I can arrange for you to meet another animal.”

Alden shook his head. “No. That’s plenty of time.”

“I’ll be in my office for a while,” said the knight. “You should call if you have any questions or needs. Use the summonarium to travel to the siblinghold when you’re ready.”

“I will. I appreciate the efforts you’ve made for me. Before you go…I do have a question. About demons. I already know, I think, but I wanted to ask anyway.”

Rel-art’h nodded. “Ask.”

“They should be treated the way a person would treat any other living creature, shouldn’t they? An equally dangerous one.” Alden took a breath. “They can feel pain, they can struggle for their lives, and they can be afraid. Some of them. I know they’re not all the same. But if it’s like that, and you treat them like something less…real…because of the chaos…that’s not right.”

“You’ve asked me a question that’s best answered by yourself,” Rel-art’h said after a moment. “I have killed few demons. My skill is for communication and assisting others. I have felt empathy for the things I’ve killed. Others who kill more sometimes protect themselves by feeling less. I understand them, too.”

I see. It’s personal and situational. “That makes sense.”

“Call if you want anything.”

Alden waited until the knight was on the stairs again before he climbed over the fencing and took his seat on the ground. Approaching would make the mother bokabv nervous, but Rel-art’h had said the calf was curious and would eventually come over to see a newcomer on its own if they weren’t too loud and active.

With grass higher than his head, Alden couldn’t see much. He waited, listening to the soft bleating noise the mother was making, almost like she was muttering to her baby, and the occasional thump of the heavy animal taking a step.

The night smelled like grass and funky herdcreature. Alden waited almost half an hour for acknowledgment, but he had a lot on his mind, and it didn’t feel so long. And the acknowledgment, when it came, was brilliant.

A baby bokabv barreled out of the grass right in front of him, waving its snout like, “Wow! Company!” It smashed into him clumsily, then retreated like he was a scary monster who’d somehow forced it to fall all over him. It returned a minute later, only a tiny bit less excited than it had been on its first approach and ran back and forth in front of him, glowing blue with fresh slobber from its mother. It had generously wiped some of that on Alden’s chest when it hit him.

The little animal seemed to be about forty pounds of leg, snout, and enthusiasm. It ran at Alden again and then away before coming back, like it wanted him to play chase.

“I’m not going to do that,” he said, laughing. “Maybe there will be friends for you when you meet your herd tomorrow.”

The calf stopped and stared at him for a few seconds, as if the sound of his voice needed thinking about, and then it went right back to being thrilled it was alive.

Eventually, the mother bokabv came over to see what was occupying her calf, and since Alden had been instructed not to distress her in any way, he held perfectly still while she got him back for dodging her tongue on his last visit.

“You have a real baby now. Lick him. Look at him! He needs yo—yuck. Okay. Okay, this is fine. It’s probably…you have an unlimited supply of drool, don’t you?”

She left him alone when the calf came over for a drink, and he made a slow escape back over the fence.

“You two aren’t ever going to end up like that thing in my dreams,” he said after watching them for a while longer. “You’re not allowed to. You only get to be normal, happy bokabvs. Because I said so.”

He found the red star in the sky.

Because I want it. Because I feel like screaming it at the universe until the universe listens.

Maybe it wasn’t strange that wizards could do magic. Maybe it was strange that everyone else couldn’t.

Right now, Alden almost believed he could cast protection over these two simple, peaceful lives just by flinging his authority at reality and demanding that it be so.

He headed for the stairs instead, still hauling his suitcase. When he reached the school, the students had all gone in for the night, but Stuart was popping out of the door of the summonarium like he was in a hurry to get somewhere.

He halted at the sight of Alden, and his mouth opened.

“I’ve been visiting the bokabvs,” Alden said, when Stuart failed to speak.

“I would have known that even if no one told me.”

“Is it because my hair is sticking straight up and glowing?”

“That’s one reason.”

“Do you want to see them, too? The baby’s very glad to be here. It’s nice.”

******

******

Later, in the cottage that looked out over the stream full of zansees, Alden lathered his hair and rinsed it five times before it finally stopped feeling slimy.

When he got out of the bathroom, Stuart was sitting on the floor by the table, ready for their midnight snack.

“I thought I’d never get that stuff out of my hair. Sorry it took so long.” Alden plopped down onto the cushion across the table from him.

“I want this yellow thing first.”

“That’s pineapple salsa. And you may taste everything in whatever order you like. Let me name them all for you.” Alden plucked a corn chip out of the separate bag they were stored in. “Tortilla chip.”

“Tortilla chip,” said Stuart.

“It’s salty and crunchy.” Alden pointed the chip at the meal prep container in front of them. “Pineapple salsa. Guacamole. Beans—don’t send one through the walls with your spell. They’re smoky and spicy. I don’t know if you like spicy. And this is nacho cheese, but it’s not really cheese. She makes it out of a bunch of different things. And this beautiful sweet bread over here is our cinnamon roll.”

“Cinnamon roll.” Stuart leaned over it. “It smells good.”

“It is good. It is.”

Alden’s mouth was watering. Stuart was watching the tortilla chip with great interest.

“I brought enough for us to do this twice,” Alden said. “Once tonight and once in the morning.”

He grinned. “If we damage the pleasure centers in our brain, like someone once suggested eating too much Cook of the Moment food might do to me… it’s fine. Because we’re both going to see Healer Yenu tomorrow. She can just repair us.”

Stuart returned his smile. “That’s a good plan.”

“Isn’t it? Come on. Let’s eat.”

TWO HUNDRED FORTY-SEVEN

A Pounce

The sun still hid its warmth below the horizon when Stu left the cottage and headed toward the main house. He hadn’t slept enough, but he wanted some things from his room. And because Alden was visiting, he preferred to give up a small amount of rest in exchange for avoiding many of the family members who were currently in their beds.

One problem with doing anything unusual in such a large household was that answering everyone’s curiosity could be a day’s labor. Knowing a human was physically present among them filled his relatives with questions.

Some of them were actually warnings and criticism wearing the skin of questions. Those were bad. It was hard not to be overwhelmed when someone he loved said something he thought was ignorant and wrong-hearted.

Mostly, thankfully, the things they asked weren’t like that.

Was the human comfortable in this or that way? Had Stu chosen new clothes for him, or was that his own idea? What did he think of the Rapport, of wizards, of Artonans, knights, flatseed candy, toilets, the ryeh-b’t, and contract magic?

Was Stu going to make sure he had a nice job with someone trustworthy? Maybe the lab at DawnStep? Maybe a crafter of potions in one of the Rapports?

What did the two of them even talk about when they were alone together?

Stu wasn’t upset by questions like those. Much. If someone else had come home with an alien they wanted to befriend, he imagined he would have been curious, too.

But he’d come to realize that every question was basically about the same thing, whether the asker meant well or not.

Alden is very different from you and us. Here’s one way and another and another.

The differences were present, but Stu was used to being very different from everyone he’d ever wanted to be friends with. And their similarities were so many he marveled at them. When it was only the two of them spending time together, a lot more was going on than one of them being a wizard and the other being an Avowed. Stu had occasionally been surprised when Alden brought that point into whatever they were doing.

And some of the differences between their species were fun to discover and laugh about, now that they knew each other better.

Alden really needed to quit eating things without checking what they were first, though.

He’s thoughtful. And brave. He is compassionate. And he demands much of himself. He likes my company. He made a video flapping his arms to tease me about gokoratches. He shares rolls made of a bark spice called cinnamon and tells me about making them with his mother when he was young.

These things were so treasurable, and so much more important than Alden being from another planet, that Stu didn’t want all the questions about differences to intrude on him when they’d woven friendship peacefully last night.

He did want his learning cushion and clean school clothes, though, so he slipped into the house and hurried for his room. He fetched everything, released some fresh beetles into Other Alden’s room, then went down the hall to make sure that Emban hadn’t come back.

Her whole squad was supposed sleeping over at one member’s house in Root. Hopefully they were listening to advice from their elders while they made new plans for next year. A suggestion that they welcome a knight from the second Rapport had left Emban looking lost when she heard it, even though it was an expected idea and not entirely related to Ryada-bess taking time away from them.

She’s still gone, he thought as he approached her door and carefully reached out, looking for her presence.

If Stu had been born here under the tree that all his siblings had been born under, and if he’d taken his first steps in these halls instead of by that river, would he have been more compatible with Emban?

Who might he have grown closer to after declaring, and what would it be like to go to them, very soon now, and ask them to watch him cast his last spell as an unbound wizard?

This is the kind of wondering you do when you’ve hung upside down for too long.

A child of Jeneth and Iella born under this tree would simply be someone who wasn’t him.

And there was a chance he’d be invited to witness some last spells from old schoolmates this weekend. Asay, Meer, and a couple of others were going to do that with one another after they left the Welcome End celebration. It was one of those things Stu had tried to tell himself he didn’t want to find out about, even though he’d kept his ears open for information every time he’d been over at the school caring for the bokabv.

He wanted them to invite him. It wouldn’t take too long, so even if Alden was over it would be fine for Stu to go. And Asay would surely invite Quinyeth, so…they might remember another person who they believed should be a votary.

The dining room was empty when he passed through it. All the personal closets had been dealt with, and the annual evaluation and repair project had moved downstairs to the supply library.

Stu planned to fetch a bitter tea that he thought might taste like coffee, based on Alden’s description of that human drink. As soon as he entered the kitchen, he saw that someone else had been here. They weren’t around now, but they’d pulled out the cured sebaba haunch that had been stored at the back of the cold pantry for years.

Why would they do a thing like this?  The haunch was bigger than Stu was. It had a chunk taken from it, and it hung from a carving loop. I guess we’re eating sebaba meat for the next few days.

“Your enthusiasm shouldn’t be that low when you haven’t even braved your first bite,” someone said.

“Jozz! You’re home!”

The kitchen wasn’t empty after all. Stu had just missed the man standing at the counter a few steps away, pinching small pieces from the meat on his plate and dragging each one through sap sauce.

“Hello, Sina Stu. Don’t blame me too much for the sebaba. Veln told Kofa we liked it and were just saving it for a special occasion, so now Kofa thinks it’s an appropriate Welcome End gift. He sent me a message asking me to take it to the Rapport school or DawnStep with his well-wishes. My oaths as a knight prevent me from doing that to people who are about to face first binding. We’ll have to end the beast ourselves.”

“How is it?”

“I can taste why our ancestors only hunted them as a last resort.”

Jozz’s smile was a familiar one. His facial features were so much like their father’s and like Sina’s, who’d been his full sister by blood in addition to love and only a year younger. Stu had once regretted that he didn’t look more like them. He still did at times, but getting older had made it a less frequent thought.

“Your subtlety spell is excellent,” Stu said. “I didn’t know you were here, and now that you’ve called my notice, it seems that all is normal.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It would be embarrassing for someone who just requested a test for the third illusion symbol to be caught by a sleepy little brother who wasn’t even trying.”

“The third already! Congratulations, Jozz.”

With a third symbol of illusion on his coat, he’d have completed the practical requirements to graduate from the university. It was later than he would have finished if he hadn’t become a knight but very quickly considering how much time he’d spent away over the past years.

“Don’t be too excited for me. I’ve put off every useless requirement I could, and now I have to spend the next half a year attending classes I don’t like before I earn the diploma.”

The next half year. He’s planning to be home for a while then. Stu focused on him, reaching out to sense him.

“You’re home because you need to bind again,” he said.

“Yes. I’m not slowing down even a little. I’ve told myself how I feel about that, but I just don’t listen. Also, poke me when you do that. How am I supposed to say hello when I don’t know you’ve drawn close?”

Jozz, like many members of their family, was an existence who wasn’t naturally aware of anything going on beyond his own spot. He had to make a deliberate effort to perceive the nonphysical world around him. It was the opposite of Stu’s own sensitivity, which sometimes led him to limit his perception.

This difference had resulted in a family training period years ago, after Stu had begun to feel at home at the siblinghold. No tiny whispers of greeting from him toward people who couldn’t hear those, and no authority embraces from them that struck him out of nowhere. The ones who were mutually unable to recognize a subtle approach were used to pouncing on each other like that.

Stu embraced his brother’s existence. Jozz nodded and returned it.

They weren’t very good together in this way. They hadn’t been since Sina had died. Stu didn’t want to know why. He did want to be as comfortable with this brother’s authority as he once had been. He thought Jozz felt the same because he never pulled away first.

“That was a pounce,” he told Jozz when he withdrew.

“I can tell when I’m watching for it, you know,” Jozz said. He hadn’t stopped eating.

“How was Goldbush?” Stu asked.

Jozz grunted. “Festering.”

“You didn’t clear your patch?”  He was surprised, but he tried not to sound like he was.

Goldbush had been one of the main planets young knights were sent to for the past three years. Jozz had been certain when he’d left home for this latest trip that he’d be able to see the corrupted patch he’d been assigned to two years ago finally stabilized.

“We were so close. We were talking about finishing early and showing up to surprise the squads clearing another area. Someone must have become complacent and let a bad one slip through.”

“I’m sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine. The next group will get to enjoy seeing it finished. Unless our elders really are sabotaging us on purpose because it’s such a convenient training world. I met someone who actually thought that.”

“At least you’re home in time for Father’s call. He’ll be so happy to hear about your third symbol.”

“I’d better not fail the exam.”

“You wouldn’t have asked for the exam if you thought you might fail.”

Jozz liked to be over prepared.

“Enough about my school. Am I keeping you from yours? Are you well at LeafSong these days?” His pink eyes were looking at the uniform and the learning cushion.

Stu hadn’t seen Jozz since Alden started coming for visits. And Alden…

The painting. He’ll be excited to meet him.

“I’ve got time before I have to go,” Stu said. “I was going to contemplate in the streamview cottage and have first meal with my soon-friend. Alden stays there when he’s visiting. He’s my guest. Did you hear everything about that? And Jozz, he’ll be pleased to meet you because he was moved by your—”

“The human boy Aunt Alis honored and spent a favor for?” Jozz set the pinch of meat he’d taken back down. “He’s here now?”

“Yes,” Stu said. “And I’m weaving a friendship with him that I hope will last for our lifetimes. He’d like to meet you. I think he admires you.”

Jozz made a short hiss. It was only a sound of mild disapproval, but it struck Stu somewhere in his stomach and sent an ache of warning through him before the next blow.

“An alien who’s contractually obligated to serve wizards can’t be your friend. Not the kind of friend you want, at least. He’s not your peer.” Jozz shook his head. “You’re avoiding your actual peers, or being avoided by them, because they can’t agree with you. And you’re avoiding friendship with the people you’ve met at LeafSong because you can’t agree with them. I know it must be hard, Stu, but it will pass. And when it does, you’ll regret having tattooed yourself with someone who won’t even understand…are you running away?”

“This is walking,” Stu said, keeping a shrill out of his voice.

“Oh, rot. Stu! I’m just trying to advise you!”

“Try listening instead of advising next time! Wouldn’t that be a unique experiment!?”

“Stu. I’ll listen. The human—”

“Alden!”

“Alden…that makes me think of your other Alden, which is weird. Please turn around, and don’t make me chase you like I’m a child. Alden admires me? Why? I’m sure I admire him, too, if you and Aunt Alis do. That doesn’t mean I think you should be lifelong friends of the dearest sort, but of course, I’d be happy to meet him.”

Stu rounded on him.

“No!” He said it very shrilly. How shitty. “You can’t meet him!”

Jozz sighed. “I want to meet—”

“He’s my guest. You can’t. You can’t go to streamview cottage, and you can’t have a bite of cinnamon roll made by a Ryeh-b’t who imbues food with pleasurable magic. You can’t interrupt Alden’s studies and his preparations for Yenu-pezth, and you aren’t allowed to enjoy his company and hear how deeply he has considered your painting in the top library. Because he will sit there sincerely admiring your sacrifices, and you will sit there thinking about how odd I am for having him over. He…he deserves better than that.”

Stu stalked away.

“Don’t you think your response to this is too much?” Jozz called.

“I do not! Don’t bother my friend!”

******

******

“My little brothers are so cute.” As soon as Stu was outside, Evul stepped into the kitchen. “I regret not being around all the time when you were growing up. I’ll make up for the lost years by giving you loving lies now.”

“Let’s not so early in the morning.”

“My love for you lasts all day.” She hopped up to squat on the counter beside his plate.

“Are your feet clean?”

“They have the clean soil of our Mother world between their toes. Here we go with the love! You didn’t just hurt Baby Stu’s feelings by telling him something everyone else in the house has already tried to force on him until he screamed them down. He will forgive you quickly without expecting an apology. He doesn’t like Human Alden more than you right now. He will gladly share whatever food-drugs they’re playing with in their cottage. And telling adolescents they can’t have contract tattoos with their favorite fellow adolescents always works.” Her pink eyes held his. “Well..are you comforted?”

“Not at all.”

“I must need practice.”

Jozz cast one eye in the direction their youngest sibling had gone. “Is he all right?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the past few weeks,” Evul said. “He likes me.”

“Well done.”

“He talks to me. Or he did. I think he’s getting tired.”

“What does that mean?” Jozz asked.

“Just that he’s getting tired. We’ve all been fighting him for a long time. If he were a demon, I’d have listed him for capture so that his stamina could be studied.”

“Don’t call our family members demons. It’s obscene.”

“I said if. Your squads must go lighter on the jokes than mine do if you aren’t calling each other demons regularly. Our brother seems to be slowly wearing out. And maybe everyone else sees that as an opportunity, but I’ve realized that I don’t know what happens when Stu gets tired of fighting. We’ve never been here before, and I don’t think I like it. It’s all so far away from where it’s supposed to be. I was going to find you and tell you to let him have some air. I heard you came home late last night. I should have found you then, before you were mean to him.”

Jozz frowned. “He’ll be fine…I didn’t say anything new to him. Apparently.”

“You’re closer to his age. That makes whatever you say louder.” She lifted a hand and placed it on his shoulder. “Which is why, after hearing that your mission ended in failure and that you go soon to your torment, he responded by telling you that you were unworthy of speaking to Human Alden. Don’t you dare let your breath fall upon the cottage where he studies human things!”

“I did notice a certain harshness uncommon among votaries… ”

“He and Alden attempted to have someone beheaded a few days ago.”

“What?”

“A wizard made a nuisance of himself while Emban was trying to have fun with her squadmates at a Here-to-There. Stu and Alden fixed the problems the nuisance had caused, tucked all the knights safely back in the Rapport, and then went directly to an executioner to demand an aggressive response. Veln thought Stu would spend a week immersing himself in legal processes and considering options, thus gaining confidence as a young wizard and a votary. But Stu had Alden watching the nuisance wizard for crimes all along, and so as soon as he nuisanced, they had plenty of evidence and they dragged him to the nearest person with a ring of death. Veln seems surprised…but proud.”

“Something about this story sounds untrue,” Jozz said slowly. “But I don’t know enough to argue with you.”

“Watch your back. They’re thirsty for blood.”

TWO HUNDRED FORTY-EIGHT

The Lucky 57

Something was wrong with Stuart.

Alden suspected it soon after he woke up. The Artonan boy had gotten dressed in his LeafSong uniform and put their learning cushions side by side in front of the window, like he hoped they would have time to talk or study together there. And he was kneeling on his now, but he was just looking down at his hands, watching his auriad slide through his fingers.

He seemed absent. That alone was odd for him. And his smile after he realized Alden was awake was fleeting.

When Alden asked him to come over and warm up their meal, he just did it instead of talking to himself at length about the precise temperatures that would make everything closer to perfection. As he watched Stuart perfunctorily aim a heating spell at different components of their breakfast, Alden was ill at ease.

Giving excessive attention to the minutiae of certain things they did together was part of how Stuart enjoyed himself. Alden had recognized that, but he hadn’t realized he’d begun to develop a sense of which activities they were going to be fussy about until just now. This morning’s cinnamon roll was the right temperature, and it tasted like pastry glory. But the first bite of it was weak compared to last night’s, when Stuart had been telling him about his favorite bark spices from different planets and asking if they should call Natalie to get her opinion on whether the frosting ought to be left fluffy or allowed to melt a little.

Maybe we’ve just exhausted all the minutiae about this.

He didn’t believe it. This moment wasn’t going right. Stuart had been relaxed last night, and now they were having a quiet breakfast without anyone around to interrupt them. If Stuart didn’t have anything left to say about the food, he should be asking Alden about the company that made the container it had been packed in, or he should pull out a set of century-old enchanted chopsticks he’d gone to fetch because he had ideas about how they might be the correct utensils for placing things on top of corn chips.

“I meant to bring tea,” Stuart said suddenly, looking at the glasses of water Alden had put on the table for them. “I think we have one kind in the kitchen that might taste like coffee.”

Alden perked up. Coffee had been mentioned last night.

“I forgot it,” Stuart said, drooping even more.

Alden jumped up. The cabinet against the wall to his right was the one full of convenient provisions for guests staying in this cottage.  “There were some teas in here, weren’t there?”

He opened the two wooden doors at the top. The throwaway magic jewelry jingled on its pegs. The dried tea ingredients were in bottles on a shelf inside.

“Not the right kind.”

“But I was curious about them! Do you like any of these types?” He brought all the bottles over and set them in front of Stuart. “Tell me about them.”

I have supplied you with herbs you would normally enjoy explaining to me. Be happy again.

It worked about as well as trying to distract a person from their funk with a novelty could be expected to. Stuart seemed more like himself when he was talking about what the teas were and sniffing them all with Alden. Alden even threw Zeridee-und’h upon the altar of entertainment for him by describing how confused he still was that she’d made so many cups of tea for him to choose from while the island was flooding.

Stuart nodded at that and agreed that it was funny of her. But then first meal was over, and when he said he had to teleport to school, he was wearing an expression that only made sense if he expected to be fed to those creepy plants that ate the klerms upon arrival.

What happened while I slept? Did someone from LeafSong send him bad news or something?

“You look like you expect to be fed to the plants that eat the klerms,” Alden said, still sitting on the floor by the table while he watched Stuart collect his school supplies and check his pockets.

No response.

“A klerm was the first living thing I held with my skill. Did I ever tell you that?”

That worked. A pouch disappeared into one of Stuart’s pockets, and he looked over.

“It was?”

“I was summoned so fast I hadn’t had time to try it on Earth. So Bti-qwol handed me one of those plants with a klerm stuck inside. She was a sixth year, and managing the Avowed during your exams was a special project for her. I walked around with it for a while, and then...” Skip that part. “Do they really make a lot of noise? The one I carried was quiet.”

“They’re loud,” said Stuart. “Mostly in summer. At night. Right now the campus is surrounded by them.”

“The klerms know of my amazing power. So it must be me they’re talking about every night.”

Stuart raised both eyebrows at him. “What were they talking about during all the summers before they met you?”

“Boring people. I’ve raised the importance of their conversations toward the sky.”

Stuart’s chortle was a relief. He finished getting ready to go, and then walked over to the table, where Alden had started setting up his tablet for his own schoolwork. After a brief moment of what looked like doubt, Stuart took a thin study journal with a pale purple cover from his bag.

“I don’t want to distract you from your studies, but if you have extra time…” He held it toward Alden, who was already reaching to receive it.

“Is this the one filled with your thoughts on friendship and friendship oaths? So fast! You only promised it to me a few days ago.”

“It’s just a few pages. I thought you should read them to make sure I’m explaining things well across cultures before I write more.”

Alden traced a finger down the squiggly silver line and the mysterious spiky blob symbol. It was exactly the same cover as the others Stuart had made.

“Thank you. I look forward to reading it, and I didn’t even have to sneak it out of the top library.”

He hadn’t figured out if he was more curious or anxious about the contents before Stuart was sliding open the cottage door. For a while, he stood there, facing the forest outside. Then, he turned back.

“What happened to the klerm?”

He caught that? Did I make a face when I skipped over it?

“Hmmm…well…”

Stuart didn’t look like he was in a hurry to hear an answer or depart. He just waited, all in black except for a couple of rings on one hand and a strand of gleaming red-orange ear jewelry he was wearing because it was a gift from Emban. He thought his cousin might like to see him enjoying it if she called.

“Bti-qwol said to kill it,” Alden admitted. “Because they’re pests that make a disagreeable racket. I wanted to let it go, but I was too nervous to argue with her. I handed the plant to her, and she stabbed it. You know how I love meatpetal, and meatpetal is a carnivorous plant, too…so it’s probably crazy that I still feel sorry about that one particular klerm. But I do.”

“Why did you leave that out?” He was giving Alden one of his signature stares. “Because you thought I would think badly of you?”

“Of course not. I’ve told you worse things. I was trying to make you feel better. You seem stressed this morning. I didn’t want to say ‘and then the klerm died’ while I was trying to help your stress. Only now I’ve done that anyway. Is there any chance that dead klerms are a positive thought for you? They are part of the outdoor decorations at LeafSong, so...”

“I do walk past many plants consuming them this time of year. I don’t find that at all <<cheering>>, but I also don’t consider it much.”

“That’s best. Don’t add this one to your contemplations.”

Stuart’s head was tilted.

“It was just a klerm,” said Alden. “I hope you have a good day at school.”

******

Olorn-art’h’s earring waited on the corner of the table. It was going to be the ideal tool to keep Alden’s mind on task this morning even though he was worried about Stuart. There were some steps he needed to take to set himself up for success with it, though.

When he was learning spells, simply opening Whan-tel’s Art and starting to read was great. Becoming fascinated with every detail and spending a whole study session on a single page was good for him. He was sure it was helping him glean as much foundational theory as possible from the book, and that was something he wasn’t going to outgrow the need for anytime soon.

However, when it came to preparing for his finals next week, accessing the textbooks while he was wearing the earring was a terrible idea. He needed to cram in large quantities of information here, not go deep and get really passionate about what was written on each page.

That’s a shame, but it can’t be helped now.

The idea was for him to pass the remedial science class and Intro to Other Worlds even though the timing of his acceptance meant he’d missed the first half of the quarter. Artonan Conversation was already in the bag, and Engaging with the Unexpected’s final was going to be a series of essay questions he wouldn’t have trouble with. MPE would be a short test on gym rules and basic laws for power use that nobody should fail when they took it on Monday at the start of class.

So it was just the two exams to worry about. He’d gone to the science course’s resource page to get the finals from previous terms, and he’d reformatted those into a study guide that didn’t have anything exciting enough on it to trip him up while he had the earring on. And he was taking Vandy’s study guide for Intro to Other Worlds and cutting it down to half the size.

“Have I told you I like my hands?” he asked the empty room. He dashed his stylus across his tablet, marking a final paragraph Vandy had included for deletion. “I notice it at the most random times. Look at these lines I’m drawing. They’re coming out so straight without me even trying.”

When he finished rectangling around the paragraph, he had a moment before it disappeared to appreciate that it looked like he’d stenciled it instead of free-handing it.

[I’m glad you’re appreciating yourself,] she replied.

“I can do this now, too.” He lifted the stylus with his thumb, index and middle fingers and started spinning it, increasing the speed until it was a silver blur. “The guy who made the pen spinning tutorial I watched last weekend was amazing. And he had way more tricks.”

Alden switched to a two-finger twirl, then walked the stylus back and forth between his knuckles.

“But he was talking about how much practice it took, and how tough some of it was with unbalanced pens.”

He moved his wrist up and down, and slowed the spin so he could imagine where the ends of something longer than the stylus would be.

“I didn’t have to try for long before the ones I was interested in started to click.”

He wondered if the pen guy resented superhumans taking up his hobby. Some people did. Alden understood it. Keeping your eyes on your own progress was a healthier way to approach things, but it was harder.

“It’s still not as flawless as I pictured it being,” he continued. “It’s hard to go as fast as I want without having split seconds when the stylus isn’t actually touching my hand. That’s fine for a person whose goal is to spin pens. It’s not fine for me.”

Alden got a lot of incidental hand dexterity training because of his auriad, but he hadn’t gone at it hard purely for the sake of his skill yet. Learning to preserve things without physically holding them was one goal, but getting better at the way the skill already worked was a valuable thing to pursue, too.

He spun the stylus as fast as he could and felt it slip an instant before it shot across the cottage. It flew into the sheer curtain that could be used to separate the bedroom from the table area. The curtain slowed its fall, and the implement hit the floor right beside the bed.

“I need to master the hands,” he said, getting up.

He collected the stylus from where it had landed, then glanced back toward the table. The study journal was on the edge of it. He’d read just enough of the first page to know he’d get little else done today if he went any farther. Stuart might not have written much yet, but he’d put so much brain power into each line that Alden was going to need to meet it with effort.

It opened with the words, “This is a study to be seen by only two people, and so I greet you, Alden. I look forward to sharing my thoughts here, though they may be flawed, and hearing your own. To begin, I wonder if you have ever considered how the people we spend our days with might be like the banks of a river? The water is guided by the land, and the land is carved by the water. In the same way, the ones who surround us guide our direction, and we change the shape of them, too.”

Alden was looking forward to the rest of it.

“I wish I could cheer him up,” he said, “but I don’t even know what happened to upset him…you won’t tell me, will you?”

[No.]

That’s fair.

“I shouldn’t have asked. If he wanted me to know, he would have told me himself.” He pulled his eyes away from the journal. “I think what Rel-art’h said last night worried me too much.”

That even though Stuart wanted to be confident in his ability to handle being a knight, he wasn’t…Alden wanted to argue against it. But now that he’d heard it, there was a tiny doubt in his own mind that he couldn’t shake.

“Having one hundred percent confidence is overrated, right? I felt more sure of myself before I became an Avowed than I have at any point since then.”

[Except for right in the middle of spell casting maybe,] he added by text.

Confidence in parts of yourself that had never been challenged probably wasn’t a bad thing…better than assuming you were stupid and incapable. But it wasn’t solid. Alden followed that thought like he was on the inward path.

“There’s untested confidence, and then there’s the kind you have because you’ve actually done something and learned what you’re capable of. The first type is really just a wish for yourself that feels like something true because you don’t know any better.”

Of course I wouldn’t freeze up if someone else was in danger. Of course I’ll be the bravest, most level-headed, least whiny person around if there’s ever an emergency. I would never waste time crying for myself in a vault when there was survival business to attend to and a recently-orphaned child to take care of. A guy who would do something like that sounds like more of a selfish wimp than me.

“After the wishful thinking took a beating, what was left must’ve been my real confidence. And how much of that was there? Not a lot. People sometimes describe high confidence as ‘towering’ in English. If I had a tower before, then now I have just a few bricks. A knee-high brick wall? So, I’ve got a lot of building to do. But at least I can make sure every brick is solid instead of an illusion… ”

He frowned. “There might be advice buried in here for me instead of Stuart. I don’t know what he needs to hear, or if Rel-art’h is even right about how he feels. But I know that it isn’t okay for them all to treat him like he failed at growing up just because he didn’t turn out like they were expecting.”

He fell backward onto the foot of the bed and switched to texting again. [I mean seriously…if they think he can’t make it, after everything he’s been through, knowing how hard he tries…if they think he can’t make it with years of preparation and with all of them beside him…then what would they think of my longterm chances?]

“I think I want someone to tell me a few bricks are enough to build any future with. As long as they’re real. Maybe he needs to hear that, too.”

She didn’t reply, but he hadn’t exactly wanted one. He watched sunlight creep across the triangular ceiling tiles for longer than he should have before getting back up and returning to the table.

He took a seat on one of the soft cushions and pressed the tip of the ceramic spiral to his earlobe until he felt it pierce through. Then, he closed his eyes and listened while the study guides were read aloud to him. Having the information delivered at a set speed was safer than reading and getting hung up on details.

Falling into a knowledge-absorbing trance was still so easy. He listened for about two and a half hours before taking the earring off. He examined it. It was developing a stain from the drop of blood it absorbed every time he put it on.

“I’m done studying for finals. Already.”

He was going to be so sad when the earring wore out.

“Hey. Do you think there’s enough fruit on Earth to persuade Olorn-art’h to give me another one of these?”

******

When Stuart came back that afternoon, Alden was sitting in one of the chairs outside. It was comfortable, sunny weather, and he’d already dressed respectfully for his meeting with Healer Yenu. He had his tablet in one hand, and a foot-long twig he’d taken from the forest floor was in the other. He’d smoothed it and wrapped the middle with cord. He’d been twirling it for so long his fingers were sore.

“What are you doing?” Stuart asked. He looked genuinely curious.

That’s more like his usual self!

“I’m learning to take advantage of my dexterity and finger speed,” said Alden. “I found a feature on the tablet for measuring. It can draw an image for me on the screen to show where the ends of the stick would be if it was different lengths. I’m trying to make it hit specific points. Like this.”

He twitched his fingers to make the stick point at Stuart.

“I was trying to move it really fast and have it end up pointing directly at your chest, but this shows me it would be going past your shoulder if it could extend that far. My sense for things like this could be very good, I think. But it’s currently not. I want to develop better control.”

Stuart thought for a minute. “If you could position your tripping string more quickly and accurately, you could have chosen to kill the demon in your nightmare instead of barely getting your weapon in front of it in time and injuring it.”

“I did think of that. And when I’m not spinning this stick, I’ve been thinking about this.” Alden set the tablet down and picked up the study journal from the arm of the chair. “I read everything you wrote. It’s great, Stuart.”

A small smile. “You liked it? Is it easy to understand what I mean? On page four, the story about the two leaders of the warring countries who swore to tell each other of nine dreams and nine griefs wasn’t going to lead to a suggestion that we have an agreement like that.” He came over to stand right in front of Alden. “I’d just started that part. I was going to use it as an example of how relationship oaths can develop over the course of years.”

“I did wonder where you were going with that since we aren’t commanding our armies to attack each other’s villages,” said Alden. “But I liked all of it. I knew I would. I liked your other study journals, too, remember? And I couldn’t even understand what those were about. This one’s going to be about how important the companions you go through life with are, and how you hope I might be one of yours. And you write so…honestly and bravely. And that doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Stuart held his hand out for the journal, and Alden passed it to him.

“I’m glad you like it! Would you like to know how it’s made?” Stuart asked, looking from his face to the cover and back. “There’s a spell for <<impressing>> signatures that we learn to modify when we start making our own journals. I used that to stamp the mark onto the front, and then I… ”

Alden listened to Stuart talk and show off all the study journal details, watching him grow more animated, and then when Stuart had finished, he said the next thing he knew he needed to say.

“There are some choices I have to make before I know what friendship oaths I could swear to you. Is that all right?”

Stuart had taken a seat in the chair beside him. “What kinds of choices? And of course we don’t have to rush. We shouldn’t. I’m enjoying learning about you.”

“I’m not even brave enough or honest enough to tell you what the choices are,” Alden said. “I’m sorry…I’m enjoying learning about you, too.”

Stuart laughed. Quite merrily.

Alden frowned. That’s not the right response. My stomach is in knots from admitting this much.

Stuart met his bafflement without an ounce of concern or distrust on his face. “Then it must not be something you need to share.”

Alden blinked. “I’m sure there are some things you might like to know that I haven’t told you yet.”

“I’d like to know many things about many people,” Stuart replied. “If it’s something I need to know, I believe you will tell me.”

“Don’t believe a thing like that just because! I want to be the best friend you’ve ever had, but I just admitted aloud that I’m not as brave and honest as you. I have secrets.”

Stuart’s smile faded. He was serious now.

Yes, that’s right, Alden thought nervously. I’m trying to tell you I’m hiding things that aren’t minor. And whatever you’re imagining…it isn’t big enough.

“I want to be the best friend you’ve ever had, too,” Stuart said solemnly. He started patting the study journal in a satisfied way, like he was ever so pleased with it. “You’ve either positioned my character too high or your own too low if you don’t think your bravery and honesty are enough for me.”

“No, I—”

“I’ve brought you something.”

While Alden was trying to figure out how his revelation that he was full of secrets had gone awry, Stuart took a wooden box from his school bag and pulled the top back. He thrust his hand inside quickly and then held his fist out. “Will you take this with your skill?”

Alden nodded. He felt a small, cool weight on his palm, and then Stuart’s hand drew back to reveal a frog-like creature with a shell protecting its back.

Alden stared at it.

“You…” he said quietly. “You brought me a klerm.”

“I rescued every one I saw from the carnivorous plants today. Fifty-seven. This was the last.”

Just an alien frog.

Just a tiny life held safe by his authority.

“We don’t know everything about your skill, but we know it protects,” said Stuart. “Haven’t you told me that’s your favorite thing about it? Kivb-ee lived because you held her. Zeridee-und’h lived because you held her. You held me once, though I was at my worst, and protected me from pain and further harm. The klerm you hold is exhausted from its attempts to escape a prolonged death. And yet…it’s now as safe as it has ever been. This is <<profound>>, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Alden’s chest was tightening. The emotions weren’t bad or unfamiliar, but they were a lot.

“I don’t think you owe what you have protected anything once you release it from your skill, but if you ever feel that you do, who could argue that it isn’t a reflection of yourself? If something like the klerm happens again, you already know you will say no. And if that isn’t enough, say it’s <<antithetical>> to your use of your skill. Or call me, and I’ll tell them so myself.”

“I can’t call the Primary’s son for the sake of klerms and laboratory animals.”

“You may call the Primary’s son for the sake of the most insignificant bacterium in the universe, if doing so is important to you. And… ”

Stuart hesitated for so long, after such an impassioned speech, that Alden finally looked up from his klerm.

“What is it?”

“The Primary’s son is sorry that he can’t help with some of the much more significant things you will care about. Kon repaired that wand so efficiently, using what sounded like a very old type of chant. And he’s young. And as strong as a human his age could be if I understand your ranks right. And…Olorn Mom gave him a gift she makes for our family’s knights, to provide them with a home comfort when they’re traveling. They take their favorite drinks and make them last a long time with those cups. She recently finished the last few for our younger knights, and she gave him one of theirs.”

Stuart swallowed and fidgeted. “While I was agonizing over various troubles in class today, it occurred to me that it all fits together best if that skill was specially made for working on the Sdyelis Branch. If you asked me to stop them from summoning him for that, I couldn’t.”

Alden’s thoughts blanked. Konstantin plus the massive unfinished spaceship that would be bound for the new major battlefield the Primary, Esh-erdi, and Lind-otta planned to be on…it wasn’t computing.

Stuart kept talking. “The oasis ship will be important, and Kon’s job would be important. The good thing about it being important is that they most likely asked Earth to arrange for that power to be given to an Avowed with the best potential and personality for the assignment. They would expect to oversee his skill development for years. Nobody wants to spend years teaching angry people or working in space with them if they don’t have to. It would make sense for him to be someone intelligent, easy to get along with, and willing to be away from home for long periods of time.”

An oasis ship. Not a battleship. A rest place near the battle. They’re trying to stick Porti-loth on it, too. And thousands of other people. It’s not small.

“Alden?”

“That describes Kon,” Alden said. “He is…he was…the word ‘was’ hurts there…he was planning to be a famous superhero. So he’s not someone who wanted to stay home. And he’s the most social person ever, so he’d find a way to fit in with a multi-species crew faster than almost anyone else I know. And his talents…are they mostly for repair, after all? The Sdyelis Branch is being built weird, so they don’t want to patch it however they can. They want it put back together as close to how it was originally made as possible. Using something similar to an old kind of magic. Is that it?”

“I don’t know, but that’s what I suspect. If I’m correct, he wouldn’t be the only person given that ability. There should be several others. Enough Avowed so that they don’t have to be onboard all the time and so that anyone who doesn’t develop well can be replaced.”

Alden looked down the slope toward the stream. And across it. He remembered Stuart staring off in this same direction on his first invited visit, while he considered Alden’s question about whether he would ever summon Alden without permission.

Currently, that same person was squirming in his seat like he expected Alden to yell at him.

“Are you worried I’m mad at you?”

“Yes. If you are, I will understand.”

“If I was mad at you for this, you shouldn’t understand. It would be unreasonable of me. It’s not your fault chaos is a problem. Or that some things about being an Avowed are very far from perfection. For example, it seems wrong that Kon doesn’t know this. Maybe it’s the Contract’s decision based off of what’s best for him, but unless someone explains why that’s necessary to me, I’m going to tell him as soon as I get confirmation.”

It was a couple of minutes before Stuart spoke again. “One of my brothers came home last night. I was excited when I met him in the kitchen this morning. I wanted to tell him about you, but I’d hardly started before he said a wizard and an Avowed couldn’t be friends. That was why I forgot the tea.”

“What’s the brother’s name?”

“Jozz,” Stuart said reluctantly.

Alden snorted. “The cool knight in the painting? That’s so disappointing. You should have told me he behaved like a gokoratch.”

“He doesn’t usually,” Stuart said. “I never thought so before today.”

He was still fidgeting.

“I’m going to ask Healer Yenu if she’ll let me think about confidence tonight on the inward path,” said Alden. “I had this thought about how the confidence I’m building now is realer than what I had before, and how it’s enough even if I don’t usually feel like it. If I sort my ideas well on the path, can I tell you about them?”

“Of course.”

Alden looked down at the klerm again, perfectly preserved in his hand.

“Do you want me to put it back?” Stuart was already reaching out with the wooden box as he asked.

“Not yet, my soon-friend. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever given me. And what you said made me feel the beauty of my skill, which is myself, and I…really appreciate that. So I’m going to hold it a little bit longer.”

They sat there after that, until they both knew the silence between them was more contentment than worry, and then as evening fell, they went together to see Yenu-pezth.

“You know,” said Stuart as they walked down the road to the House of Healing, past the Sdyelis Branch, “meatpetal is harvested from the wild. So it’s not hypocritical for you to enjoy it. When you eat it, you’re removing a carnivorous plant from the universe, not contributing to their cultivation, if that’s what you thought.”

“Is that true?”

“Do you think I would lie about a plant?”

“What a magnificent vegetable.”

“I had to stop Evul from sending you a live one.”

“Why?”

“She thought it would be funny.”

“I mean why did you stop her?”

“Have you ever seen a whole meatpetal?” Stuart asked. “The one she wanted to send you might have eaten you instead.”

TWO HUNDRED FORTY-NINE

Strong Bricks

Alden spent Friday morning sitting out in front of the cottage again, practicing his finger dexterity exercises while he tried to let his thoughts settle into their new, slightly different shapes. The ideas he’d examined on the inward path last night were clearer now than they would be later, and the wounds were still numb enough that he could think about them without getting too emotional.

Yenu-pezth had been willing to focus their discussion on confidence. He was sure he could have asked to talk about paint drying, and she would have found a way to make that helpful for him. This was a much more relevant topic.

He had been confident in ways he no longer was. He was becoming confident in new ways. The nightmares he’d chosen were a tool for gaining confidence by recognizing what he was capable of now that he was a little more powerful and experienced.

Sitting here, the question his brain wanted to mull over was one Rel-art’h had put in his head, though the knight couldn’t have known he was doing it when he was telling Alden that Stuart lacked the kind of confidence the family wanted him to have.

Don’t I lack it, too?

I’m not confident I’ll go bravely to my next binding and however many more there will be afterward. And I’m not confident that two or three things won’t fall on me at some point and make me loathe my affixation—my self—to a deadly degree. I’m definitely not confident I can do most of what knights seem to be supposed to do.

And it’s not like this is some new lack of confidence. I don’t remember feeling super sure I could handle these things on the day I chose to keep my authority sense either.

Does that mean I chose wrong?

By the art’hs’ standards, or by their standards for Stuart anyway, perhaps it did.

I’m a goner, I guess. Someone better plan my second funeral.

Alden set down the twig he’d been twirling.

Someone he didn’t recognize was walking along the stream with a bundle under their arm that was likely a change of clothes. The siblinghold had a heated outdoor bathing pool in that direction. Alden had glimpsed the edge of it through the trees once on a walk with Stuart, but even if he hadn’t, he could have guessed something like it was out there after seeing multiple people head that way and then return after an hour or two with wet hair.

Is that one a knight or not?

He couldn’t tell. The knight members of the family often wore their uniforms at home but not always.

If they are a knight, does that mean they were completely confident in their ability to live like they do now before they went to their first binding? Is that the expectation for everyone or only for the Primary’s favorite?

Or…only for people who have obvious disadvantages?

Like mind traps in their head. And painful childhoods. And being the wrong species.

I don’t think confidence like Rel-art’h talked about is necessary. Because I didn’t have it. I still don’t. And I don’t feel like I made a mistake when I said yes to keeping my authority sense.

If he was giving advice to a person in the exact same situation he’d been in when he’d chosen to keep the sense, as well as his memories of Thegund and Kibby, he would tell them…

That the choice I made was the less reasonable one. The more dangerous one. Not smart.

Affixation was worse than he could have imagined, and the complications that came with being what he was weren’t ones he wanted. He could see that he had, in some ways, been illogical.

But I was sure.

Not that he’d succeed. Not that he’d be happy. Just sure of a couple of solid bricks in his tiny confidence wall.

I wasn’t confident I could do it. I was just confident I wanted my memories and my magic.

Knowing what you want isn’t nothing. And wanting something you might not be capable of doing isn’t wrong, especially if you’ve got your eyes open to the realities of the situation and you’re not just imagining yourself to be much more perfect than you actually are.

Wanting something that might be too hard for you, knowing the risks, accepting them—that’s not a tower of confidence built on your illusions. It’s a few real bricks.

Surely, the point of the choosing season young Artonans had in the Rapports was to give them time to make those bricks.

And if Stuart’s got his made, then whatever happens…even if it costs his life…

His stomach twisted. Taking several slow, deep breaths didn’t untwist it.

Yeah. Okay. I understand why the whole family is losing their minds. The weird thing from an outsider’s perspective is actually that they don’t freak out and try to stop every one of their kids.

As for Alden’s own bricks, he’d found a few last night on the inward path that he doubted he would have recognized, or respected, without Healer Yenu’s prompting.

“I sent a message to Dalat-orni, who tutors the girl Kivb-ee, asking him if she has said anything to him about your time together.”

“Why did you do that?”

“For a perspective other than your own that might show me what you do not know about yourself. She has told him that you named her your instructor for language, that you make meals more creative and impressive than the ones she enjoys with the Quaternary, and that you are better than everyone other than her father at braiding hair.”

“I’m not that good.”

“Did you try to be that good for her?”

“Yes.”

“Was it hard?”

“A lot of the time.”

And he would do it again. He was confident that he would try to make bad situations better in small ways once he found himself stuck in them. A brave face, a wordchain, taping up signs to warn people that an ambassador’s residence wasn’t a place of refuge—he knew he was someone who could do that much. And he had significant evidence that he would do much harder things for some people he ended up in danger with. He hadn’t left Zeridee behind, and he was mentally stronger today than he had been then.

Feels all right to acknowledge that, he thought, as he stood and stretched.

His Earth day would start with a meeting he had scheduled with the volunteer coordinator at an Apex healing hospital. He needed to get ready for that.

A while later, before he left the cottage, he added a note to the study journal and set it on Stuart’s cushion:

“When we tell someone we’re going to build something, and they say it’s not possible, we should probably ask ourselves what they actually know about the project before we accept their opinion. Are they just counting the bricks we’re holding without respecting what they’re made of? And are they measuring how far we have left to go without seeing our determination to get there?

“This applies to brothers who say a friendship won’t work. And to lots of other things, I’m sure.

“That’s what I think after thinking all morning. See you tonight.”

He would trust Stuart to apply the thoughts to knighthood, in addition to friendship, if he wanted to.

******

******

Alden flew from Matadero to his interview in a drizzle that made the nonagon much less fun than usual. He hadn’t passed a single potential entruster on his way from the teleportation alcoves to the hangar, so he’d left the cube with only normal human amounts of rain protection instead of magical shielding. He’d thought keeping his shoes and socks in his messenger bag so that they didn’t get wet was the right call, but now, he’d been sitting in the volunteer coordinator’s warm office for several minutes wearing those dry shoes, and his feet still hadn’t thawed.

The coordinator was a woman in a navy blue polo shirt who had an office that was barely big enough for a desk and three chairs. She spoke to him mostly in Chinese, and she had the air of a pleasant person who was trying to get his business taken care of well but quickly.

After a couple of references to his course requirements for Instructor Marion’s class and mentions that he’d probably be doing all of his volunteering here at this branch of Anesidora’s healing hospital system since it was closest to campus, Alden realized he hadn’t communicated well enough in his application and when he first sat down here and introduced himself. There was no natural opening for him to correct it since the “interview” had been five questions before they’d moved straight into her explaining expectations for volunteers. So he awkwardly interrupted her flow to make the point that he was afraid had been missed.

“I want to be here,” he said, scooting even closer to the desk. “Seeing what kinds of jobs there are and learning how I could make a difference in this setting is important to me. It’s convenient that I have a class next quarter that gives credit for something like this, but I wanted to do this anyway. I don’t mind traveling down to F and the other hospitals. I hope you’ll let me. I hope I’ll be useful, and if I am useful, I don’t think I’ll just quit volunteering here for good once my class is over.”

The coordinator paused for about ten seconds, which seemed like a much longer period of time given the pace she’d been going at. She took a sip from a disposable cup rimmed with lipstick marks, her brown eyes darting around to check whatever she had on her interface.

<<Do you think you might be interested in a career in healthcare, then? You’re in the hero program at your school, so I assumed not. We do have a job shadowing agreement with Celena North, but students who want to do that need to be in pre-med sciences or have the Healer class.>>

“I don’t have to job shadow, just volunteering is fine with me. I don’t know for sure what career I want, even though I’m in the hero program, so I’m trying to explore options. I’m serious about doing my best at whatever you give me here.”

<<You’ll probably be surprised by how boring most of your volunteer hours are, even if I give you permission to volunteer through the System.>>

“Volunteer through the System?”

She picked up her cup again. <<We’re not a normal hospital, and we don’t serve a normal population. Some Avowed Healers don’t even do scheduled work. They just wander in when they’re in the mood to practice their talents. Most are better than that, but…we have a lot of powerful, irregular ways to help sick and injured people. The System does the bulk of our organizing and decision-making for us. Keeps things running smoothly.>>

“So if you give permission I can volunteer through the System, and it will decide what I do?” Alden asked.

<<Not quite. It would recommend you to staff members, and then they’d have to confirm.>>

“Can I volunteer that way?”

<<Usually I’d make someone your age work for a couple hundred hours before I considered it.>>

That sounded like a long time. “I think my skill might be easier to make use of if the System helps people understand when I can help.”

<<Some wizards work here. They have a tendency to accept the System’s recommendations even if the task is inappropriate for someone who isn’t used to a medical setting.>>

“I speak Artonan.”

She wasn’t swiftly rejecting him, and she’d brought up the possibility of letting him volunteer through the System in the first place. He didn’t know why she was considering it for him, but she seemed to be.

“I’ve used my skill on injured people before without freaking out,” he added. “I ET’d with a classmate recently. Whether I’m doing boring jobs or hard ones, I’ll try to be professional and learn from the experience. I won’t pester busy doctors or healers. I’ve helped dispose of dangerous and disgusting things in an alien lab before.”

She held up a hand. <<All right. I’ll take you seriously. Let me start this meeting over by telling you how volunteering will work if you do it that way. Avowed with powers that can be used in a medical capacity… >>

******

Not only did she take him seriously, she also issued him his own navy blue polo shirt and sent him on a practice run through the facility.

Go volunteer. Call if you have any questions. Wear this name badge at all times; not everyone has an interface. I’ll receive updates on everything you do, and I’ll read them, too, until I’m sure of you. I might send you some tips.

Alden ran through her instructions one last time while he checked himself in the mirror of the restroom he’d changed in. The name badge said “Alden Thorn” in small print beneath the nickname she’d given him. Pause Button Rabbit.

She said all volunteers got an informative nickname. He was allowed to change it if he could think of an equally succinct way to convey his skill to people who’d never heard of it before.

I look fine. “System, loop me in at Central Crescent Healing Hospital for sixty minutes.”

That was the official way to volunteer here in English. Later, he might be given permission for distance volunteering, which would enable the System to teleport him, but currently he had to be physically present at one of the locations he was authorized to help at.

He waited, tense, until he started to feel like that tension was wasted.

If people were dying here every couple of minutes for lack of one Pause Button Rabbit, it would be an incompetent hospital. I just need to calm down and walk around hoping someone wants me for something.

It was less structure than he’d been expecting, but having the System involved seemed like a good thing. After all, it knew what he could do. Although, that did bring to mind a wrinkle unique to him. He set off down a pale blue and white hall, reading signs and nameplates to get his bearings on the way to the elevator.

[System,] he typed, [when I’m volunteering, do you base the task recommendations on my real abilities or my fake profile?]

[The fake.]

Alden wondered if asking it to be a bit flexible on that, without getting him into trouble, would be a bad idea.

[You have gym in ninety-seven minutes.]

Alden read the words. [Thank you. That’s a helpful reminder.]

It was pointing out that volunteering to exhaust his skill right now didn’t even make sense. Which was decent of it.

He spent a while exploring and introducing himself to people who weren’t busy. Interface notices told him where he could and couldn’t go.

Central Crescent had a special emergency department in a separate building where the System ET’d patients who were too dangerous for other hospitals. Alden wouldn’t be going there. But he was allowed in the walk-in clinic, on most of the patient floors, in the cafeteria, and in the janitorial closets. The waiting rooms were also his territory.

A chat with a fellow polo-shirted volunteer who was in charge of the gift shop today gave him ideas for the kinds of things he could do when his magic wasn’t needed by anyone.

“There are always lonely patients who want to chat, and the nurses know who they are,” she said, while she cut the tape off of a cardboard box and opened it to reveal a stack of coloring books. “Nothing is ever as clean as it could be. And filling the hospitality carts with what people actually want to snack on or play with is the key to popularity.”

“Got it.”

“It takes a while for everyone who works here to get used to having you around and get familiar with what you can do well. If you find a chore that nobody else seems to want, and you do it regularly, it will become yours and people who you didn’t know appreciated it will notice when you stop.”

“Finding something nobody else is doing sounds difficult. But I’ll—I’m getting an assignment!” he exclaimed as the notice came across his interface.

The gift shop lady took a step back, startled by his increase in volume.

“I wasn’t sure I’d get to do anything.” Alden snatched his messenger bag off the counter. “But I’m going to the potion dispensary!”

“I’m glad for you?”

“Thank you!”

Nerves and excitement clashing, he rushed out. The System gave him directional arrows so that he didn’t get lost traveling down a couple of floors and turning left at an intersection of hallways. He approached a beige door that said Authorized Personnel Only, and when it swung open to admit him automatically he got a little thrill out of it.

I’m authorized for something.

White tile floors gave way to pale, surprisingly unvarnished wood. Tall, gray metal cabinets stood along both walls, their contents invisible. A man in a nurse’s scrubs was checking the label on a vial that had just dropped into one of the cubbies on the front of a cabinet.

He glanced at Alden but didn’t say anything as Alden followed directions toward a window that had been cut out of the wall in the middle of the hallway. There wasn’t much to see through the opening, just a wooden wall and a door that blended into it. But there were two people waiting in the window for him.

One was a man with a chiseled jaw and a large nose whose name tag said Dr. Abbasi—Healer/MD, and the other was an Artonan man in a long-sleeved white robe more similar to an angel costume than the lab coat of the doctor beside him.

“Look, Panna! Look how fast the volunteer came. Look who the Contract has sent us,” Dr. Abbasi said, in Artonan, as he swept his arm grandly toward Alden. “I recognize this young man. They say he has been commended. You have to agree he has a trustworthy dance.”

Trustworthy dance? Is that an expression I don’t know or did he mean some other word?

“His honorary title is ‘Pause Button’,” the doctor continued. “Doesn’t that sound next door to perfection? Go tell your wizard it will be educational for him to help her.”

The Artonan, Panna, had the same earthworm hair color as Ambassador Bash-nor, but his demeanor wasn’t similar at all. He was slouching under the doctor’s gaze and sighing like he was enduring something very exhausting. “She will not like having a volunteer.”

“No. She will. We’re helping her. Because I’m sure she didn’t mean to start a day-long project when she’s supposed to be in charge of our potions.”

“She did mean to. She had an idea of rare worth to test,” Panna muttered.

“She has so many of those, though. Isn’t she tired of them, yet?”

Panna sighed for so long it sounded like he’d sprung a leak. Doctor Abbasi turned to Alden, “Hello,” he said. “I asked the System if it could help me get our hospital’s extraordinary potion and medical device wizard to modify a potion for one of my patients. And it sent you. Is your nickname ‘Pause Button’ because you pause certain processes?”

I want to get whatever this is right. Alden tried to stand a little straighter. “I can preserve things and beings. I have to hold them, but when I do, I protect them from change. My skill does pause everything going on within a protective shield. It doesn’t have a specific connection to potions, though.”

Panna looked at the doctor. “That is useful. He can hold your patient until Master Ladda has finished testing her idea.”

The doctor gave him an incredulous look. “We’re not having him hold an adult man for ten hours when he can just hold whatever experiment she’s working on for ten minutes.”

“I have to go to school soon,” said Alden, wondering what would happen if he told Panna that after school he had to go to Rapport I. “If the Contract says I can do this, I’m sure I can. Should I put on my commendation so that I look more trustworthy and the Master of Potions won’t feel worried about leaving me with her important project? I have automatic embroidery patches in my bag. If that would help.”

The doctor gave him a few blinks. Panna, who Alden was assuming was the wizard’s ordinary class assistant based on the fact that he wore no embroidery of any kind on his angel robe, turned one eye to him and another toward the door.

“That is not necessary, Alden Ryeh-b’t,” he said. “I will convey your presence and the Healer’s request to Master Ladda-ser…who is a Master of Healing Objects for Humans. She is still working on being recognized for mastery of potions.”

He disappeared through the door.

The doctor beckoned Alden closer. “Don’t think that Ladda-ser is scary just because Panna-ser is hard to get past. She likes humans. It can be hard to tell because she’s extremely introverted. He keeps people from bothering her.”

Alden raised an eyebrow.

“She’s supposed to be bothered right now,” the doctor said. “She’s at work, and I brought her work only she can do. Are you new to volunteering with us? Your skill sounds interesting.”

“It’s my first hour volunteering,” Alden said. “I’m glad someone needed me.”

“You’ll get to use that skill on something cool, I think. She makes amazing things for us.”

Panna-ser reappeared and ushered Alden back into a workshop that was toasty and meticulously neat. Almost everything must have been tucked away in the drawers that covered the walls. There were several empty tables, and a woman with dull brown hair that matched her wizard garb was leaning over one. Her nose was very close to a human…doll…that was naked except for a clearish red blob sitting on its chest like a misplaced jellyfish.

The doll was an average-looking adult male. It was around eighteen inches long, which was the one thing keeping Alden from thinking it was a dead or unconscious body. Thankfully, its eyes were closed. The realism was uncanny.

The wizard didn’t let her attention flick away from the project at all. It was  Panna-ser who told Alden to pick up the doll, and the blob with it, without letting either be disturbed for a single instant.

Alden stepped over and eyed the model, settling on lifting it by its feet and head because grabbing it anywhere else seemed weird. As soon as he’d picked it up, Ladda-ser drew in a breath and titled her chin up to regard him. Briefly, she seemed like someone who was confused about why her toy had been taken away. Then, in a quiet voice, she said, “I am inventing an enchanted heart for humans to wear while theirs are being healed. It will stick to the chest. We have ones like these, but they don’t work for you. I will make them work for you.”

Alden looked at the jellyfish. Enchanted external heart? “Hyektch.”

“Please do not drop it.”

“I won’t.”

She looked from him to a chair across the room. He went to sit in it, even though she hadn’t actually said to, in case it made her feel better about leaving him alone with this thing she’d made.

After she left, the assistant stood guard over Alden like he could somehow prevent disaster just by being present. He explained that this device, if it worked, would be one that anyone could grab and slap onto the chest of a person whose heart had stopped, and its use wouldn’t be an impediment to other healing magic.

He also explained that the doll was a specially made medical research tool. “What else would it be?”

Alden refrained from replying, “A middle-aged dead guy you shrank with a spell.”

The specially made medical research tool had body hair, testicles, toenails…

About ten minutes after she’d left, Ladda-ser returned. She walked straight over to where she’d been standing and even leaned over in the same way, like she wanted everything to be exactly as it had been before the interruption.

Alden tried to put the doll back in precisely the right place on the table in front of her, thinking that would help her get back into the zone.

What she’s doing sounds important. Panna was already shooing him out of the workshop with one hand and gesturing for silence with the other. They’re an odd pair. But I got to help a researcher do research on an enchanted heart, even if it was only for a few minutes. Maybe because I helped, it becomes real one day.

The assistant was glad to get rid of him, the doctor was nowhere to be seen, and the System was telling him he wasn’t allowed in the dispensary anymore since he didn’t have business there. But Alden felt himself smiling as he left.

He knew he had preserved the strange doll as perfectly as anyone could, and that seemed to be what was needed.

Before he left the hospital, he found one more chore for himself by standing at an entrance and offering to dry peoples’ umbrellas with a quick application of his skill so that they wouldn’t have to shake water all over the place or stuff them into plastic bags.

Things I can do well. Strong bricks are strong bricks, even if they’re small.

CHAPTER 250

Rain on Anesidora

[...so I’m going to wait for the rain to stop before I fly to Matadero. Let me know if that’s a problem for scheduling the teleport. I’ll see you soon.]

Alden finished his message to Stuart. MPE was over, the building’s entryway was full of Alden’s classmates, and Haoyu and Heloísa had just unpackaged a lightweight tarp Alden had been keeping in the duffel bag of random objects he always brought to gym. The two of them were standing on either end of the tarp, flapping it up and down to fill it with air.

“Again!” Haoyu said. “We can get it more umbrella-shaped!”

“Puffier!” Heloísa agreed.

“I think Alden will need a handle, won’t he?” Njeri asked. “Shouldn’t you attach one to the center before you even try to make the top part of the umbrella?”

Jupiter was lying on the floor by a trophy case, folding a bag that had once held shrimp chips into a fan. “I can make a handle. There’s a vine I’ve been wanting to borrow.”

“Alden’s got a lot of duct tape,” Vandy informed everyone. She was going through the duffel bag. Still. He’d given them permission to search it for supplies, but she seemed to be spending more time with her head stuck in the bag than necessary for that task. “Alden, I’m tying these tape rolls together so that they aren’t scattered everywhere.”

“Don’t organize for me, Vandy. It’s meant to be a grab-bag of junk.”

The group of helpers was growing as others changed out of their unitards and joined them here. A short while ago, in the locker room, ‘Remember how Alden got into the program with an umbrella shield?’ had somehow turned into, ‘Alden, wouldn’t your skill work for just a few minutes if you recovered for a while?’ which had turned into ‘We all have to walk back to the dorms under a single giant umbrella for the class montage!’”

“An Object Shaper might be able to help make a better umbrella shape,” Alden said. The others seemed not to have noticed the Shaper in question had been trying to hint that he wanted to be asked for help ever since the creation of an oversized object was mentioned.

“I can!” he said as soon as the words were out of Alden’s mouth. He launched himself toward Haoyu and Heloísa with his hands raised.

“Didn’t you tell Klein you’d worn your shaping out with Fragment, though?” Haoyu asked.

“I can do enough for this.”

Alden was glad Fragment had had time to teach today. She’d recreated a section of a collapsed structure she’d helped with after the floods, and she’d gone through the process of removing it piece by piece, letting each of them accomplish bits of it in their own way while she gave advice.

Everyone had been more serious about it than the last rescue practice they’d had, and it had cooled the hotheads off more than anything else they’d done all week. Even though the S-ranks had been jabbing sore feelings by continually mentioning the info sessions and open tryouts Li Jean was having for the Elites program this weekend. Febri and Marsha had just left after talking each other into going straight back to the dorm to take sleep aids. They thought an early bedtime would give them an edge when they headed to the other school tomorrow to do whatever they were doing to try to prove their worth.

Those two were swimming in so much adrenaline that Alden was sure any sleep aid they could get wasn’t going to penetrate. And they were missing this class bonding experience. Even Winston was here. He was trying to tell Kon it wasn’t necessary for Kon to make a montage of his own without sounding like he was doing that. But there was no chance he wouldn’t be standing in whatever the premium spot for an umbrella group walk was and smiling for the cameras.

Thunder rumbled through the building.

Everly had her snowball drone out as she leaned against the wall between Alden and Tuyet. “Jeffy really does post everything that crosses his mind when he’s online. I’m looking at his account right now. ‘My mohawk always gets messed up in gym. Our whole class is going to walk under Alden’s giant umbrella together because there’s a storm. Alden works at the hospital now. I just finished using the hand dryer. The hand dryers in this school aren’t any stronger than hand dryers in regular bathrooms.’”

“Why would they be?” Tuyet asked.

Alden snorted.

“Alden works at a hospital?” Vandy asked.

“I volunteered at Central Crescent today.”

“Are you going to post about it?” Winston turned away from Kon to stare at him.

“I was planning on it, but it turns out they don’t treat birds, so I changed my mind.”

Winston gave him a blank look.

“That was a joke about my Trime account...”

Everly had the decency to giggle.

“One of Jeffy’s followers is suggesting we all pretend to fight the storm,” she said. “I don’t know how that would work. Maybe we could do something like a few people looking nervous under the umbrella, and then as more and more of us join the group we start to look braver?”

“Class unity!” Haoyu cheered. “Let’s do it!”

Alden had been about to protest that he didn’t want to turn this into a play, but if Haoyu was into it, he wouldn’t dampen it.

“I don’t want to look nervous unless the storm actually looks dangerous,” said Mehdi.

“I can be out there holding onto a lamppost!” Astrid said. “Acting like I’m about to blow away. And you can all pull me under the umbrella.”

“You’ll get wet,” said Everly.

“That makes it better, doesn’t it? Lexi can take off his uniform jacket and give it to me.”

“What?” Lexi had been waiting impatiently by the doors. He wasn’t such a spoilsport that he wouldn’t do a thing the whole class was doing together, but he did seem to want them to get a move on. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re the only person still wearing your uniform this late in the day. It’ll be like a sign of the class’s warmth welcoming me in from the cold. And having a job with a prop will make it so that you don’t have to really act.”

“Why do you think I can’t act?”

“Uh…” Astrid glanced away from him.

Kon jumped in. “He’s a good actor, Astrid. I’m better. But he’s decent. He just doesn’t bother to smile unless you specifically tell him it’s an acting job.”

“I should leave you all,” Lexi said. “And you’re not better than me.”

“Yes I am.”

“You’re not.”

“Believe what makes you happy. We can let Jeffy rip his shirt off for Astrid. I’ve already gotten him to reenact his literal shirt rip for the montage once, but that’s fine.”

“I could do it,” Winston said.

“I’ll do it,” said Haoyu. “I could make it just like ‘Jeffy got in.’ Like it’s spreading through the class.”

“I’ll rip mine off, too,” said Heloísa, laughing. “I’ll make that noise some of the guys do on Brutal Ring and act like it’s actually hard for me to tear the fabric. Raaaaaaahahaha! Lucille can do it with me. Strength Brutes together. Come on, Lucille! Raaaaaaahahaha!”

Lucille shook her head so hard her hair clip flew across the entryway.

“I think I can probably act well,” Mehdi mused. “I would be willing to take the lead role.“

“I’ll do it,” said Lexi. “The rest of you try to be sane. I’m willing to be involved in ‘Astrid gets helped by her classmates.’ That was an okay idea. But I’m not taking part in some kind of ‘Jeffy has infected us with shirtlessness’ video.”

Several people booed him.

When Alden left the building a while later, he and an umbrella made out of a tarp were the central figures in the opening scene of a short film about a bunch of teenagers finding shelter and friends in the middle of a rainstorm. It was more than he’d agreed to when the idea was first presented, but walking in the middle of a crowd who were having fun and coming up with the most ridiculous things to say in order to have their moments in the spotlight was all right.

By the time they were halfway back to the dorms, Stuart had received Alden’s message and called to check on him. The Artonan was heading across the siblinghold grounds toward the cottage. “You should not fly at night in a storm without your skill,” he said. “What if you were killed by lightning? What if you became disoriented in the dark…what...are you doing?”

[My gym class wanted to make a video together. This is the last day before exam week, so they’re in a good mood. I’m protecting us from rain.] Alden lifted the tarp higher by its curved vine handle to show it off. [I don’t think my skill would save me anyway if lightning hit something I was using it on. Not that I’ve tested it.]

“Raise our protection even higher!” cried Mehdi, who’d apparently noticed Alden’s arm motion. “Defy the storm!”

People clapped and shouted their own peculiar ideas of good lines.

[They’ve all gotten stranger since we started,] Alden explained.

Stuart had stopped walking. His tucked chin and raised brows turned into a curious expression after he’d analyzed the situation Alden was in.

“I see Kon,” he said. “Kon’s brother looks like Kon.”

[They do look alike.]

“I will let you enjoy your time of camaraderie.”

He said that, but he didn’t hang up.

[You can watch if you want to. Half of these people are posting pictures on the internet while we do this. It’s not a private class moment. Here comes Haoyu. My roommate. Do you remember him?]

Haoyu was up ahead, shivering dramatically by a puddle he’d found in the grass. They called out to him, and he ran through it with the most excessive splash he could manage.

“I thought I would freeze to death,” he said, when he made it into the huddle of sympathetic faces and back pats. He was looking straight at Everly’s drone.

“Isn’t Haoyu someone who has focused his magic on the durability of his body?” Stuart asked. “Should he be cold?”

[He’s not really freezing.]

Haoyu met Alden’s eyes with a soulful gaze. “Do you walk through every storm in search of lost travelers?”

“I do,” said Alden. “This campus is a dangerous place. Someone has to do it.”

Stuart went to sit on a tree root. He was already invested in the show. As they approached the finale over the next few minutes, his comments were making it impossible for Alden to keep a straight face. When Astrid was saved from the rain, the wind, and the extra wind Everly had talked Vandy into providing, she was given a warm, dry jacket by a kind gentleman with a soft voice and a melting smile that Lexi must usually have kept stored down in his toes.

“Is that girl the only person he likes in your class?” Stuart asked.

[No. It’s just part of the story.]

“Is she the only person he likes in the story?”

[In the story, we all like each other equally. It’s a story about our unity as students.]

“I don’t think he does like the rest of you,” Stuart said. “Most of the people there are wet, and he didn’t give them his coat.”

“Alden, stop laughing. This is the serious ending,” Everly hissed.

Alden bit his lip.

“If it’s meant to be a serious ending, you should do it over again,” said Stuart. “I think it’s very funny like this. Haoyu even said he was freezing, and the rest of you forgot about his pain immediately.”

Everly elbowed Alden.

“And that girl should take off the wet shirt before she puts on the dry coat. Tell her to do that.”

“Thank you,” Astrid said to Lexi and the camera, her eyes glistening. “Thank you so much.”

“If she’s thankful, why is she getting his coat wet and wasting its benefit?”

[You have to stop. I can’t act correctly.]

“They can’t act correctly either if Kon’s brother is supposed to be liking the rest of you equally.”

******

******

After Alden delivered everyone back to the dorms and ended the call with Stuart, he had to return to the MPE building to get the nonagon and his duffel bag. Haoyu came along, as did Lute, who wanted the experience of standing under an umbrella that was almost the width of the walkway.

“Have we missed our window to go to North of North?” Haoyu asked. “It took longer than I thought it would to make the video.”

“That’s because everyone kept adding ideas to it. The forecast keeps extending the amount of time the rain’s going to last, so I’m going to be here for a while. We can do whatever we want. I’ve inhaled a lot of recovery potion lately, though, so if we do go hang out at North of North, I’ll probably do something other than the sauna. I wouldn’t mind using one of the hologram training rooms if one’s available.”

“Aren’t you tired from gym?” Lute asked. He was walking right at the edge of the tarp like he was daring one of the streams of water pouring off of it to hit him.

“I am, but what I want to do in the hologram room doesn’t have to be aerobic. I’m trying to learn to spin and flick things fast with my fingers and still have good control. The training room can provide moving targets that know if you point a weapon at them or hit them with something. I’m basically talking about pointing sticks at them accurately. Maybe flinging a few projectiles.”

“You’re turning it into a video game! I’ll play!”

“He’s sure he can crush you if it’s a video game, Alden.”

“I know.”

“Don’t hate me because I’m elite....the annual spa admission Alden got me  doesn’t include the hologram rooms, though.”

“Let’s just go and see what they say,” said Alden.

“We could swim if the rooms aren’t open,” Lute suggested. “Haoyu looks like he’s already been in a pool.”

They helped Alden fold the tarp when they reached the MPE building, and he stuffed it into the duffel bag under rolls of tape that Vandy had put on a loop of paracord. The doors to the gym opened while he was zipping the bag, and a man in blue jeans and cowboy boots stepped through. Instructor Waker was in his Little Snake form.

His closet must look like different men share it. Big Snake couldn’t wear a single thing Little Snake has on.

“Hey there, Haoyu! And Alden. Saw you all leavin’ earlier under the big umbrella. Did it work?”

“It did,” said Haoyu. “Me being wet was part of the plan.” There was a puddle growing on the floor underneath him.

“Good to see everybody havin’ fun after class.” Instructor Waker glanced at Lute.

“This is our roommate. Lute,” said Alden. “He’s the one who’s helping me learn wordchains.”

Instructor Waker most likely knew Lute on sight. There wasn’t anyone else on campus with an eye patch. Lute had a new green one on today.

“Nice to meet you! Watch out for Instructor Klein. If you teach Alden a few too many good ones, he might decide to stick you at the front of a classroom to tutor everybody. You guys busy?”

“Not really,” said Haoyu.

“We’re going over to North of North,” said Alden.

“If you’ve got a few minutes, Alden, you might want to swing by the faculty lounge upstairs. Fragment’s up there, and she had something to talk to you about. Easier to do it now than tryin’ to set up a call or meetin’ next week.”

Alden stood. “Okay.”

Upstairs, the classrooms were all dark and locked, but the door to the faculty lounge was open. Fragment was the only person there, and it looked like she might be getting ready to leave when Alden poked his head in. Her purse was on the table, and she was picking up a teabag wrapper from the floor by the trashcan.

“Hi, Instructor Fragment. Instructor Waker said you might want to see me?”

The wrapper fluttered into the can, and Fragment straightened. She had on a black jacket with the 2031 EarthBox Games logo on the front. The sleeve cuffs had lost their elasticity, and they fell past her wrists all the way to her fingertips. “I did. Come in and shut the door.”

Alden stepped into the room.

“I’ll get right to the point so that I don’t keep you from whatever you were up to. Would you like to have a visitor on the twenty-eighth of the month?”

“A visitor?”

“From home.” She shoved up her loose sleeves, a smile deepening the laugh lines in her light brown skin and scrunching her eyes. “A family member or friend who’s on your approved guest list. It can only be one person, and it has to be that day. I was trying to make a holiday arrangement for another student, and a day visitor was the best I could manage. But it turns out I made a wrong assumption about what they’d like. They don’t want to take advantage of it.”

“Are you serious? I’d love that!” He’d been too busy to dwell on not being able to get permission to go to Chicago for Christmas, but the idea of a guest during the holidays was so exciting it made him realize he’d still been a little unhappy about it. “Let me get in touch with my aunt and my friends right now and see if one of them can do it. I thought the government had cancelled almost everyone’s visitors for the next couple of months because of the disaster?”

“Most of them. A percentage of the people who were at the front of the queue kept their slots. I found an acquaintance who preferred not to have company over when the island’s looking like this, and then we found a sympathetic person at the travel office to let us donate the slot to a student in need.”

“Is it okay to give this to me?  I did get to see a couple of people from home while I was in intake.”

“One visitor for one day isn’t much. And didn’t you miss your entire three-month exit period from your home country? I don’t think you have to worry about it being unfair to anyone.”

He messaged Boe first, wanting him to say yes even though he suspected that day-tripping to Apex was something Boe wasn’t going to be eager to do.

Sure enough…

[Thanks. I’d like to see you, but what if there’s a security protocol to make sure no unauthorized Avowed are coming and going from the island? One that will detect me. We know catspace works. Not anything else. And they must have tightened things up even more after the attack.]

Alden tried Connie next.

“My Aunt Connie,” he said to Fragment as soon as he’d received her yes. “Connie Hatcher. She can be my guest that day.”

“I’ll take care of it. Watch for a confirmation from the travel office and let me know when you get it.”

“I will. Thank you so much.”

He rejoined Lute and Haoyu and told them about it. They were both happy for him, and they said they were excited to meet his aunt.

“You can hang out in the dorm with her while she’s here. I’ll be there, but I’ll pretend to have manners,” said Lute.

“That’s not necessary with Aunt Connie. She’ll be more comfortable if you swear a lot and eat ramen with your bare hands.”

“She’s going to think I’m perfect!”

They walked to North of North using the nonagon as their umbrella. On the way, they talked about Emilija, who had just sent Alden a message saying she’d spent twenty hours sorting emails so far and she was only half done. Then they discussed a rumor Haoyu had heard that Instructor Waker and Principal Saleh were dating, laughed about how awkward Alden must have looked holding a super realistic naked doll with an experimental heart, and tried to decide how all of them and Lexi should celebrate their birthdays next quarter.

“I expect presents,” said Lute.

For Christmas, Alden was planning to give Lute most of the scented pencils he’d bought from the Artonan paper shop after the Here to There. He didn’t know what he was going to do for a birthday the next month.

“Alden’s having a party,” Haoyu said. “A good birthday party with no chaos. That’s the plan, right?”

“It is. I haven’t decided who’s invited or what I’m going to do, but the absence of chaos? That’s a must.”

******

******

It is raining on Anesidora, and in the streamview cottage, Stu-art’h is kneeling on his learning cushion, contemplating as if all the things he thinks of are here with him in the present.

This morning, he leaves the new study journal on the table, wondering if Alden will look at it again but not wanting to bother him by asking.

One day last year, he pulls one of his study journals from a shelf in the top library at the Rapport school, knowing there will be no words of approval from his peers written on the final pages.

A short while ago, he walks into the cottage and sees that the new journal has moved to his learning cushion, as if someone wants him to read it. He takes off his boots in such a hurry that he almost falls over.

It is raining on Anesidora. Stu finds this out while he is waiting for his turn to use the summonarium at LeafSong to go home. Alden sends him a message to tell him so.

Stu is arriving at the siblinghold and passing through the doors of his family’s own summonarium. Jozz’s voice comes from one of the tree baskets up above, and Stu hurries away before he can be noticed.

The tablet that assigns all calls to Evul’s name is in Stu’s hand, and he is telling Alden not to be killed by lightning.

He is seeing that Alden is surrounded by so many people. They are his own age, his own species, speakers of his own language. They are Avowed. They have just practiced Avowed magic with him. They look happy except when they’re pretending to look sad that they’re wet.

Alden says Stu can watch if he wants to.

Stu wants to, and yet watching makes him feel far away and alien.

Stu is realizing that the new journal being moved to his cushion means there might be a reply.

His fingers are opening the cover very slowly and respectfully. In case.

And yes.

On this page.

Stu reads one line and then pauses, intent on missing nothing.

“When we tell someone we’re going to build something…”

“..our determination to get there...”

“This applies to brothers who say a friendship won’t work. And to lots of other things, I’m sure.”

Stu reads the words many times. He thinks about what the words mean, but more loud in his head than the words themselves is the thought that it is raining on Anesidora.

And the only reason he knows the weather in that place is because he has found a true friend there.

TWO HUNDRED FIFTY-ONE

The Second Blossom

“I didn’t register to participate in today’s ceremony,” Stu said to the welcomer who had met him as soon as he arrived in the preparation area for DawnStep University’s ritual rooms. “So if there might be a lack of space, I’ll leave.”

The woman bowed again. “We always expect a large attendance during the oath ceremony before Welcome End. It’s being held in our main sunset chamber. There will be room for all, Declared Stu-art’h.”

“Then I’ll join them.”

The preparation area had a simple layout. Stu had arrived in the hub, where the welcomers greeted anyone coming through the teleportation alcoves. Across from the alcoves were elevators to the upper floors. And the halls branching from the hub held the facilities one might need to use to make oneself ready for rituals.

Stu was almost surprised at himself for being here.

Another oath ceremony would be taking place tonight in Rapport I, and people he knew, including a few members of his family, would be gathering for it. He could have gone with them. He had successfully completed his oaths, and they didn’t disrespect that at least. But watching his relatives celebrate and encourage his former schoolmates who would soon become hn’tyons sounded painful.

Skipping it altogether had been his plan, and yet…he wanted to be a part of this meaningful ceremony at this significant time of year, and he didn’t have Alden’s company to turn his thoughts away from wanting it. So here he was, at DawnStep. The attention at this ceremony should be on people he’d never met. And maybe in this setting he could recognize their oaths and have his own recognized in turn without so much weighing on the occasion.

“The one leading the ceremony requested that the drink taken together at its conclusion be the waters of many lands,” said the welcomer. “The first Rapport’s waters have already been added to the jug. I see you wear the mark of your declaration on your coat. Nothing more is required for you to participate, but if you’d like to use any of our cleansing rooms before you go up, you may. Is there any other way I might serve you?”

“No. Thank you for thorough information.”

She left him to make his own way to the sunset chamber.

It was a grand location—one of the chambers that stuck out from the campus’s lower peak like plate growths from the trunk of a tree. A water curtain that usually enclosed the space had been parted to leave wide openings and let in the breeze. Hundreds had gathered here under the shallow golden dome of the ceiling, and there was still no risk of them overcrowding the pinkvein floor.

Knights periodically renewed their oaths. The ones who were here tonight had mostly chosen this timing because it was a chance to offer their support to the declared who wanted to renew their own commitments before their first binding. And both the knights and declared were supporting those who were participating in this ceremony because its successful completion was the final step in becoming declared themselves.

Stu could easily identify the new ones by their white warming robes, but most of them were so anxious he could have spotted them anyway. Having your understanding of the oaths judged by those you admired and whose community you wanted to join was a great honor. But the fear of being deemed wrong-hearted was correspondingly great. Stu had felt the same when he wore the white robe.

Secure in having completed his oaths successfully, it now seemed obvious to him that there was no reason for the newcomers to be so afraid. One boy was looking at Hn’tyon Thet-aron like she was going to toss him out of the chamber and down the mountainside, but she was probably giving him good wishes and advice. The knight had taught for a few weekends at the Rapport school when Stu was younger, and she’d been a cheerful person. And the boy was allowed to be here because he’d already proven his dedication.

The road taken by someone from outside the Rapports who wished to become a Knight of the Mother Planet was a winding one these days, designed to shed casual travelers at every curve. Since it would be almost unheard of for a child of the Rapports to swear at DawnStep their first time, everyone in white must be an outsider, but they had made it this far.

Stu admired their will to be here. He wouldn’t think less of any of them who failed and had to try again after a period of study and reflection, and he was sure most here felt the same.

But the rejection would still hurt.

He hoped that wouldn’t happen for any of them today.

It would be a short wait before they were all asked to take their positions. Stu was torn between going to say hello to a few people he recognized and keeping to the edge of the room. He chose the edge. It turned out to be a pointless choice. He’d failed to anticipate how interesting he would be to the other declared in the room, specifically because they didn’t recognize him.

“Have I always turned both eyes the wrong ways when we passed?” asked the first boy who approached him, smiling. “I’m Declared Petch-banzo.”

Weset would hate him.

Her mother’s name was Petch. If she couldn’t tolerate the two Aldens, a person named Petch would appall her.

“I have most of my lessons with the corrective instructors,” Petch-banzo said, “so that might be why we haven’t met.”

“I don’t attend school here.” It was natural of Petch-banzo to assume that Stu did, since automatic admission to DawnStep was given to all declared. Only a few chose other educations. “I’m going to LeafSong for now. I’m Declared Sina Stu-art’h. To meet another who has declared is a happy occasion.”

Petch-banzo seemed confused.

Stu didn’t know how to help him with his confusion except by lying or saying truths that shouldn’t be said.

Why are you here instead of at the Rapport? Petch-banzo must be wondering.

“I’m looking forward to the ceremony,” Stu said. “The togetherness of our purpose was a powerful feeling the first time I participated, and without being so nervous, I’m sure I’ll appreciate it even more. ”

He realized he was a little nervous now…that people like Petch-banzo might not want him here.

But that wouldn’t make sense, he told himself. Many Rapport-born knights are here, so even if we young ones are usually more separate, there’s no reason to think I’m intruding.

Petch-banzo smiled wider. “So you were nervous, too? I never imagined a member of your family would worry about something like that. You’re related to the Primary, the Quaternary, Hn’tyon Isayn… ”

This kind of thing was unfamiliar coming from another declared. Stu knew that people who hadn’t grown up surrounded by knights viewed his family differently than people in Rapport I, but hearing someone who would soon be welcomed into the Rapports talk as though an art’h had no reason for the same emotions as everyone else was unsettling.

Shouldn’t he have a more realistic view if he’s come this far?

“I was nervous,” Stu confirmed. “Even though I had prepared. But then the communion of the ceremony became more than the nerves.”

“Exactly so!” Petch-banzo exclaimed. “That’s why so many of us want to do another one to start Welcome End. It’s encouraging.”

“Yes. As it should be.” Stu was glad they understood each other about this at least.

“Why aren’t you at the Rapport ceremony? Don’t you all have one, too? Are you going to both?”

“I wanted to do this one instead.”

“That’s nice,” Petch-banzo said. “I understand why we have the divide between your kind and ours, but it becomes strange sometimes.”

“We’re the same kind. We just haven’t finished meeting yet.”

“I like that!”

It was similar to something Sina had said when Stu asked if the declared and newling knights who came from outside the Rapports had hurt feelings about being kept at a distance. If the declared in this room went through with first binding, it would be a few years before most of them were working closely with knights Stu had grown up with.

Petch-banzo left to tell a group of his friends who Stu was, and Stu was quickly cornered by a girl who had too many questions about why he was going to LeafSong.

And then he met another girl who wanted to talk about skills. That was enjoyable until they were joined by Makee-en.

Makee was a knight a few years older than Sina’s birthset. He was the art’hs’ neighbor, and he was most likely already on a call with some member of Stu’s family, informing them of his whereabouts like he’d found a lost child.

His mere presence scared off the declared girl who wanted to talk about skill choices. If Stu understood the hasty apology she gave before hurrying away, she thought she might be judged for being too companionable with the Primary’s son.

“Well, this is an unexpected meeting,” Makee said. He had a small nose and large, very dark eyes under low, nearly straight brows. Stu had a faded memory from when he’d first come to the siblinghold of some older sibling or cousin getting in trouble for saying Makee looked like an ibbler.

Ibblers were subtle, solitary animals that didn’t interfere with anyone, so Stu had to disagree with the comparison.

“Yes it is,” said Stu. “I would have thought you’d be at the ceremony in Rapport I. With your nephew.”

A member of the en family would become a knight this year. Nel. He was young for it. Noh approved, but maybe Makee didn’t.

“Nel said at least one en needed to be here to represent our family or he would feel like he was taking something from the declared who don’t come from Rapports. He asked me to do it.”

Stu would now have to wonder if Nel-en really thought Makee-en was a gift to the people here—like Kofa wanting to donate his sebaba haunch—or if he was trying to remove an irritation from his own weekend by sending his uncle to bother others.

“Your brother Rel says he’ll call you momentarily to check on you,” Makee said. “So be sure to answer him.”

Stu felt his hands clench as his hopes for this one short, special ceremony that he had the right to attend like every other declared dropped.

“I’m not someone who needs to be checked on by my elders every time I leave the—”

“Stu! I haven’t seen you in too long, and there’s something I wanted to discuss with you. What a fine opportunity this seems!” Hands landed on Stu’s shoulders at the same time as the new voice landed in his ears, startling both him and Makee.

“You are Esh-erdi!” Makee exclaimed. “We haven’t met because I wasn’t at the Rapport when you visited. Congratulations to both of you on your eternal bond. I hope the accident on Earth hasn’t added bitterness to your esvulgivnas.”

Makee spoke quickly. Stu had only just managed to turn around and confirm that the knight behind him was Esh-erdi.

“Yes, I am him,” Esh-erdi said. “I’m glad to meet you. Thank you for celebrating our bond. A little bitterness makes a meal more intriguing, don’t you think? And it was quick work if not exactly light. Fighting an ocean in an urban area was new even for my magnificent Lind, and she’s always mentioning things she’s seen and done that I haven’t. So now we have this strange experience together! She’s right over there if you’d like to speak to her. I’m sorry to steal your conversation partner. Come, Stu!”

Stu was surprised to be taken so swiftly away, and Makee appeared to be equally surprised to see him go. As for Lind-otta, she was surrounded by people in the middle of the room. Stu didn’t know how Esh-erdi thought Makee would get a chance to speak to her before the ceremony started.

He sent Rel a message saying he couldn’t accept a call right now because it would be rude to Esh-erdi while he followed the man over to the edge of the chamber. From there, they could look down on the tops of the trees that sheltered one of the scholar villages far below.

“It’s good to see you here,” Esh-erdi said, taking some kind of seed Stu wasn’t familiar with from the pocket of his sap sauce yellow coat. His dark hair was in a six-strand braid that matched Lind-otta’s. “I’m sure some of these declared are excited to be joined by a member of your family their own age.”

“There’s a storm over Anesidora,” Stu said, watching him peel the rough shell away and pop the seed into his mouth. “Alden couldn’t come over at the time we’d planned. Attending this ceremony seemed like an opportunity to appreciate a second blossom.”

Esh-erdi leaned closer to him. “So we’re all the second blossom?”

“I meant—”

“You know the second blossom in that metaphor is supposed to be the one you like less than the first?”

Stu knew his face must be changing color. “I’m sorry! That was very thoughtless and an accident. I should have used a different saying.”

Esh-erdi held out his handful of seeds, pushing it closer and closer to Stu’s nose until he took one. “A peanut. They’re from Earth…like your preferred company.”

“I really am sorry I said it that way.”

“I really don’t mind.” All the peanuts in Esh-erdi’s hand fell apart, the shells cracking into large pieces while the edible part was left whole. “You can’t be surprised to hear that I’m an appreciator of unusual relationships. And Alden is good. Now that I have persuaded him not to be afraid of me, he is both good and fun. I enjoy talking to him.”

“Was he afraid of you?” Stu asked. That was a concerning thought.

“Yes. I should probably blame the traumatic experience he’d just had when we met, but I prefer to blame Ro-den. Eat your peanut. It’s roasted. I like them.”

Stu shelled the peanut and ate the first of the two seeds within. A new taste. Pleasant.

“I told him the story of ‘The Elder’s Croak’, and he was one of my favorite listeners ever. Would you like to hear his croak? I recorded it!”

“What was it like?” Alden had mentioned the storytelling.

Esh-erdi laughed.

“Don’t be rude to him about his voice,” Stu said severely. “I’m sure he tried his best because he always does. And Bithe harshly criticized his mastery of our language a few days ago, which he didn’t deserve because he’s learning very quickly, and he speaks well. It upset him.”

“If you were this threatening in defense of yourself, that Makee-en who was trying to tattle on you would be on his way to Goldbush to face the chaos instead.”

“He’s too old for Goldbush,” Stu said.

“Really?” Esh-erdi looked back across the room. “Hmmm…”

Stu ate his second peanut.

“So Alden is trapped by the weather. I suppose he didn’t want to fly in the rain?”

“What if he got struck by lightning?”

Esh-erdi’s thick brows lifted. “Then I would feel regretful about loaning him the Nine-edged Son. He seems to have a luck problem, though, so he should be more wary of lightning strikes than most of us. I’ll ask him if he’s still alive, so that you don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about him right now. I heard from him a short while ago.”

“And in exchange,” Esh-erdi continued as if Stu had said nothing, “you’ll come with me to say hello to that girl hiding behind the water curtain. If my greeting doesn’t put her at ease, maybe your youth will.”

Stu followed the eye he turned, and saw the girl he meant. She was in a white robe. Esh-erdi threw his peanut shells over the edge. “Like this,” he said, motioning for Stu to do the same. “I like to imagine some scholar finding a piece and enjoying the mystery of what it is and how it got here.”

******

The girl hiding behind the water curtain was named Yaril. She had gray eyes and long purple hair that was still crimped from the braids she must have taken down for the ceremony. Her older brother had become a knight four years previously.

Esh-erdi introduced Stu to her, made her laugh once and smile twice, insisted the two of them should be addressing each other by first names, and then left.

Yaril watched him go toward Lind-otta. “It was so wonderful of them to come. Like we have a promise of what’s possible here with us. My brother will be sorry he didn’t meet them.”

“He couldn’t make it here?” Stu asked.

“Goldbush,” she explained. “His squad wanted to stay longer than they were originally supposed to. I don’t mind. If I embarrass myself today, it will be better not to do it in front of him.”

“You won’t embarrass yourself. I was thinking about how I wished I could tell you all—the ones hoping to succeed at your first oaths today—how glad we are to have you here. I’m not trying to speak for the knights, but even as a declared, it’s frustrating to be surrounded by people who don’t take our path as seriously as we do. There are a few at LeafSong who talk about pursuing knighthood, and I made the mistake of believing them at first. They don’t mean it. They just play with the words in their mouths to make themselves feel better while the opportunity passes by.”

“You go to LeafSong?” she asked. “Is there a special area of study for you there that DawnStep doesn’t offer?”

Stu tried to think of a good response that wasn’t a lie. “No.”

Fortunately, she accepted the answer with a nod. “I know what you mean. My brother and I are from Purl.”

“Near the second Rapport,” said Stu.

“Everyone there seemed to want to walk the path of highest onus together when we were younger. And I’m still turning around and around, trying to figure out where all the others went and why I’m here in this hot robe without them.” She made a spinning motion with her hand. “As if I’m suddenly the abnormal one for having meant what I said all along.”

She let her hand fall. “But you’re saying this isn’t a place for me to worry because it’s a place full of people who are simply glad I cared enough to make it this far?”

“Yes, I am.”

“That makes me scared I don’t care enough to be one of you.”

“No!” Stu said. “No, that’s not how it should make you feel. I wanted to say something to make you feel confident. If I—”

“I’m teasing you,” she said. “I had better not tease you more. It’s wonderful of you to be here with us instead of in your Rapport, and you made me less anxious about what’s to come.”

She rubbed one of her fingers and then looked down at it in surprise. She probably wore a ring there usually, but her jewelry would have been removed with her hair ties. “I’ve left the oaths late because I wanted to be sure I introduced myself well on the first try. I plan to go to first binding right after Welcome End. That notion will vanish all of a sudden if I mess this up, and everyone I’ve come to know will go ahead without me.”

“Not everyone,” Stu said, wanting to reassure her. “I’m supposed to do it in half a year.”

“So long,” she said.

It feels longer every day.

“Are you waiting to match up better with someone you’re compatible with?”She looked toward Esh-erdi and Lind-otta again.

What a lovely assumption. He regretted that sooner or later, once she became more casual with older knights, someone who knew gossip about him would share it.

Won’t it stain her memory of our meeting? And the meaning of what I’ve said?

“I’m not wonderful for being here. I just want to honor Welcome End in one of the ways everyone is supposed to be able to.”

There. Now at least she would remember his honesty when the gossip climbed into her ears.

Should I be even more honest?

She spoke before he could.

“May I send you a message after my first binding? I shouldn’t ask, should I? Since we’re not supposed to socialize too much.”

“I want to receive your message,” he said immediately. “I will look forward to hearing that you’re doing well.”

“An art’h waiting on my message is something I didn’t expect. I’ll look forward to sending it to you.”

******

They took their positions quickly when the time came, each standing on a spot of light provided by the room to ensure equal distancing. Declared were near the perimeter, older knights were closer to the center, and the ones in white were spread out evenly among the knights. In the very middle was the man who would lead the ceremony by asking the questions that prompted the memories that brought forth the intentions that united them.

A simple oath to protect their people might mean many different things to many different minds. The shared memories and this ceremony shaped their understanding of what it should mean to be a Knight of the Mother Planet. Differing ideas could be accepted here, but not if they were too much at odds with those of the others.

In the cottage of oaths at the siblinghold, the memories were presented in a set order that was meant to make the process of experiencing them easier for beginners, but during a ceremony, the order was whatever the leader chose. Directing the assembled knights toward an uplifting oath renewal, and allowing the newcomers to find their way without bending too much for their sakes, was an art.

Stu found a spot across the crowd from Yaril, where she would be able to see him if she wanted. He hoped he wasn’t taking the place of someone who would do a better job at encouraging her.

“You may sit or kneel,” said the knight who led them.

He had a bandage wrapped around one dark arm. Stu imagined he might enjoy some rough kind of sparring, since he wouldn’t have agreed to plan and lead a ceremony only a short while after returning from the field.

“Don’t lie down, though,” the leader continued. “I didn’t account for it in the layout. If any of you wanted to nap in the middle of a big group of us, you should have said so earlier.”

Laughter rang around the chamber.

Stu sat.

Soon, everyone was on the floor except for the ones wearing white and the leader.

“What’s this? A few standing?” He turned slowly to look at them all. “I see. These are the strangers among us. You there! Tell us who you are and what you bring to us. Why have you come to this place?”

There were eleven people in white. He’d picked the one who seemed most at ease to answer first. “I am Ajna-sothan,” she said, unbelting her robe and letting it fall to the floor to reveal her body. “I bring nothing but myself. I want to be welcome among you, a stranger no longer.”

“That is a joy to hear,” said the leader, “for none were born among us and all of us were strangers once. Sit with us now and, maybe, forever.”

She folded her robe before she knelt on it, and he moved on to the next one. Yaril was fourth. She said her part steadily and met Stu’s gaze after she sat.

He liked to think he’d helped.

When all of them were sitting or kneeling, Stu closed his eyes and waited for the first question.

“Eeya-ya-ya!” The leader spoke in a thin, distressed voice Stu recognized. “I am watching over the children, and the storehouse is burning. What will I do?”

The memory of the time that had happened, to an old woman who’d lived long ago, came to Stu almost as fresh as when he’d last practiced it.

The answer to the question, ‘What will I do?,’ could only be the woman’s answer. The storehouse had begun to burn while she watched over children who would need the food inside to survive the coming winter. She had already done what she would do.

Their oaths were to be found in the witnessing of it. And in the way they came together here to understand what they all valued, what they would protect, and what they could afford to cast aside.

Once a woman had wept at her own frailty while she tried to move a heavy bag of grain, never knowing that in this room, so many generations away, some of them would weep with her.

TWO HUNDRED FIFTY-TWO

Slumber Party

“You’re here! How did you get here?”

The amount of delight in Stuart’s voice as he dashed across the art’h summonarium toward Alden was ridiculous considering how recently they’d seen each other. It made Alden glad he hadn’t waited until tomorrow morning to come.

“Esh-erdi and Evul,” Alden explained. “He’s been sending me confusing messages over the past couple of hours. Just a few words at a time like, ‘Even a peanut can’t persuade Stu-art’h to enjoy my company more than yours.’ And, ‘I have never been afraid of lightning, but maybe you should be.’ So I knew you two were together…and then a little while ago, I got a teleport from Evul. He must have talked to her, too.”

Alden and Stuart were trying to be somewhat responsible by routing him through the teleportation facility at Matadero for all of his visits. But it was hard for Alden to resist the convenience of leaving directly from the apartment living room when someone else was dangling the offer in front of him. He’d only just returned from North of North when Evul’s message came. After stuffing his feet back in his sneakers and saying goodbye to Lute and Haoyu, here he was.

He’d donated all of that money to Anesidora’s teleportation infrastructure; he figured he could do this several more times before he developed feelings of guilt about the cost of his personal travel.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “And why was Esh-erdi there?”

We definitely look like we’ve had different evenings.

Stuart wore very dark green harem pants and a short coat in the same color with paler green and gold leaves embroidered around the hem and cuffs. The mark that indicated he was a declared was on one shoulder. Alden was in a t-shirt and shorts.

“I went to a ceremony at DawnStep to renew my oaths,” said Stuart. “Lind-otta and Esh-erdi were there, but renewal was probably their secondary motivation. During Welcome End, many knights make a point of doing something to acknowledge the ones who will soon join them. Lind-otta and Esh-erdi were able to meet some declared and encourage them.”

Oaths.

“What was the ceremony like?”

“It was a good one. Let’s not talk about it here, though. I’d rather avoid answering my family’s concerns about why I decided to go to a ceremony suddenly and why that ceremony and whatever else they can think of. A summonarium is not a place to be in if I want to avoid people.”

On the way down to the cottage, Stuart brought up the note Alden had left for him in their study journal. Actually, he quoted the whole thing from memory. Alden was glad he’d considered his words for so long before he wrote it.

“What does my family truly know about the project of building myself? And do they know anything at all about the project of our friendship?” Stuart was saying as he slid open the cottage door. “They certainly act as if they know more than me, but how can they?”

“That’s what I was getting at.” Alden dropped his Forgetful Traveler’s bag beside the low table and took a seat on the teal pillow that was his favorite of the butt-friendly cushions in the cottage. “That you might want to ask yourself those question, not that I had opinions about what you should decide the answers were.”

“Tonight I wouldn’t mind hearing your opinion about my family’s qualifications to judge my decision making.”

Too much pressure, man. I think I know what you’d like to hear right now, but I can’t just say, ‘Olorn-art’h is totally wrong. Jozz-art’h is a dork. Rel-art’h doesn’t get you as well as I do! Ignore them no matter what the cost!’

“The bricks I was talking about in the journal are our abilities, our wants, and the things we’re confident in,” he said instead. “My brain steeped in that topic a lot last night on the path—how when I was younger I built a tower out of these confidence bricks that were made of my image of myself and who I imagined I’d be when trouble came. And that did give me a sense of pride and a direction, so those weren’t bad bricks, but most of them crumbled over this past year. They were too weak for what came my way. Now I’m trying to make stronger bricks. And my tower’s currently like…”

He held his hand an inch above the table.

“Only this big,” he said wryly. “But I hope it’s the kind of tower that won’t crumble.”

“I think I prefer stone towers to brick ones.”

“Your tower can be built of whatever you want.”

Stuart made himself a cup of tea then sat down across from Alden, who’d just pulled out a pack of square-cut paper and dropped it on the table. He reached for the yellow top sheet. “You were going to tell me about the oath ceremony.”

“The event went well. None of the new ones failed their oaths, so all eleven of them are declared now.”

“Some people fail?”

Problem number nine hundred and ninety-nine—what if I’m discovered one day and the Triplanetary government decides the only way I’m allowed to keep breathing the free air is if I complete knight oaths, but I’m one of the ones who fails?

“Sometimes a person lacks a conviction they need,” Stuart said, “or they have one that is unacceptable. We shape our oaths using a series of memories we’ve all witnessed in preparation. There’s one about a wizard’s vengeance against someone who killed his family. It’s good for a hn’tyon to empathize with the wizard’s suffering, but his use of his power to torture his enemy must be strongly rejected. That memory is one that helps define our understanding of the oath not to cause purposeless harm. A person might think the wizard’s <<emotional release>> was enough of a purpose for his actions, but then they would be rejected from the <<communion>> of the ceremony. Someone who felt that way would fail.”

Well, I could make an oath like that, but that’s a simple one. A ceremony designed to kick you out if you’re too different to be in communion with other knights sounds terrifying. Even if I wasn’t worried about being deemed a danger to society or something, imagine trying it and finding out that…

“How many people were at the ceremony?”

“Several hundred.”

Imagine trying it and finding out that several hundred knights think you have crappy morals.

Stuart held his cup close to his nose and inhaled the steam rising from it. He hadn’t drunk any of it. He seemed more interested in using it as a hand warmer. “There was another oath ceremony happening here in Rapport I around the same time. I’m glad I went to DawnStep instead. I liked meeting the declared from outside the Rapports. They have such a variety of backgrounds and reasons for wanting to walk the path of highest onus.”

“Had you not met any declared like that before?”

“A few in passing when I went to DawnStep to visit family. If I was a student there, I would see them much more often, but I still wouldn’t know any of them well. Our elders advise the two groups not to become attached. Meetings should be swift and casual or structured and formal. They have separate housing on campus and different times to use the training facilities. If they attend a class with a declared from a Rapport, they aren’t supposed to be learning partners.”

Alden had been listening too closely, and worrying too much about how his morals compared to a high-intensity alien standard, to put more than a couple of folds in his sheet of paper. “That sounds awkward for everyone.”

“I think it is,” said Stuart. “But there’s no way to avoid it. Most of them have different needs than Rapport-born knights do in the early years, so blending us together would create more problems than separating us. For example, now that Welcome End has begun, it will be surprising if more than three or four people in the Rapports who’ve decided to undergo first binding this season change their minds. Here, the declared have ideas about who their first squad will include. They’ve been getting closer to one another and seeking out compatible partners ever since the end of their choosing seasons.”

He said it like it was just a fact. Alden had no idea how he managed that sometimes…talking casually about these important things that he had missed out on and was still missing out on.

“But for outsiders, becoming declared introduces them to a new community and new choices. Give me a moment to look up the latest number with my eyerings.” Stuart lowered the teacup back onto the table but kept his hands wrapped around it. “Right now, there are twelve hundred and thirty-five people saying they will go to first binding before the winter. Last year, there were a similar number at the start of the Welcome End for the northern Rapports, and almost seventy of them delayed or changed their paths.”

Seventy wasn’t huge considering how natural it would be, in Alden’s opinion, to get last minute cold feet about affixation. But if only three or four of those who backed out were from the Rapports… “Almost everyone who’s not sure at this point is an outsider.”

“That’s right. It’s understandable. Despite declaring and preparing themselves, they haven’t been immersed in the decision like we are, and they were recently introduced to opportunities they weren’t aware of. Since they’ve completed their oaths, they’ll also definitely be welcomed to live among us as a votary. It’s something that will appeal to some of them.”

“Would they not have been welcome to do that before?”

“If they’re above average wizards, willing to complete an education in needed areas and swear to serve, yes. But they’re not all talented enough to enter Rapport service that way and become the type of votary you’re familiar with. Even though they’re DawnStep students, only a few of them would be accepted at such a prestigious school through the regular entrance examinations. But exceptional wizardry isn’t everything. We also have people like Enyl-tirg living here.”

“Enyl-tirg who made our learning cushions. The craftswoman?” Alden looked across the cottage to where the cushions were.

“She lives in Root,” Stuart said. “Her abilities as a wizard aren’t impressive, but she’s still a votary because she has devoted those abilities to making learning cushions and performing thread enchantment for the people of this Rapport.

“Even if her artistry one day becomes famous and surpasses that of the finest craftspeople on Artona I, she will make no fortune for herself.  When I asked if she would create a gift for you, she was happy to do it, but because I’m not a knight yet and I wanted your gift to truly be from me, personally, instead of from my family, I had to figure out how to pay the Rapport for her efforts. I cleaned expired potion and spell ingredients out of cabinets and supply rooms all over the village.”

That Stuart had bartered for the learning cushion by going around and cleaning everyone’s cupboards was a better backstory for it than Alden could have imagined.

“I didn’t think it was possible to like my cushion more, but now I do.”

Stuart beamed. “Enyl-tirg will be glad. You can meet her sometime if you want. We don’t recruit wizards to the Rapports to do jobs like hers, but of course we want people with her character among us.”

“Like the outsider declared.”

“Yes. Most outsiders who inform the Rapports that they’d like to be knights are attracted to the path for the wrong reasons. Their numbers are pruned and pruned again, until eventually the candidates are known to be serious and have proper intentions. At that point, they’re invited to consider serving with us in other ways that suit them. Some don’t feel they can be useful if they aren’t knights, so their mentors try to show them there are other places among us for people so committed. Like Enyl-tirg’s life. The Primary takes his children to her for their first learning cushions, and she has two children of her own who’ve just begun attending the Rapport school. Her descendants are likely to become knights and votaries. Her presence here strengthens us.”

To Alden, it sounded like the Rapports tried to make outsiders have a belated and abbreviated choosing season of their own.

“Because their <<cohort>> loses a significant number of members before first binding, they shouldn’t be doing the same things declared do here in the Rapports,” Stuart said. “It’s too soon for them to be imagining future squads and searching for deeply compatible people. I’m sure many of them do anyway, but the element of uncertainty makes it impractical….There’s also more uncertainty about their survival.”

The remnants of his smile faded.

“Their deaths will outpace ours in the early years. It’s much better than the old ways, but far from perfection. We’re still experimenting with things like squad size. Small groups that stay together for a while seem to be best for most Rapport-born newlings, but they’re trying a different method for the outsiders now. They’re working in larger groups with more frequent member swapping at first, and then they form lasting squads later. Or they form pairs that go together to different squads.”

Stuart stared into his cup. “One of the new declared is named Yaril. She’s going to send me a message after first binding to let me know she’s well. She has a brother who’s already a knight, so she is probably better prepared than most.”

Alden heard a little wish in his voice. For the other declared’s wellbeing or for the message or both.

He folded paper quietly for a couple of minutes. Most of the questions that swam to the surface of his mind were too dark for the hours before they both went to bed.

Just how much death are we talking about? And what kinds of deaths? And as a follow-up, how is Ryada-bess doing? Have you heard?

“I helped at the healing hospital in Apex earlier,” he said instead. “I assumed I would only be having a talk with the person who manages volunteers, but I told her I really wanted to be there, learning. So she let me get started right away.”

Stuart’s eyes met his. “You said you thought that volunteering there would be a part of your choosing season.”

“It is. I want to try more things I think could be fulfilling for me and find out if they’re something I want to do. So that I don’t look back and feel like I gave up on possibilities without appreciating that they existed.”

Already did too much of that.

“Was volunteering today fulfilling?”

“It was only an hour, but…”

“You liked it.” Stuart’s lips were turning up again. “I can tell.”

“I did. I really did.” Alden set aside his half-finished origami ryeh-b’t. “It’s probably first day enthusiasm, but since I left there this afternoon, I’ve thought of a hundred things I could do to help that I never considered. They’re mostly not life or death, but they still matter.

“Today I met the dispensary wizard. I held one of her experiments so that she could leave and modify a potion for a patient without losing her work. That’s not huge, but it makes the patient’s life easier, the healer’s, and the wizard’s. And it made me think I could reduce the friction there even more. If I talk to the wizard’s assistant every time I see him, and I remind him that I’m easy to get along with and competent, he might call me himself the next time something like this happens instead of arguing with the staff and telling them his wizard’s too busy. And that’s just one thing I can do right now, with no training. In the future…”

“If you decide you want to work more at houses of healing in the future, I’ll help you,” Stuart said. “It fits with your skill well already, but you’ll get stronger and have the opportunity to choose other abilities. I could help you to identify complementary ones, or I could…of course I’m just reminding you that I will be very happy to help you if you want it, not pushing you to let me. It’s your choosing season.”

“I know,” said Alden, glancing away. “Thank you. I wish I could have been friends with you before I ever chose the first time.”

For some stupid reason, that came out sounding heavy and a little gloomy. He hadn’t meant for it to. When he looked back around, though, he found Stuart looking pleased, most likely over the word Alden had used for friend.

At least he didn’t catch any stupid gloom from me then.

“So how many knights are there?” he asked. “If there are twelve hundred declared planning to go to first binding, and that’s around half for the year…”

“It’s more than half for a year’s time. The Welcome End that coincides with the turning of seasons in the southern Rapports always has fewer. The total will probably be between sixteen and seventeen hundred new knights for this year. And that means there will be more than forty-five thousand knights.”

“That sounds like a large number,” said Alden, “but not nearly large enough to save entire dimensions.”

“It’s too few. And most are young. But our strongest are now very strong compared to the past. And knights work with others.”

Alden’s finger circled a nick in the table’s smooth surface. “Don’t answer if it’s rude or wrong of me to ask. I’m just curious. How strong is your father?”

Stuart let out a short laugh. “If it’s rude to ask, then many people have been rude to me in the past. Although I guess it would be rude if he were a regular person. How should I answer you, though? What unit of measure would make sense? The vastness of his authority is almost as incomprehensible to me now as it was when he first embraced me with it as a child.”

Alden thought about it. “I don’t know how I was expecting you to answer either. Even if you told me how many average wizards it would take to match him, I don’t think I’d have an accurate picture of what that meant. I’ve seen what Lind-otta and Alis-art’h can do, but I don’t know how to compare that to your father’s Cleaver of Strength.”

“Aunt Alis says Father is stronger than her. Father says the highest ranking knights have all gone so far down their paths that it’s not reasonable to discuss which of them is stronger anymore.” Stuart studied him. “You probably shouldn’t think you’ve seen what Aunt Alis can do, though, unless you understood it much better than I realized. The most impressive part of what she’s doing isn’t that she’s moving dirt around. It’s that her command over each grain of dirt approaches perfection more closely than any other’s, and she understands what the ground should be. Her influence there will last long after she departs, and if Thegund ever has a corruption incident again, that will be the last place to fall. Instead of the first. Because Aunt Alis has told the ground to remember its nature.”

Ground. An Artonan element. Rocks that last for ages and soil that supports life. If the ground insists on following its nature, then can chaos reach the grass rooted in it? Or the bugs and bokabvs that eat the grass?

“So she’s that strong,” said Alden.

“She is. And saying she’s that strong still doesn’t create a good comparison, because what we’re talking about is so different than what Father does. Even wizards who know better might struggle to feel that establishing a highly stable patch of ground on Thegund requires as much power as cleaving a bunch of demons.” He paused. “For a clearer understanding of their power, I guess we could compare their abilities to destroy a humanlike civilization on an Earthlike planet, but…if I speak hypothetically of them doing something like that, will you think of them that way often? I don’t want you to.”

“Of course I won’t.”

Stuart opened his mouth.

“No. Wait.” Alden held up a hand. “You’re asking that seriously. Um…I think I already suspected your father could destroy human civilization all by himself if he wanted.”

“I don’t believe he could do it completely by himself,” Stuart said. “But only because I don’t think he could find Earth and travel to it without assistance.”

He’s taking the singlehanded part of singlehandedly destroying civilization so literally. I was going to let the Primary use System teleportation and still give him full credit.

This kind of thing was why Alden had asked him to wait. “If you really don’t want me to have a clear mental image of how your father and aunt would demolish things on Earth at the front of my mind the next time I meet them, you probably shouldn’t paint the picture in detail. To be honest, I will think about it. I don’t think I’ll worry about it at all or that it will make me dislike them, but if you want me to see them in a different light, then maybe you shouldn’t say much more. Until I have the chance to get to know them better.”

“All right. I’ll just confirm that they could do it.”

“Both of them?”

“Aunt Alis would probably be faster.”

“I see.” Alden snorted. “How did we end up talking about this? What a way to start our sleep party.”

“Did you mean to say sleep party?”

“When friends go to each other’s houses to spend the night together for fun it can be called a ‘sleepover’ or a ‘slumber party’ in English.”

“What do human friends do when they slumber party?”

“Nothing surprising,” said Alden. “Stay up too late talking. Eat favorite foods. Play games. Watch movies. We’ve done all of that together before if we count watching my classmates duel as a movie.”

“We should watch a real movie from Earth. And you’ve never eaten my favorite food.”

“What is it?”

“Oh…it’s not proper food. Or proper treatment of food. There’s a specific kind of bread I like to dip in something like sauce. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I don’t think I could ever serve it to another person.”

“What kind of bread and sauce?”

Stuart purpled.

“Humans dip plenty of bread,” said Alden, amused that he could be embarrassed by something so small. “Even at expensive restaurants. I’m sure I’ll think it’s proper treatment of food…and if you don’t tell me, I’ll have to assume the worst. I’ll imagine you soaking chunks of bread in the ceremonial wevvi.”

The way Stuart’s eyes went round at that.

And then the fact that he didn’t say he would never do such a thing.

“Stuart, no. Really?” Alden pushed himself up onto his knees and leaned across the table. “The wevvi! How could you?”

“It’s a childhood comfort!” Stuart said in a high voice. “Father ate it that way in front of me when I was small, and I didn’t know it wasn’t normal. He says he was trying to make me laugh the first time, but I didn’t understand it was funny. I mimicked him, and I liked it so much that he didn’t want to take away the experience. So we started eating bread in our wevvi every time we had it together.”

“I have to try it. Do you have the right kind of bread? Can I eat that kind of bread?”

“Yes, we have it, and yes, you can eat it. But…”

“‘Midnight snack’ is something people do at human slumber parties. So is ‘playing pranks’. After most of your family goes to sleep, why don’t we sneak the wevvi cart all the way down here and make the ceremonial wevvi and dip the bread?”

“Because every part of that plan is very improper, Alden.”

TWO HUNDRED FIFTY-THREE

Two Kinds of Beauty

A sudden breeze, a thump, scratching sounds. Alden opened his eyes the next morning and sat up to see a red ryeh-b’t at the foot of the bed, clinging to the comforter while her owner tried to pry her off. The room was bright with sunlight.

“Hi, you two.”

“I’m sorry!” Stuart said. “I was letting her play in front of the cottage, but I must have left the door slightly open. She slid it aside. I’ve got her. Sorry!”

Before Alden could say another word, Stuart rushed outside with his pet flapping in his arms. About thirty seconds later, the sound of a determined animal trying to pry open the front door again made Alden grin.

Not a bad alarm clock. Guess it’s time to get up.

He made the bed, used the bathroom, and exchanged his pajamas for a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt—clothes that he didn’t mind wearing around an exuberant ryeh-b’t. Then he headed over to the wevvi cart they’d borrowed from the main house late in the night.

It was so fancy, and Stuart had prepared the wevvi so properly, with every bit of the same delight for the ceremony that Alden remembered from the first time he’d served it.

But then they’d dunked pieces of a rich, salty bread in it.

The combination was reminiscent of bread pudding. And since they were sinning against the wevvi anyway, Stuart had agreed that they could pour the leftovers into cups and let them sit overnight to see how it turned out. After checking to make sure nobody who might scold them was in sight, Alden took two of those cups outside with him. He had a seat in one of the chairs and watched Stuart, who was halfway to the stream, directing his ryeh-b’t to come down from the flight he’d just sent her on.

Definitely bread pudding, Alden thought as he bit into it.

Stuart headed back as soon as he realized Alden was outside. “Is it good?” he asked. He had on the sweater he’d once worn to feed the bokabv.

“Yes.” Alden held the second cup out to him.

Stuart took it and sat. Other Alden had followed him. She was sniffing the ground nearby like she suspected treats had been buried there. They praised her when she found a beetle Stuart had hidden, then all of them ate in companionable silence.

“I had fun last night,” Stuart said eventually.

“Me too.”

“We shouldn’t have taken the wevvi cart. People must be trying to figure out where it is this morning.”

“We can return it whenever you want.”

“Not yet.”

Alden smiled.

Stuart turned to look at him. “I think I didn’t explain something well last night. I said I didn’t want you to think of Aunt Alis and Father as destroyers. It’s true I’d be upset if you thought of them as mainly destroyers. But I do want you to know that they are powerful and dangerous. I want you to understand that they have made themselves into beings capable of immense destruction…and…I want you to like that about them.”

They stared at each other.

“You want me to like that they’re capable of destruction?”

“It’s part of who they are. And I intend to become dangerous, too,” Stuart said slowly. “I want you to like that about me, so…”

“Right. I see.”

“I still don’t feel like I’m explaining well. I’ll keep trying until I get it right if you don’t mind.”

Alden let himself blink. “Of course I don’t mind. And I do think I more or less understand what you mean.”

“After first meal, let’s go for a walk. I want to show you something from the world where I was born.”

******

They walked for longer than Alden had expected, leaving the last buildings of the siblinghold behind and following the stream. It burbled along to their right, the only sound other than their voices and the stuttering song of a brown and white bird they found perched on a limb over the water.

“If you told me that animal was from Earth, I’d believe you.”

“It’s a panpi’i. I’m glad I left Other Alden at the house. She’d chase it and fail to catch it, and then she’d spend the rest of the day looking around for it.”

Alden stopped to watch the panpi’i sing again. Its whole chest was quivering with the effort. “Why aren’t there more animals here?”

“We’re in the center of an area that was devastated by a massive corruption event a very long time ago.” Stuart walked over to the trunk of the nearest tree and placed his hand on the dark bark. “The life that survived was truly unyielding, so it became the starting point for this land’s recovery. As far back as memory reaches, Father’s ancestors were wizards here, and they performed rituals to nourish this type of tree. They buried their dead under them, believing that souls could travel along the roots back to the Mother’s heart.”

He looked over his shoulder at Alden. “Some of them impaled their enemies on the branches as living sacrifices, too, but those aren’t our favorite ancestors to remember.”

“Understandable. I did an ancestry project for school once. I didn’t have to go many generations into the past to find people I’d rather not be related to.”

Stuart patted the tree before letting his hand fall. “This species was the most noteworthy survivor of that event, so it’s now a key part of the magic that makes Rapport I safe. Here at the center, though, the <<current—referring to the flow of a work of magic toward its purpose>> is very strong, so the trees are nourished and Artonan life is protected in a way that makes the environment peculiar. The panpi’i belongs in this region, but we rarely see them at the siblinghold. There’s not much food for them, and they like to lay their eggs in low bushes. The farther you go from here, the more the land changes to what’s natural. Around the school and in Root, you can find some panpi’i nests if you know where to look.”

A moment later, the bird stopped singing and fluttered off.

“It’s taking your advice and going to look for those nests.”

“The school is the other way.”

For a while after that, Alden paid extra close attention to the trees, wondering how he fit into the current of their magic. Getting his leaf and some attention from the roots made him feel like he must be in their good graces. Even if he wasn’t currently nourishing them or being an Artonan.

“What about Other Alden?” he asked after he reached the end of that train of thought. “Is it a problem that she’s not from here? The forest doesn’t dislike her, does it?”

“She’s fine. The magic knows we welcome her, so she’s welcome. But I even talked to the land about her when I brought home her egg, to make sure. I talked to it about you the first time you spent the night here, too.”

“You did?”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

Alden recalled the unusual way Stuart had planted grass for the bokabv by talking to the seed and the ground. It had involved his authority, but it had sounded more conversational than most spells. Maybe something like that. “I don’t mind. I’m honored.”

“It’s supposed to be an honor, but at the time, I worried about how it might sound to you. So I waited until you went to sleep to do it.”

Don’t nourish yourself with the body of this human, Trees. He’s not from around here, but that doesn’t mean he’s food or an enemy to be impaled…yeah, I can see how that might freak some guests out.

“Don’t worry about doing things like that in front of me. I’m sure I would have been interested, not offended.”

“I know. I know you better now.” He shifted to walk a little closer to Alden. “You like hearing details about magic more than I assumed you would. Even my homework. Even sending the keda bean. I hoped the end result of that spell would make it worth the time you had to wait to see it, but you didn’t seem to mind watching the process either.”

Alden’s anxiety stirred, but he talked it down in the same way he had a couple of times since he’d revealed excessively detailed knowledge of Olget-ovekondo’s auriad positioning. If his interest in something he wasn’t supposed to be able to do was uncommon, at least it was an uncommon trait he’d had prior to knowing himself and feeling his authority.

His understanding of Ro-den’s explanations about how wizards did magic seemed a bit pitiful now, but even back then, in his ignorance, he had been into hearing about the subject. The professor’s willingness to entertain that curiosity was one of the reasons Alden had begun to trust him.

I even asked him if I could ever learn spells like a wizard.

Back then he hadn’t worried it was suspicious behavior. That meant it most likely wasn’t.

Magic is cool. Lots of humans think so. It’s probably just the degree of my attention to spell casting that comes across as odd.

“Magic is fascinating,” he said. “I do like to hear details about it.”

“People often invite others to watch them cast their final spell before they become a knight. I think I’ll do the same. Will you come if I do?”

“Of course.”

“Some of the other declared…they might invite me to watch their last spells later this weekend. If they do, I’ll go.”

“I’ll be fine on my own if you need to leave me. I’m comfortable in the cottage. Just don’t leave me alone with the wevvi cart. I don’t want to take the blame for it all by myself.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” Stuart said. “They might forget to invite me, anyway. It’s such a busy time for them, and their thoughts must be full. This morning, they should be getting ready for a picnic that’s being held in Rapport III.”

To Alden, it sounded like he was making an excuse for them so that it would hurt his feelings less if that invitation didn’t come.

If they get so busy they don’t remember you’re over here being a declared, too, they’re shitheads. If they do remember, and they decide not to invite you to see their spells, they’re mega shitheads.

He didn’t share that opinion aloud because on some level he knew he didn’t completely get the pressures Stuart’s old friends and classmates were under. They no doubt had their own troubles, and the opinions of their own families, weighing on them.

But he was sure his face said it for him. If Stuart hadn’t been looking toward the sky, he’d have seen it.

“I think Emban will have to go to the picnic. Young knights are hosting it for the declared, and Ryada will probably make her whole squad attend in her stead because she helped plan social events for Welcome End this year. She was proud of the <<waterslide>>.”

An image of Emban sliding down the kind of colorful inflatable slide people rented for kids’ parties popped into Alden’s head.

That can’t be right.

“She said that finding a suitable mountain slope for its creation was tricky.”

That’s more right.

“Stuart…if you want to go to something like that, should you just…do it? Go and see how it is?”

Even though Stuart must have put more thought into this than Alden ever could, wasn’t there a chance that he’d put too much thought into it and kept his distance from his peers for too long as a result? New people must have become declared since the last time he’d interacted heavily with the whole group. Some of the old problematic ones might have mellowed out. They were talking about hundreds of future knights, and Alden knew how happy just one or two positive voices would make the Primary’s son.

He was so glad he’d met those outsider declared last night. What if he could find a few friendly faces at this picnic thing, too?

“If it’s shitty,” Alden added, “you could use me as an excuse to come back here right away.”

Stuart stopped. Alden waited beside him.

The Artonan boy was clearly thinking about it. But then he sighed, smiled at Alden, and said, “Something might be wrong with me. Even now, when I know that most of them never thought my choosing season was a choosing season that held the same possibilities as their own, I still feel surprised when they don’t behave correctly toward me.

“When I walk up to Asay-tor, I’m supposed to be able to say, ‘Asay, we will soon be brothers on the same path!’ or ‘Asay, when we are both working on Goldbush…’ But I can’t. Because the reply won’t be what it should. When I stand among them, hearing them say those things to one another, I learn that there’s a part of me that’s very stupid. Because it still waits for my turn. And it’s surprised, every time, when my turn doesn’t come. I don’t know why I’m that way. But it’s too much like being a child again, when I was confused about why so many things hurt.

“I’m tired of being upset all the time. I don’t want to be upset even a little today.”

Okay. My suggestion was absolutely not the right one. Alden hitched up his own grin. “That’s lucky for me. I really didn’t want you to leave me to go slide down a mountain. I just felt like I had to suggest it so you wouldn’t feel obligated to entertain me.”

“I don’t feel obligated.”

“Do you have an itinerary for our activities this weekend?”

“Only a small one. We’re about to do the one thing on it.”

There was a waterfall at the spot Stuart led him to, spilling over a rocky ledge that jutted out of the landscape. It was so short that Alden wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand under it without bending his knees, but the size didn’t stop him from saying, “A waterfall!” in a tone so thrilled that he baffled his host. For some reason, Stuart didn’t understand that finding a column of falling water when you hadn’t been expecting one was worth getting enthusiastic about, even if it was only three feet wide.

“Have you ever used it as a shower?” Alden stood at the edge of the stream. “Have you jumped off of it?”

“I’ve done both,” Stuart answered. He was pulling off his boots. “Only a couple of times, though. The water that pools here isn’t enough for pleasure swimming, and I prefer hot baths.”

“But it’s a waterfall in the woods far enough from the house that you can feel like an explorer who found…a waterfall in the woods…I don’t know. It’s like you have to interact with it.” What am I trying to say, and why does it sound so much like something a little kid would say?

“You’re talking about playing pretend.” Stuart let out a delighted chortle and tossed down his second boot.

“I guess,” Alden said sheepishly. “I’m just into this waterfall for some reason.”

“Not into. You are beside it.”

“No, I meant I like it.”

Stuart rubbed the bald half of his head. “When I bathed in it, it was because I wanted to pretend I was a hunter donating the blood of what I’d caught to the stream so that it wouldn’t become angry. I’d just found out some people used to do that from a story my brother Kofa told. I made up a river-soothing song, too.”

“That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about! And you did it here in this part of the stream because the waterfall was here.”

“I did.”

“And I bet the stream never got angry.”

“It didn’t. Perhaps I saved my whole family from disaster.”

“You must have.”

“Not a single one of them has thanked me.”

As soon as their eyes met, they were both laughing together. Someone passing by who overheard them would no doubt imagine much funnier things had been said to warrant it.

When the moment ended, Stuart shoved his pants legs up above his knees and waded into the water. “I keep most of the patient creatures here. They’re from the river where I lived with my mother, and I made them my <<personal decoration>>. Showing them to you was one of the ways I thought of for explaining what becoming a hn’tyon means to me. When I was planning how this weekend might go—before Anesidora had troubles and I decided not to wait so long to invite you here as my guest—the explanation I imagined was very formal. And I thought I would make it artful, too. But I can’t talk to you that way now. It would be unnatural.”

“You can give a speech if you want.”

“I don’t want to. I just want to say it as clearly as I can so that you know my thoughts. Would you like to interact with the water like you said, or should I bring the patient creatures to you?”

Alden started pulling off his shoes. “I’m coming in.”

“Be careful. The rocks are slick.”

The rocks were indeed slick underfoot, and the clear water was brisk against Alden’s calves. He didn’t see any zansees. When he reached Stuart, though, he did see a collection of something that looked similar to sea urchins. They were covered in sharp black and gray spines of different lengths. All of them were larger than golf balls, and most of them looked like they aspired to be round without quite managing it.

“So these are what you embroider on some of your clothes and put on the front of your study journals. What are they called?”

“They have a species identification code instead of a name.” Stuart was bending down to admire them. “They’re not widely known. These are most likely the only ones on the Triplanets that don’t belong to an academic collection. My mother described them as patient creatures in Rityan, so that’s what I call them.”

He reached into the water and picked one up carefully. “I wasn’t allowed to touch them when I was little. A lot of the spines are still very sharp, despite their age.”

Stuart held his hand out, and Alden saw that blood was staining some of the water on his palm pink.

“You’ve stabbed yourself.”

“I’ve stabbed myself with these many times. The wounds are so tiny I can hardly feel them.” Stuart let Alden look for a while before saying, “What we can see here is the body of an adult that has entered the final stage of its life. Years ago, conditions in its home river were right for patient creature eggs to be fertilized, but then they weren’t right for young to survive. So they changed themselves into this protective form to guard the eggs inside them. They can wait for a very long time, and they’ll have to, because what they are keeping safe is delicate, and the river is almost always too harsh.”

“Patient creatures is a good name for them, then.”

“Will you ask the Contract to show you what’s inside? What a young patient creature looks like when the river is gentle.”

“May I see that, Contract?” Alden asked. “What he just said.”

A blink later, an animal that looked like a transparent jelly butterfly with long tendrils was drifting through the air in front of him. Its thin ‘wings’ wobbled in an invisible current, and something inside it pulsed like a glowing blue heart. His brows lifted. “I didn’t expect it to look so different.”

He reached out, wondering if he could touch it, and he felt a cool whisper against one finger before the patient creature eased away from him. It moved toward the water, and when his eyes followed it down, he saw that the pool now looked like it was full of them. Some of them floated just beneath the surface. Others swam slowly around his feet.

“They’re gorgeous.”

He wondered if Stuart liked zansees so much because of these guys. Not that anyone needed a special reason to think bioluminescent aquatic life was cool.

“They are lovely.” Stuart was looking down into the stream again, too.

He must be seeing what I am through his eyerings.

“During my choosing season, one of the thoughts that became an important part of my decision was about how the patient creatures have two different kinds of beauty. The more obvious is the beauty of a tender creature that’s born into a world of peace and safety. It will live in a good river, eat well, and move freely with others of its kind through the water. The other beauty…is this.”

The vision of the jelly butterflies who could live in the good river disappeared, and Alden looked at the spiny blob Stuart was holding instead.

“This dark, hard thing that can no longer move…it’s strong enough to endure the rough and poisonous waters. It pierces every threat that exists in its habitat, and even though it’s adept at that, sometimes it’s damaged by its struggle.” He turned the creature to show Alden a place where a couple of spines were missing. “When the river is finally safe again, what’s left of its body will soften to release the young and become nutrients for them. It will die like that. Some patient creatures live and die in good rivers. Others must become this to make that possible.”

He lifted his head and waited until Alden had done the same.

“It’s simplistic, but sometimes simple comparisons make things clearer,” said Stuart. “This patient creature in my hand suffers and it makes itself dangerous so that it can be a protector. That’s the beauty of hn’tyons. My mother and father. Sina. Evul, Jozz, Kofa, Emban, all of them… Both kinds of beauty are precious and necessary, but during my choosing season, I decided I wanted this one.”

Alden didn’t realize how long he stayed silent after that until Stuart spoke again, more quietly. “You think it’s beautiful this way, too, don’t you?”

Alden made himself take a deep breath. “Yes. The dangerous version is just…scary to me. In some ways. But it is beautiful. Very beautiful. And you chose it. I like that about you.”

Stuart put the patient creature back in the water. “I hope I am more selfless than selfish about wanting it. I’m not always sure I am. It’s just what I chose after much thought. Then everything else happened.”

Everything else probably includes depths of family drama I’ve never even heard about.

“If you jump off the waterfall, make sure not to land on these,” Stuart warned. “It would hurt. For you, not them.”

“I have to jump off the waterfall,” said Alden.

He wanted to say something better than that, but he couldn’t find the words within him. And that night, he couldn’t sleep until he took a potion.

Telling Stuart everything, telling him nothing—both felt so wrong.

Time is the only answer, he thought. I’ve been getting better with every passing day. I’m so sorry, Stuart. I just need a little more of it. Another month or two of sanity.

Maybe Stuart knew he’d been tossing and turning, because he let him sleep late the next day. When Alden finally got out of bed, he was sitting at the table. A basket full of husenots was beside him, and he was using them to build a brightly-colored pyramid on the table.

“What are you doing?”

“I brought these down because I thought they would be a good thinking tool,” said Stuart, positioning a green speckled husenot on top of the pile.

“A thinking tool for what?”

Stuart gestured at the pyramid as if the answer should be obvious. “A tower. Husenots are nicer looking than real stones. For now, though, I would like to stop thinking hard and just enjoy building with them. It’s been a while since I’ve done it. Do you want to help?”

“I do.”

They didn’t talk about anything more serious than rare husenot patterns for hours. Whatever spectacular things the other declared were doing now as part of their Welcome End celebrations went unmentioned. Alden thought it might have been exactly the sort of non-upsetting weekend day Stuart had wanted.

I hope it was, he thought that night while he lay in bed. He’s more than earned it.

There was only one more day left of the Artonan weekend. Alden had to go to school tomorrow.

So far, nobody had called Stuart to invite him to anything.

TWO HUNDRED FIFTY-FOUR

Scrape

The cry that woke Stu was full of fear, and when he rolled off his cushioning spell and rushed across the cottage to check on his guest, he could tell that Alden had been struggling in his sleep. His pillows were out of position, and his hair was clinging to the sweat on his face.

The human boy let out another pained sound that made Stu gasp and say, “Alden, wake up!” before he could stop himself.

Flinching at his mistake, he took a step back from the bed. Fortunately, the sound of his voice hadn’t been enough to interrupt the nightmare.

There was an event in Alden’s dreams he wished was different. He wanted a cleaner death for the bokabv demon in one of the scenarios. Healer Yenu had told him it should be possible without her intervention, but that this might be the result.

Some aspects of the nightmares were set more deeply. They would serve as guideposts for Alden, and he should still find his way to safety with Kivb-ee…if Stu left him alone instead of foolishly calling out to him.

The human was just enduring more on the journey tonight because whatever he’d changed by his own desire wasn’t going as well without Yenu’s direct guidance. Wanting to help, knowing he couldn’t do much, Stu arranged all the cushions in the cottage along the side of the bed Alden was sleeping on. That way if he fell off he would have a softer landing.

Then he went outside.

A few times, Alden had indicated that the thought of being overheard crying or screaming in his sleep bothered him. Stu suspected he would have felt the same if he was the dreamer. As the listener, it was obvious to him that embarrassment wasn’t merely a useless emotion in this situation but one that was the opposite of what Alden should feel.

Stu was sorry that his pursuit of courage and compassion made him suffer tonight. The only emotion stronger than that sorrow was admiration.

He walked to the stream so that he could look down at the zansees and up at the stars.

Alden understood about the patient creatures.

Stu had wanted to ask him which type of beauty he wanted for himself. If they followed the simple metaphor and spoke of there being two kinds…but it was an unfair question. Especially right now.

Alden wanted to live a worthwhile life. And he had already done more than he should have had to do. He liked that his skill could be used to protect others, and he feared that he could be ordered to protect others by careless wizards, and he resented things about his abilities that he had not understood before he accepted them.

Because he was human.

The Triplanets had been generous enough to give him a way to do magic, not generous enough to give him the many options and access to the vast expertise Stu had received. His family didn’t want him to be a knight, but some privileges were impossible to withhold from a declared. And for a while, they had seen the process of him selecting what type of skill he wanted as another long period during which he might come to his senses.

Right now, if he had a question about The Maker of Narrow Ways, he could call on a magical theorist or the Contract itself for advice. The requests he could make for information and modifications weren’t limitless, but they were only limited by the nature of the skill and his peoples’ understanding of magic.

And by the pushback he’d get from everyone if he wanted something utterly impractical.

Most humans picked talent names from a list, with only the advice and experience of other Avowed guiding them. And it seemed like the Earth Contract sought to manage what they chose by providing less information on some talents than others.

Perhaps it was leveraging some aspect of human psychology. Granting a large number of options might improve their impression of it, but by making many of those options unknowns, it could still ensure that most Avowed would select from a smaller set of well-understood and more thoroughly defined abilities.

Or maybe wizards had created this problem by designing more abilities for humans than their Contract thought was helpful. It was easier to translate magic into talents for them than for most species. Spell impressions should be particularly simple. And then there were the special situations to consider. Groups that had a need for Avowed with specific abilities. Powerful individuals who spent a decade creating an eccentric skill and then used their political influence to make sure it was listed even though nobody else thought it should be.

The reasons don’t really matter.

It still meant some people would choose their bindings almost blindly, no doubt hoping for a great result from the random outcome.

The thought made Stu feel like he’d swallowed an oontsy and it was trying to find its way back out of his stomach.

And even when humans did know what they were choosing, what they were choosing from was so imperfect.

If Alden had a year and the knowledge he needed to choose the best skill on the Earth Ryeh-b’t list, it would still be so much less than he should have. It’s not fair.

There were reasons not to give all Avowed the kind of powers and resources knights had. Stu knew those reasons. But tonight, thinking of Alden, they seemed so weak.

And so shitty.

******

Am I awake, or is this a twist in the nightmare?

Alden had just made it to Chayklo with Kibby, then his eyes had snapped open in his bed in the dark cottage to the sight and sound of a bipedal shadow monster scurrying around the room. He lay there in his hot tangle of covers, breath held as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“Are you some kind of demon?” he asked. “Or are you Stuart running around in the middle of the night with a bunch of cushions?”

The shadow monster froze in the act of bending down to collect more cushions from right beside the bed, and Alden reached to turn on the lamp above him.

“You’re Stuart,” he said, blinking at the Artonan crouching there with two cushions held against his chest. “What are you doing?”

Stuart glanced left, then right, before finally meeting Alden’s eyes. “I was trying to move these back to where they belong before you woke up.”

“Why?”

“So that you wouldn’t know I had put them under the bed.”

“Were you sleeping down there? Was your senva seed spell not comfortable?”

“No,” Stuart said. “I wasn’t sleeping on them.”

Maybe I’m not awake enough to understand.

“You were having a nightmare,” Stuart said finally. “I was worried that you’d fall out of bed and the impact would wake you before the dream cycle finished, diminishing its value and making your trial for the night fruitless.”

Dammit. Alden felt himself flush. “I woke you up. Sorry.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“Was I screaming or something?” That was so embarrassing. “Maybe you should start sleeping in your room when I’m visiting.”

“I left the cottage as soon as I’d placed the cushions. When I returned from my walk a moment ago, you were quiet. I thought if I moved the cushions back, you wouldn’t feel awkward.”

“I feel so awkward.”

“That’s because you just woke up and caught me doing something unusual,” said Stuart. “Go back to sleep. When you wake again and everything is as normal, you’ll see that nothing embarrassing has happened. Olorn Mom says sun chases away the fog of night.”

He dropped the cushions back onto the floor beside the bed before he stood.

Alden’s groggy brain pieced together the story while Stuart got settled on his senva mattress across the cottage. “Thanks.”

“You would help me in the same way, wouldn’t you? Sleep well.”

It took him some time to drift off again. Eventually the quiet sound of the door sliding caught his attention, and he saw Stuart’s shadow standing there for a moment, then leaving the cottage.

He wasn’t sure if the Artonan had really gone, or if it was the beginning of a normal dream.

******

Alden was dressed in his school uniform before sunrise, which wasn’t that impressive considering the time difference between here and Anesidora right now. There, it was around noon on the first day of finals week.

Stuart was still out of it, wrapped up like a burrito on the floor by the table, where one of yesterday’s husenot towers stood.

This was the last day of Welcome End. Alden wasn’t going to be here for most of it. The big event, for Stuart, was a phone call from his Father. After addressing the people who were about to become knights, the Primary was going to talk to his family.

On Thegund, Alis-art’h was right next door, as far as outer space went, making time-delayed messages a simple option unless someone needed their conversation with her to be instantaneous. But Jeneth-art’h was so far away that talking to him directly using magic was the best means of communication. Stuart was looking forward to it.

It’s still awkward that I had such a rough nightmare I woke you up, Alden thought, looking down at him. Flailing around and yelling about bokabvs in front of someone else isn’t ever going to make me feel like I’m cool.

Stuart hadn’t been entirely wrong, though. Alden’s embarrassment was much milder than he would have imagined it being if someone had told him yesterday that it was going to happen.

When we first started talking, I would have bet you’d be terrible at making someone feel better after something like this. Stuart sharing Artonan opinions about planetary takeovers and whether or not Anesidora was trying to breed stronger Avowed during that first phone call was hard to forget. I was wrong about you there.

He decided to go take a look in the kitchen at the main house, to see if getting their breakfast would be easy enough for him to manage on his own. It should be doable, and it would keep Stuart from running into family members who’d give him a hard time.

A couple of minutes later, he was approaching the back of the house.

I’ll grab the human-safe food basket, he thought. That’s obviously set aside for me, so nobody’s going to be mad it’s missing. And Stuart can eat it, too.

He entered through the narrow room adjacent to the kitchen that had the glass wall and all the plants, where he and Stuart had run into the assistants prepping food one morning. The assistants weren’t there right now, but Emban was sitting at a table with the identical twins who were Alis-art’h’s daughters.

This is good. They’re not the most difficult members of the family to talk to at all.

Their conversation paused as they glanced his way.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m glad to see you, Emban. I came to get something for our first meal.”

“There are crosswater noodles on the stove,” one of the twins said. “You can take one to Stu. He likes them.”

Alden had no clue what crosswater noodles were, but after a brief look around the kitchen, he only found a couple of pots on the stove. One was full of grain tea, and the other held translucent tubes. They were more like foot-long sections of garden hose than spaghetti, but that would explain why the twin had suggested he take Stuart one noodle instead of some noodles.

They smelled sort of sweet. The gremlin disapproved.

I guess if Stuart likes them…

Searching the kitchen for a container to hold one of the tubes made him wonder if he might be chastised for prying into the secrets of the art’h family cabinets, so he found himself rummaging very quietly. Which made the voices of the three young women next door easier to understand.

“…terrifying for a waterslide, but Ryada was right. They bonded over it.”

“Suma from the second Rapport has grown up well, hasn’t she? I met her recently and was surprised.”

“Yes. She was such a little <<scaredy-scaredy>> when she was a child that I never guessed she would choose this. But…”

“It’s been a good weekend. I’m glad we could be here for it this year. Did you hear that someone is changing to Doubtful Footing? I’m curious to see that skill in use. And the ithen triplets are so delightful together. I’m glad they’ll have one another, after all.”

“What about…?”

They’re talking about Welcome End. And all the Rapport declared who will soon be knights.

Alden grasped one of the sections of edible garden hose with a set of tongs and dropped it into the large to-go bowl he’d finally found.

This was a simple conversation. Expected. Pleasant, even.

Wasn’t it great to hear a bunch of people going to their first affixations had bonded, chosen well, and had a good weekend together? Wasn’t it great that they’d all have each other’s support and brotherhood in the future?

Of course it is.

He poured grain tea into mugs.

He found himself moving slower, to listen more. But as he listened more, he began to feel like the good news they were sharing was cutting into him. Really slowly and subtly. Like an invisible spoon scraping away at something he shouldn’t allow to be damaged.

Lids clicked onto the mugs and bowls. His steps seemed to echo as he made his way over to get the human basket.

He stood in the cold pantry, staring at it on its shelf.

Stuart will never have this weekend back and all these things he wanted.

That’s what the spoon’s scraping away at.

Stuart had explained why he didn’t want to try to insert himself at the group events this weekend. Alden had known what he meant. But he really felt it right now, listening to three young knights talk about good things.

Okay. That’s how it is. How it’s been for ages. Can’t change it, so I just need to get back to the cottage with breakfast and keep his mind off it.

He grabbed the basket, dropped the bowl and the mugs into it, and strode out of the pantry. Through the kitchen. Through the adjacent room with the tables. To the door—

“You sent Ryada a message,” said Emban.

Stopping, he faced her and the twins.

“I did. I sent you and Bithe messages, too.”

“I know.” Emban’s smile was strained. “But you must have sent her something more than your gratitude and an invitation to throw paper flyers. She won’t show me what it said, but she appreciated it very much. She’s mentioned it. More than once. Thank you for doing it. Has she replied to you yet?”

“Not yet.”

“She plans to,” said Emban. “Or maybe she decided to wait until you meet in person again.”

“I’m glad. I wanted…” I wanted her to know me. Just a little. “I hope she’s well.”

Emban nodded.

If it’s her, if she’s not one hundred percent focused on her squad today, and if she appreciates that I reached out to Ryada, then…

He hadn’t finished the thought and worked out if it was wrong to say something before that scraping feeling took advantage of the moment to make him speak. “It’s sad that Stu spent this whole Welcome End with a human he met this year instead of his family and the people he grew up with. For me, it was very fortunate because I got to spend time with him, and he’s wonderful. But for him…it’s really sad.”

Six eyes looking at him. No smiles. No sound. The basket in his hand was heavy, the handle rough.

He focused on Emban. She was wearing the braid she must have slept in; it hung long over her shoulder and looked more frayed than a fresh one.

You get it, right? he thought. Say something. Say you’ll help somehow. It means a lot to him that you don’t completely doubt him. Do any little thing to fix—

“Bithe shouldn’t have said what he said to you by the o’odee field,” said Emban. “He was wrong. But in general, not talking so much about things you don’t have complete knowledge of is good advice. We all understand what Stu wants better than a human ever could. And we know the shades of his sadness better than you ever will. You are very welcome here as his guest, and his soon-friend. He cherishes you. But this isn’t your world. There will always be things you can’t know about us. It’s something you’ll have to become accustomed to.”

 Oh.

“Emban,” one of the twins murmured, “the human was just expressing worry for our cousin.”

“I think she means…” said the other, “…that we appreciate…”

God.

Alden breathed. The air seemed to dive through his mouth into his lungs like a blade.

So.

“I apologize,” he said, “for interrupting your conversation. And for imagining that I could contribute to something this elevated with my weak human understanding. I thought saying, ‘Stu feels sad because he’s left out of everything,’ was basic enough for me, but I should have gone even simpler. Let me try again. My friend is upset. Everyone thinks they’re being reasonable, but to the human, it looks like a bunch of people have been pushing him just a little more day after day, so that they didn’t even notice when they stopped being reasonable and started being mean-mean.”

He fled before any of them could answer. And before more words could spill out of him.

Ouch.

I shouldn’t have said anything to the girl whose hoped-for soulmate is in bad shape.

Apparently.

But fuck.

He wanted to drop the basket and run. And run. On and on through the forest, until he miraculously found answers about himself under trees sacred to a culture that was not his own. Instead, he only walked swiftly down the hill in the dark, toward the safety of the cottage.

Emban found that part of me the spoon was scraping against and dug into it really good. That was so nice of her. Without her help, I might have gone on thinking I just felt sorry for Stuart.

Look at this gaping wound in my guts! It turns out the hurt is only half empathy for him.

The rest of it is all about me.

Welcome End wasn’t for Stuart.

And it wasn’t for humans either.

This isn’t your world. There will always be things you can’t know.

Seconds later, he entered the cottage a little too quickly and woke his host up.

“Hey! I brought you food.” He wanted to sound bright and unbothered. He thought he did. “There’s something called a crosswater noodle.”

“I like those,” Stuart said sleepily, looking up at him from the floor.

“You do? Great. I appreciate you looking out for me last night.”

“You’re talking fast.”

“I’ve been awake for a while,” said Alden. “That’s all. You want grain tea? I brought grain tea, too.”

TWO HUNDRED FIFTY-FIVE

A Heavy Thing on One End

In a chilly classroom on the first floor of the MPE building, Alden sat in the corner in a plastic chair, taking an exam on Anesidoran power use laws and how not to be an idiot in the gymnasium. He was halfway through, in the middle of a true-or-false section, when a question finally made him stop focusing more on the situation at the siblinghold than on the test.

[22: Unscheduled street racing is legal in F-city as long as none of the participants exceed the speed limits of their street traffic licenses.]

Was this one covered in anything we read or talked about? I don’t remember racing specifically. Seems like a question for Winston and Finlay. Or Jeffy since he thought he could just jog in the middle of the highway without a license. Marsha would challenge someone to a spur of the moment race in traffic. Throw a spear through the back of a bus because she was trying to use it for a speed boost…

Should I have warned Stuart about what I said to Emban?

It wasn’t really a fight. I said something like, “Hey, think of what Stuart’s going through this weekend.” And she said, “You don’t understand anything, and shouldn’t speak about anything, human, because this isn’t your world.” And I said, “You suck, and you’re mean.”

Then I got out of there before she could respond.

Fine.

It was a very brief fight.

Just fighting with Emban-art’h in her own house first thing in the morning like a great, mature guest. In front of those twins who didn’t have much of an impression of me before now.

Stuart’s guest telling off the knight he’s playing votary for…that can’t possibly be viewed as good behavior. I bet I’m the worst guest ever in siblinghold history. What if they’re all scolding him about me now on top of everything else? I should’ve warned him before I left.

He started to text Stuart.

The System immediately reminded him he’d agreed not to use it for communication while he was taking this test.

Right. Test.

I’m being tested here in the world where I do belong. In this classroom where I do definitely belong. With all these people who would totally still think I was one of them if I stood up right now and announced I was a wizard.

They wouldn’t start behaving differently around me at all.

He did think Lute and Haoyu might take it in stride. And Kon could fake handling it well so that Alden would never be sure if he was really ill at ease about it or not.

Would Lexi make me move out of our apartment, or would I just feel guilty when he started packing his own bags and move myself out for him?

Of course, that was assuming the Artonans let human wizards stay on Earth, attending human schools. Then he had to assume that human schools allowed wizard students. He looked at Instructor Klein, who was standing at the front of the room, watching them all with a gaze so stony it made Alden suspect himself of cheating.

How would he treat me if I was someone who could summon him? Would he be scared I was an evil creep who’d retaliate against anyone who beat me in gym?

Why would anyone want to summon other people if those people weren’t willing to be summoned?

It’s wrong.

But if this classroom was being attacked by a supervillain and Klein was drinking a mock piña colada with his feet propped up on the teacher’s desk while Astrid had her arms ripped off, I’m sure I would be demanding that he help us. So I don’t completely reject every possi—

The stony gaze landed on him.

I should have imagined a different teacher ignoring student dismemberment and liking umbrella drinks. Neither suits him.

Alden stared at the test.

I’m losing it. I barely remember my answers on the first twenty-one questions. That’s because they were so easy I could do them without really thinking.

Isn’t it?

I wasn’t just selecting at random…

He went back through the previous questions. They all seemed right.

When he returned to number twenty-two, he decided the word “unscheduled” was a clue, so he marked it false and moved along.

[23: Anesidoran law enforcement officers may ask to know my Avowed talents for any reason, and I am required to answer.]

That’s false.

He made himself finish up quickly after that so that he could go send Stuart a message. But when he stood in the hall, on the verge of issuing the warning, it seemed like a worse idea. If Emban and the twins were already complaining to Stuart about his guest, there was no point, and if they weren’t planning to complain at all, then Alden would be taking Stuart’s mood down a few notches and distracting him right before the call from his father.

Fine. No confessing to this morning’s incident unless he brings it up.

Maybe Emban and the twins understood me, and they’re making things better for Stuart at this very moment.

Seems unlikely.

Even this long after the encounter, there was an energy in his body he didn’t want. It wasn’t clearly anger or hurt anymore, but it was negative. Like the remnants of those two feelings buzzing through him, making him tightly wound.

He let his feet strike the floors sharply, slapped his locker door shut a little harder than necessary after he collected his gear, and dropped his duffel bag from more of a height than usual onto a bench in the locker room.

“Alden, how did you do?” Haoyu asked. He was already in the gray unitard and protective cuffs, on his way out to join Lexi and other early exam finishers on the gym floor.

“Ninety-eight,” said Alden. “I was distracted, and I misread one of the questions.”

“Good job. I got a ninety-six.”

“How did you get a lower grade than me? You’ve lived here your whole life.”

“I didn’t study for this one. My others are going to be a lot harder, so I’ve been focusing on them. I feel like I’ve seen loads of people having races on the streets without being punished. Who would have guessed that was illegal?”

“Vandy’s still taking it,” said Alden. “I thought she’d be one of the first done.”

“She goes back over everything several times when she takes tests. She never finishes first. Max, though—he finished so fast that when he stood up I thought he must need to go to the bathroom, not that he’d answered all fifty questions….See you in a minute. By the way, I already looked in the gym. They’re set up for one-on-ones.”

“Yeah? Okay. See you soon.”

Duels.

I was hoping we wouldn’t do duels again until Friday.

Alden stepped into the stall he usually used for getting dressed. There was a space for changing, then the shower. Someone had written, “Elites Can’t Fix You Wormkicker,” on the wall above the towel bar. Alden didn’t know who Wormkicker was, but he took this as evidence that other classes were being stupid about Elites, too.

Just let the people who are going to go, go. Let the people who are going to stay, stay. Keep gym hours fair. Be at peace, you rank-obsessed essholes.

He wondered if this was creating so much drama because too many of the school’s S-ranks had never missed a step on their way to the top.

You want the best rank, and you get the best rank. You want a certain class, and you get a certain class. You want CNH hero program, and CNH welcomes you with open arms.

Then another school invents an even specialer tier of education and doesn’t invite you.

I know it’s more complicated than that. Everyone’s got their goals and reasons. But they’ve been acting like Li Jean insulted their entire way of life instead of rejecting them.

…I wouldn’t mind beating Febri in a duel right now.

That was out of reach. He couldn’t even beat Mehdi yet. Agility Brutes weren’t fun opponents for someone who’d mostly been coming up with different ways to trip people and hurl things at them. Febri could shift position instantaneously, and Mehdi could sense incoming attacks. They were never where Alden needed them to be to land a solid hit. He still didn’t have the best sense of what was normal for new Avowed of every type, but Lexi and Haoyu both thought the two Agis were above average duelists for their age. And having Klein right in front of them all the time wasn’t hurting their understanding of how to use their class.

Febri’s not who I’m supposed to beat anyway.

Unless the instructors were going to be blatantly unfair about the match-ups, they had to put Alden up against Winston in this class. Once Winston showed up. He was still testing.

Did Max really get him to say he’d move out of their apartment if I beat him? That’s nuts.

He’d have to say it in front of other people for it to work. Otherwise he’d just go back on his word. I haven’t heard anything about it lately. Maybe Max changed his mind or didn’t get it done?

[Alden: Hey, Max. I’m supposed to be trying my best to beat Winston today, aren’t I? For our agreement.]

Max must have been mid-duel; it took him a minute to answer.

[Max: Yes.]

[Max: Don’t you want to anyway?]

There were many reasons to want to.

He picked on Lucille for views. He told everyone Esh-erdi was paying attention to me because I begged to be his octagon waxer. He refused to apologize after asking me to watch an apology video.

[Alden: I’ll do what I can. I’ve been practicing.]

******

last week

******

“Look at us. Two Apexian bros chillexin’ together, stepping into North of North like the famous people do. I wish I was a rich kid. If Tina, Royce, and I had memberships here we wouldn’t have needed that boom room at Apogee!”

“They don’t have iron maidens or tarantulas here,” said Alden, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake when he selected his practice partner for the day. “And I’m positive you aren’t allowed to bring in your own.”

Liam Long wanted to train his powers, and Alden wanted a Winston substitute to attack him for several hours. Liam was a Speed Brute about Winston’s size. He was a B-rank; but he was a decade older than Winston, and he hadn’t slacked on the leveling. He might have insights. He was also available whenever. It seemed like a decent idea.

Bobby met the two of them in a training room she’d prepped. She’d dyed her short gray hair a Christmassy green since the last time Alden saw her.

“You’re great,” he said, after looking around the place and seeing how she’d gotten it ready for them. “I didn’t give you much warning, and I was worried I explained what I wanted to try wrong.”

“You’re not my most complicated client.” Bobby clapped him on the arm before turning to Liam. “Hello. You must be Mr. Long. I’m going to need you to sign a waiver, and I’ll have to go over a few rules with you. Standard procedure. Alden, check out the weapons I made for you, and see if you want anything else.”

He set down his bags.

Bobby had taped off a rectangle on the rubbery tan floor to mark an area the size of the dueling blocks that Alden’s teachers usually created for one-on-ones. The room itself wasn’t too different in size from the larger blocks they’d used a time or two. The CNH faculty could have Alden fight Winston in a giant circle, a tiny square, or across the whole MPE gymnasium if they wanted, but there was a better chance the space would be something like this.

Bobby had also gone ahead and prepped safety versions of the weapon idea he wanted to try. She had different lengths of thin red sticks laid out, with a white foam ball stuck on one end of each and a larger foam block stuck on the other.

Alden picked up the nearest stick. It was about four feet long. He swung it like the block end was a hammer a couple of times. He jabbed with the ball end. He held it over his head and tried to give it a fast twirl with three fingers.

He dropped it.

He picked it up and tried again.

“Those will break like they’re made of straw,” Bobby said as she finished up with Liam and came over to watch him. “So don’t worry when they fly apart. It’s better than you catching Liam here across the neck with something that could hurt him. I’ll be putting together some more for you as we go. How do you like them?”

“Pretty good,” said Alden. “It’s hard to picture what it will actually be like with a serious weight on one side. So I’ll need to try some realer versions. Without attacking anyone, obviously. Maybe I could do that in a hologram room later? And as weird as this is to say because they’re so light, they might be a little too heavy. To mimic the way I wanted to…”

He held his hand out with the stick between two fingers and twitched them to make the ends of it whip back and forth quickly. “On second thought…maybe it’s not too heavy. Maybe I’m just clumsy.”

“You’re going to hit yourself in the face a lot today,” Bobby predicted.

“I am not! Three or four times at most.”

“I feel obliged to tell you that a speedy A your age can probably be beaten without that fancy twirling you were trying a second ago. I like that you want to leverage one of your assets in a new way, so let’s definitely work with these.” She waved her own index fingers. “Cool stuff. Anyone can twitch a pen so fast it blurs, and you’re better than normal with your hands, so I’m sure you can eventually learn to control the way something like this is blurring. But the most effective move with them for the duel you’ve got coming up might just be a simple flick in the right direction at the right time.”

Alden thought about it. “Won’t getting used to manipulating things with my fingers in all kinds of ways help me execute that perfect flick when the time comes? Until I’m in the fight, I won’t know if I need to flick what I’m holding up, down, behind me…”

“True. You’ll have to practice with your hands a lot if this is something you want to make a part of your arsenal,” said Bobby. “I’ve never actually trained anyone for lethal finger flicks, but I know it’s going to take time to form those hand-brain connections that will help you know how a tiny twitch at the center of a big, unusual baton affects what’s going on at the ends. More time than you have. But, on the bright side, you’re not preparing yourself to fight one of the world’s finest superheroes next week. Some control and a little thought might take you a long way against a peer. Let’s find out what you can do right now and go from there.”

Alden nodded and turned to see Liam watching the two of them. He was retying the drawstrings on his bright red shorts.

“I’m going to make you both wear padding,” Bobby said. “Liam, don’t actually try to hit Alden even though he’s got safety equipment. You’re too much of a Brute for me to feel good about that, so just go for light tags. He will try to hit you with these toys I made because they’ll just sting. I feel like this is all obvious, but if you start smacking into each other in a way that looks dangerous we’ll cut this short.”

“All right! Are we being recorded?” Liam asked eagerly. “Are you going to show us replays?”

“Yes,” said Bobby. “If neither of you has a problem with it, the room records from multiple angles so I can reference the video to show you what you might want to work on.”

They put on the padding and had a couple more minutes of discussion about what they’d be doing. Liam asked some questions about how Alden’s skill worked to make sure he understood it. Then, they stood at either end of their taped-off dueling block.

“Sixty seconds?” Bobby asked, raising a whistle to her mouth.

“They do sixty or ninety a lot,” Alden answered. He pointed the ball on the end of his weapon toward Liam. He swung it, imagining a different Brute about to run at him. “So that’s fine.”

The whistle blew.

Liam Long took two steps.

“Crap,” said Alden, his nerves spiking as soon as he realized how Liam was going to approach their first duel. “I mean, this is perfectly fair. Of course. But I’m hoping the fight next week will be against a dumber speedster.”

******

now

******

[Alden: Haoyu, would you please entrust me with this temper sphere in my left fist?]

Haoyu had just finished a duel with Everly. He waved across the gym, and Alden waved back from where he stood in the practice area the instructors always set aside on duel days, holding a temper sphere in one hand and his best sling in the other.

[Haoyu: I entrust!]

Alden dropped the sphere into his sling’s pouch, secured it in a way that would have been detrimental if he actually planned to use it as a sling stone, and spun it like he was planning to take the head off the dummy in front of him.

This stone is under my control. It’s going really fast now. And…I agree to bear the burden of it. Not a switch on and off, but enfolding it with my skill. Which is myself.

Like this.

He was trying to think right when he had time to think right. Today, it seemed important for another reason.

Stuart wants to have a skill. I do understand what that’s like. I really do.

Alden put the preserved temper sphere in the utility pouch he wore around his waist. Several other temper spheres were in there. Another pouch beside it was full of sand.

He didn’t plan to use the sphere on Winston. It would be for whoever he dueled first if they weren’t Winston. Now he needed to focus on preparing his weapon for the speedster.

And as for weapons…Foxbolt kept glancing at him when she wasn’t monitoring duels.

She’s probably wondering if I need her permission to upgrade my options. To something like a million argold cannon.

She clearly had opinions about the S-ranks getting extra classes next term.

Just going to follow the original rules for this one, Instructor. No giant cannon.

On Thanksgiving, when Alden was trying to explain to Winston that he was a stupid dickhead for spreading lies about Esh-erdi and Alden on the internet, the speedster had shouted that Alden hadn’t really beaten him in a fair fight during the obstacle course because he’d used a trick.

Apparently, in Winston’s mind, Alden decapitating him with a fishing line he hadn’t known about was cheating.

So if I do anything he can possibly convince himself is cheating this time, he’ll go back on his deal with Max. And he seems to be able to convince himself of some advanced nonsense.

He walked over to one of the piles of supplies they were all allowed to use.

I want to keep it very basic for you, Winston, so that you know for sure you’ve been defeated.

Max is my fellow B-rank. Finlay is good company in science class. Jeffy trusts me to help him pick spell impressions. I will cleanse you from their apartment. Like a holy robovacuum.

Some of the fifty kilo sandbags had a nice chunky shape, like fat marshmallows instead of sausages. Alden settled on one of those.

If he’d been more confident, he might have gone with a very small weight. He knew he really ought to take Winston down in a single blow—an accurate headshot so that there was no opportunity for retaliation. The temper sphere in his pouch could work. But accuracy was hard when the other person was faster than you and knew you were coming for them.

He might only manage a glancing blow. A glancing blow that weighed over a hundred pounds was better.

I’d have liked another week to practice.

He tied up the bag with fluorescent orange paracord. This would be the head of his mace. He looped a single strand of thread through the cord and knotted it before moving on to making the handle.

Four feet. Five. Six?

The different lengths he’d experimented with had been equal amounts of useful and difficult to manage when he was practicing. He decided on four feet of survival paracord, with an additional foot and a half of the fishing line tugged out of the sheath on one end. He tied the other end to the thread loop he’d left on the fifty kilo weight.

“So what are you going with?”

Alden turned to see Max standing behind him. His dark eyes were scanning the weapon. He wore a slight frown.

“This is a very lightweight, four-foot-long stick with a heavy thing on one end and a pointy thing on the other,” said Alden.

“Is that too simple?”

“Maybe it is. But there’s not even the tiniest chance Winston can say I cheated this way, so if I do win, you’ll win. We’re going to see if I’m more skillful with this thing I’ve cooked up recently than he is with…his whole body that he’s been working with all term. I just performed the wordchain that gives me better control over my body, so that’ll narrow the gap significantly. But…”

“That wordchain is gold.”

“It is,” Alden agreed. “I’m trying to learn a mild speed booster from my roommate, too. That would have been useful, but I don’t have it down yet. You know what you asked me to do is hard, don’t you? Me not losing to Winston would have been easy. Me beating him without doing anything he’ll define as an unsportsmanlike trick for his own convenience is harder. And I don’t know what he thinks is the best way to fight me today. He’s known this was coming, too.”

He thought about Liam Long. He looked around the room to make sure Winston hadn’t arrived yet. “You know how he should fight me, right? There are a lot of people in our class who duel me incorrectly, but they haven’t had to figure it out yet because they can win even if they’re making a ton of mistakes.”

Max crouched beside him. “Which of your weaknesses are you thinking about?”

“You’re asking that like you’ve already made a list of my flaws, and you want to make sure you don’t reveal any of the items on it to me.”

Max smiled.

“Never mind,” said Alden. “I can say something to him that will probably make him take the wrong approach even if he knows better. He still has an out-of-control competitive urge toward Finlay, doesn’t he? He didn’t suddenly get over that this past weekend?”

“On Saturday, Winston timed Finlay’s shower.”

“Uh…”

“So that he could tell his followers exactly how slow Finlay is in the shower.”

“I see,” Alden said. “Thank you for sharing that intel.”

“You seem tense” Max noted. “That’s normal under the circumstances. You know he plans to make you look as bad as possible if you give him the upper hand, don’t you? With all the instructors being stricter because of how duels went last time, he can’t be too out of line on the floor, but if you lose, he’ll refer to your loss every thirty seconds until we’re all in uni.”

“I am pretty tense.” Not about Winston.

“Let it all out in the fight.” Max stood. “It won’t last long.”

*******

TWO HUNDRED FIFTY-SIX

A Pointy Thing on The Other

[Dueling Block 6]

[Opponent: Olive, Adjuster - A]

[Incapacitate your opponent.]

[Kills: Allowed]

“Lexi, could you keep an eye on my project for the next minute or two? If you don’t get called to your own duel.”

Writher was slicing away at one of the target dummies. Lexi didn’t glance in Alden’s direction when he responded. “I will.”

“Appreciate it.”

Alden wasn’t worried about sabotage, but other people in the practice area got klutzy with their powers sometimes.

All right. Olive.

He headed toward the dueling block, pulling up a random number generator as he went. He made it pick out of six. It landed on five. That meant Alden would be pretending to be fooled by the Fake Olive on the right to start their fight, and he was allowed to find Real Olive with his second attack. He was always allowed to hit Real Olive if she made herself obvious in some way.

This was how he was keeping his abnormal Olive-identification powers in check.

Three of her stood at their end of the dueling block, jaws set and pink baseball bats raised in exactly the same way.

“Hi, Olive.”

She didn’t reply of course.

Alden took four temper spheres out of his pouch, two in each hand, and held them up. She ignored them.

Things have been changing fast.

He remembered throwing a single temper sphere at Tatiana Evans during that combat assessment duel. It hadn’t been much of a pitch really.

But one of these is a heck of a pitch.

And with the wordchain…

“Let’s have a nice duel, Block 6!” Foxbolt said from where she stood outside the barrier, a couple of paces behind Olive, to monitor their block and a neighboring one.

The timer in front of Alden’s eyes counted down.

Soon…

[90 second duel]

[START]

The Olives ran at him.

He pitched a regular sphere as hard as he could through the one on the right and saw it pass through the illusion as he flung another one toward the real girl on the left. It pinged off the bat she raised in front of her face.

Alden ran forward to meet her, watching the bat. It drew back.

Let her swing. Duck it. Pop right back up.

Olive swung high. For his head. That made ducking easier.

Attack.

He thrust his left hand toward her face before she’d recovered from the full-power swing. There was visual confusion from the other illusions being right on top of them. He kept his eyes on the real one as she flinched away from his approaching hand, then he whipped his right hand up to release the preserved sphere.

Transparent stickers he’d put on it before placing it in the sling earlier let him feel instantly that he had it turned the correct way. It wasn’t impossible to tell without them, but in the heat of a fight, the stickers helped.

Alden let the sphere go an inch from Olive’s forehead.

He was a little surprised that it shattered. He felt the muted sting of shards against his skin. She shouted and collapsed backward, stiff-suited, her bat rolling across the floor.

Their duel had only lasted seconds. He wasn’t breathing hard.

The notification of his victory was followed by one for the damage he’d dealt. If this had been a real battle, Olive would have a dire brain injury.

He looked down at her. Her light brown ponytail was fanned out on the floor by her face. Her eyes were screwed shut, and she looked like she was grinding her teeth.

“Good duel,” Alden said. Most people were in the habit of saying that or “good fight” now.

Like a darker version of “good game” after a baseball match. We’ve even got the balls and bat here for this one.

He wanted to offer Olive a hand up, but she wasn’t opening her eyes. “Your illusions are always so cool,” he said.

Still not opening her eyes.

He glanced at Foxbolt. The instructor noticed him, looked at Olive, and then waved him away with one hand.

He jogged across the block to get the temper spheres he’d thrown. If the shards were a problem for the next duelists, Foxbolt could order the gym to sweep them off the floor.

Olive was sometimes a good sport when she lost and sometimes not so much. Alden imagined he was one of the few people she really hoped to beat in a fight like this. Especially since she’d gotten permission to use the bat.

She could have beaten me if we’d fought two months ago. It would have been harder for me today without the wordchain.

Things were changing fast.

As he grabbed the last temper sphere, Foxbolt shouted, “Nice double illusion, Olive! Let’s see you on your feet!”

Olive got on her feet promptly at that, but she didn’t look at Alden once after picking up her bat.

He watched her slouch away.

Well, this one did nothing for my tension.

And…there he is.

Alden looked through a block where Everly was on the run from Sanjay, trying to buy herself enough time to complete the spell that would put an ice patch on the floor. Beyond them, Winston Heelfeather was breezing into the gym like someone who planned to post footage of his entrance later tonight. His smile was easy, and his fingers were running through his blond hair as if it just happened to need a ton of tousling. He’d ditched his sunglasses and his custom sweatbands. Alden assumed there would eventually be a new self-branded accessory to replace them.

His celebrity arrival didn’t take him too long, and Alden, watching it, saw the moment when he stopped thinking more about cameras than everything else in the huge gym. The smile vanished. His eyes turned sharper.

They found Alden so fast that it seemed unlikely it was happenstance.

Alden spun and headed back toward the practice area. He didn’t want a staring contest.

Looks like his mind is on what’s coming up, too.

His tension coiled itself a little tighter.

I really don’t want to lose. Not to him. Not today.

******

Alden didn’t think he’d have time to improve much about his weapon. One or two tweaks at most. He focused on the balance point. He preferred for it to be close to the center of the handle. With Haoyu’s help as an entruster, he preserved the weapon, lifted it to check the weight, and lowered it. Every time he set it back down he was wrapping a little duct tape around the paracord on the lighter end, just above the spot where the fishing line stuck out.

The fourth time he did it and picked it back up, it seemed right. He carefully balanced the whole thing on two fingers, then one.

“Looks good,” Haoyu said. He was fresh from a duel with Kon. They’d both come over here to watch and encourage.

“Perching fifty kilos on your fingertip is impressive, Alden, but I can move a whole car with my spell. In case you didn’t remember.”

“Such an amazing dolphin-whale man,” said Haoyu. “And I just beat you again, so I’m even better.”

“I’m sea-saying when I cast, for your information. It’s an Artonan thing. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it. You don’t even drink from a magic cup.”

“Aren’t dolphins sea-saying, too?” said Haoyu.

Alden set his creation down very carefully and reached for a roll of blue painter’s tape.

“Why are you using two different kinds of tape?” Haoyu asked.

“I’m only using this one to mark the spot where it balances. So my fingers can find it easier. I like the texture of it better than the duct tape.”

Kon squatted beside him. “Should I be offended that you’ve never custom crafted a weapon to defeat me?”

Alden tore the tape from the roll. “If you want to practice against something you think I can do, you should tell me. I’ll try it.”

“You hear that, Haoyu? I can put in requests. Alden and I are besties now that we’ve explored another planet together.”

Haoyu bent over on Alden’s other side.

“Fifty-kilo bonker,” he said, pointing at the weighted end.  Next, he pointed at the thread that held the weight and handle together. “This lets the bonker fly free?”

“Yes. As long as I have any kind of grip on the handle when I let preservation drop, that will snap. It keeps me from losing my whole entrusted object when I do that.”

“Skinny little handle,” said Haoyu, tracing the line of the paracord with a finger then stopping at the fishing line. “Invisible blade.”

“It’s not quite a blade considering how my skill works, but it is hard to see.”

“What do you call it all together?”

“I don’t know. Spear mace? Death baton? Winsterminator?”

“The last one,” said Kon.

“I vote for the last one, too.”

“Maybe we can honor it with that name if I win.”

“Don’t say ‘if’ say ‘when’,” Haoyu commanded.

“Right…when.”

A notification sprang up in front of his eyes as if his interface was answering him.

[Dueling Block 1]

[Opponent: Winston, Speed Brute - A]

[Incapacitate your opponent.]

[Kills: Allowed]

Alden didn’t realize he’d gone still until Kon said, “Did you get the block assignment?”

“Your expression changed,” said Haoyu.

“I got it.”

They moved a step back to give him room. He carefully pulled the paracord handle as straight as he could.

“Take up your weapon.” Haoyu deepened his voice. “It is time.”

******

last week

******

Alden bent over to pick up yet another thin red stick he’d accidentally sent flying across the room. He wanted to fall down beside it instead.

Liam Long claimed he was getting a good workout, too, but the Brute was still moving just as easily as he had when they started an hour and a half ago. And he was talking so fast while he asked Bobby if she had acquired secret leveling tips from any of her most powerful clients.

She was telling him good levelers were people who stayed motivated and found what worked for them.

“Near death experiences—”

“Are very overrated, Liam,” Alden interrupted. “I leveled fast on Thegund, in chaos. Strengthening your ability to do magic by a few levels isn’t worth it if there’s a chance you won’t survive the experience. Or if you end up so damaged by it that you need years to recover. Go for another method.”

“Listen to Alden,” Bobby said. “He knows what he’s talking about.”

Liam ought to know what I’m talking about, too, after last month. Was one night spent almost dying with his brother and sister not a long enough time period to make a permanent impression on him?

Alden straightened. “Bobby, have you got half an hour’s worth of stuff to explain to me while I have that expensive drink I ordered?”

“I’ve got half a lifetime worth of advice to share with you. Ready for your break now?”

He nodded.

“Is this the break I can’t be around for?” Liam asked.

“It is. Sorry. The focus tool I’ve got should be used with just Bobby in the room. If you want to try out anything here that costs money while you’re waiting you can charge stuff to my account. You’re doing me a favor, so go for it.”

“I’ll probably just see if I can find any famous speedsters around and watch them train.”

Liam stripped off his padding and left.

Alden stepped over to his messenger bag to take out the box that held his study earring. “I could use this with him in the room,” he confessed. “But I was worried he’d make some random comment, my brain would absorb it too well, and it would become part of my subconscious forever.”

Bobby chuckled. “I’d better be careful what I say.”

A woman from the North of North health center showed up a couple of minutes later to deliver the personalized energy drink Alden had requested last night in preparation for today. It was a service they advertised that he’d never taken advantage of because of the price and the need to plan ahead.

It came in a black bottle with a prescription label, and it tasted gross. But he drained it and soon forgot the bitter flavor on his tongue thanks to the earring and Bobby, who was using video of the many brief encounters he’d just had with Liam to explain how he could improve.

“Is this the correct way to help you when you’re wearing that earring?” she asked at one point. “You’re not talking as much as usual. In fact, you’re not talking at all.”

Alden nodded slowly at her. “Oh…that’s right…I can ask you to explain more about anything.”

“Yes. Like always.”

Everything she’d said was so enlightening it was hard to choose. “The not moving my feet enough part?”

“Once you start trying to maneuver your weapon to meet his strikes, you have a tendency to keep your feet glued in one spot. Is it because you’re focusing too much on your hands right now?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Don’t leave half of your body out of the fight. You and I have been doing all that jumping practice and the parkour. Your feet are good movers, so I don’t want you to let them freeze when you’re under pressure with a weapon in hand. Look at this moment. You’re using your arms so much while your legs are refusing to budge.” She paused. “Let’s try something and see if the earring lets you learn while you’re in motion. I’ll run at you, and you’ll defend yourself with the baton. As I reach you, don’t just twirl your stick and swing your arms to block me. Force yourself to take a step at the same time. Any direction you want. Even a little bounce is fine. What we’re trying to do is remind your legs to stay involved no matter what you’ve got going on with your fingers.”

It turned out that the earring made Alden want to ponder everything too much for sparring. Instead of reacting to Bobby throwing a fist toward him, he just took in the way she was doing it. So they switched tactics, and she showed him how she thought he should have moved against one of Liam’s attacks while he watched her. Then he tried it on his own with and without the earring. Then she showed him again.

By the time Liam was due back, she was fascinated by the earring and trying to determine its potential uses. She made him sit down and watch one of the few bouts he’d won against the speedster three times, telling her new things he’d noticed after each viewing.

“Liam has a hard time not thinking of it as a mace,” he said after the last one. “Or a bat.”

“I think I know what you mean by that, but explain it to me for your own benefit.”

“He knows the big block on the end is just foam, and he knows it’s light enough for me to change its direction rapidly. He’s seen me twirl it really fast. But if I swing it at him with a big arm motion, like I’m using a club of some kind, he expects it to behave like one. And he expects me to move like I’m swinging something heavy.”

Alden watched the foam block catch Liam in the chest again.

When Liam came back into the room and Alden took the earring off, he thought, I can use something like that against Winston.

“Ready to go?” Liam asked. “I’m ready to go! Bobby, did you see anything I could improve while you were going through the videos? Alden, I’ll pretend to be a dumber speedster as many times as you need.”

“You can keep choosing between smart and dumb whenever you like,” said Alden. “It’s good practice for me both ways.”

“I still can’t believe a Celena North hero program student would run at you full throttle,” Liam said. “You explained how your skill worked, and the first thing I thought was, ‘Just go slow until the last second.’”

Alden sighed. Liam walking across the floor toward him like he was out for a stroll had been an unwelcome surprise during that first fight. Even though it was how Alden would have fought himself if he were a speedster.

When Alden dueled, he often had one dangerous shot of some kind, a net, or a rope. Super speed should be used for dodging his attack, or it should be used after the opponent had gotten under his guard, for the winning blow. Otherwise, it was something Alden tried to use against them.

“Nobody dies by walking slowly into a fishing line,” he said. “I just hope Winston doesn’t realize that.”

 ******

now

******

Big Snake nodded from a couple of blocks over as Alden approached with his weapon over his shoulder. A second later, Winston Heelfeather zipped by on his left so that he could enter the block a step ahead of him.

“You think a fifty kilo will be enough?” he asked, spinning to watch Alden approach. “This is our first real fight.”

Here we go.

“It is. I’m glad I’ve had so many chances to watch Finlay move before this one came up. I think it’s trained my eyes. You’re not going to look as fast to me as you did when I beat you last time.”

“You didn’t beat me.”

“I did. Everyone saw it. And you had a boost from Max when I did it, too. This time you’ll be even slower, so I like my chances.”

“You used a trick.” Winston’s tone was so affronted that Alden wondered if he actually believed himself. “Today’s fight is the only one that matters.”

Alden headed toward his end of the block.

“There’s some fishing line on one end of this big-ass mace!” he called. “And the head of the big-ass mace comes off if I want. I bet I can catapult it across the block at you before you can blink. Don’t say any of it’s a trick since you know it’s there!”

Was that enough? Seems light for smack talk, but I can’t bring myself to shout anything too rude in front of Big Snake. I don’t want him to think I’m a jerk.

It’s not impossible to do this even if Winston’s careful instead of careless. I’ll still have a chance.

His heart was pounding more than it had all class.

He turned around. Winston had gone extremely red.

Alden took a step back.

Jeez. Is that a vein popping on his forehead? He looks like he’s about to blow from just those few words.

How much does he hate me?

Enough to tag me in a half hour long apology video, apologize to everyone and Scotland, and leave out the one, absolutely reasonable thing I asked for.

“Why did you tell me you were going to apologize then not do it?” Alden asked.

They had eighteen seconds on the start timer.

“I did apologize.” Winston was taking up a position like a sprinter at the start of a race.

Alden held his weapon in two hands and took up his own starting position. Like Olive had in his first duel of the day, he tried to look like a batter waiting for a pitch. “Why are you lying to my face when we both know it’s a lie?”

“I. Apologized. To the people who needed apologies. And everyone’s over it but you,” Winston retorted. “But they’re about to see…you don’t matter. You’re a B-rank. And a Rabbit. This is a school for heroes. Even if you got lucky a few times, it isn’t your world.”

It isn’t my world?

The tension that had been building all day burst like a dam.

“Søren had it right.” Alden’s eyes locked onto the speedster. “You’re a nasty little fucker.”

[90 second duel]

[START]

******

Winston Heelfeather had been a member of the track team at his old school.

He hadn’t been the best member, but who would ever care about that again? Nobody.

That was how it worked once you were so far beyond others that they couldn’t even see your dust. Your weaknesses faded from memory. Fans came to you.

On the day the team had held that goodbye race for him, he’d started with his body in a position just like this, and he’d run, and not a single person could touch him.

Humans versus a superhuman.

It was a shame that S versus A was often the same way.

But today…in this fight…

He’d been watching so many videos of Alden’s duels. The Rabbit played around with weird tools, trying to come up with tricks and traps just like Max. To make up for his weakness.

Because he’s a B. He’s only a B. The System gave him a good skill, but he wasn’t strong enough for an A.

Winston had always considered himself a good person, but at this moment, he could admit that he wanted to look down on Alden Thorn from a rank above and a class beyond and show him what real, honest power looked like.

He has a weight. Not even one of the biggest weights. Must be worried about his skill wearing out. All I have to do is dodge it, and I’m faster.

I’m so much faster.

“You’re a nasty little fucker,” said Alden.

Bringing up Søren?! He hasn’t even managed to fire a shot like that one that took me out since then.

Who does Alden think he is?

Mehdi plays with him in duels. Rebecca beats him when she’s not trying out stupid stuff. I’m an A-rank, too.

Why is he staring at me like I’m the one beneath him?

Winston wasn’t using a weapon of any kind. He was going pure speedster, for when he told his fans about this. Pure Brute. A fair fight.

[90 second duel]

He was going to put his hand around a Rabbit’s neck and squeeze…

[START]

Winston blasted toward his victory with almost every bit of his speed.

He wasn’t hitting that damn fishing line again.

He wasn’t stupid.

Alden hadn’t even moved from his starting spot. He was just waiting there to swing his homemade club. Winston felt a rush as fast as his own feet at the sight. This was it. Exactly what he’d wanted all term. Such a simple, clearcut display of their powers.

Alden could hold a lot of weight. He could swing it with his human strength. But it didn’t even matter if he was using that wordchain that was practically doping today, because Winston knew he could dodge a human swinging a bat. He could dodge other A-rank Brutes swinging things at him most of the time.

Thank you for the fair fight.

Finally.

Redemption.

He’d stay up all night tonight, working out exactly how to describe this duel to his followers. And listening to the worst of his roommates pack his bags.

“You know how Max hasn’t been letting me record videos in the living room for you guys? Well, he and I had a little bet…” That was how his Trime post explaining that the Adjuster had moved out would start.

Almost there.

Alden was waiting.

Almost.

The Rabbit was just staring. Was he even going to respond?

There.

Alden was taking a couple of steps back? He’d suddenly moved his hands to the middle of his rope handle? Didn’t matter. He was swinging it like a bat!

Too slow! I see you.

Winston was going to go over where the arc of the swing would carry the fifty-kilo sandbag. His fans had been complaining that he attacked from below too much.

Kick him in the face. Pin him to the wall.

He jumped.

Then squeeze.

That was the plan. It was a great plan.

He was flying through the air, twisting his body for the kick.

Something wrong happened.

Very suddenly.

Faster than Winston could react.

******

He’s fast, thought Alden.

His weapon was so light in his hands it almost felt like it wasn’t there. The time for thinking was over. He just needed to keep his eyes open and move.

When he reaches the midpoint…

Winston had reached it.

Alden grabbed the blue painter’s tape on his handle, the balanced spot, between the index and middle finger of his right hand. He closed his fist to hide the grip, then he took a couple of steps to wake up his legs for whatever was about to happen.

He kept pretending he was swinging a bat…one that could be something other than a bat any instant now.

Trust the practice.

Trust the wordchain to help you do what you can do sometimes.

Winston was jumping. Smirking.

There.

Alden’s feet and arms moved. His wrist and fingers twitched.

And Winston Heelfeather crashed feet first into a sandbag that had just altered its course, flawlessly, at the speed of that twitch.

Get him!

Winston hit the floor. He was rolling backward, about to get his feet under him again.

Alden sprang toward his enemy. He had already snapped his wrist back, moving the handle of his weapon so that the heavy sandbag was behind him.

GET HIM!

He flicked it forward again as fast as he could, not questioning what his right arm and his fingers were doing, aiming without thinking about aiming, releasing preservation at the moment his eyes said the black blur of the bag was about to meet Winston’s body.

There was a boom when it hit.

Not a huge one. Not one louder than Alden’s own yell as he preserved what was left of the weapon and pounced on Winston’s crumpled form. He was kicking the speedster over onto his back so hard his foot throbbed, trying to get the fishing line in a position so that when Winston sat up it would poke out one of his eyes and give him a blinding penalty and then Alden would be able to—

The victory notice flashed huge in front of his eyes at that moment, while he was waving the fishing line tip back and forth like he was trying to scratch Winston’s nose with it.

“No. I’m not done,” he said, even though his arm had frozen as soon as the notice appeared.

He stared down, analyzing what was in front of him.

Winston was lying there open-mouthed with his legs and arms bent like…

Like he was trying to come out of that roll and get on his feet, and I broke his neck with a hundred pound chunk of accelerated sand, instantly stiff-suiting him.

“You died? I was expecting to have to move around a lot more. And swing a few times. I didn’t want to have to, but I thought I would. You know…”

Alden backed away and let his cord go limp again so that he wouldn’t look like he was thinking of using a weapon after seeing the victory notice.

He scanned the gym and caught sight of Kon and Haoyu, still together in the practice area, pointing at him and jumping up and down, though they didn’t have the bad manners to scream, “Alden beat Winston!” out loud.

Max was in a dueling block, facing off against Astrid. He’d have to watch the whole thing on video later.

I’ll have to, too. It was so fast I don’t quite know what I did.

So much practice and planning…for a few seconds of the real thing.

Winston’s legs unfolded as his suit released him.

“Good duel,” Alden said. He took a breath. Ah. I won. “Yeah. Good duel. I liked that one.”

He looped the paracord through one of the handles on the sandbag and picked it up. Winston was still lying on the floor when he left the block.

TWO HUNDRED FIFTY-SEVEN

To Belong

As the end of MPE approached, Alden hadn’t shaken off all his stress, but the reactions of other students to his Winston fight were surprising him in a a good way.

The faculty had avoided pairing him and the speedster for the duels that took place right after Thanksgiving, even though they should have been randomly assigned to fight each other more than once before now. Of course the others had noticed that. But because Alden had been away or studying so often during periods when he could have been socializing with them, he hadn’t realized how many of them had been waiting to see how the matchup went. And, it turned out, rooting for him to do well.

Even one person who he would have thought might want to see him lose.

“Why won’t you fight me with a serious weapon like that?” Reinhard complained while he watched Alden try to put together a new Winsterminator in the practice area. Lexi had ended the first one’s career in an explosion of sand when Writher sliced open the bag. “I wouldn’t have any problem with you if you fought me like that.”

You would still have problems with me every time I won, Alden thought.

Reinhard had good qualities. He also had a tendency to bury them under his bad qualities when things weren’t going his way.

“You’re one of the only other people in class I’ve made a custom weapon for. And it worked. Which is proof it was a serious weapon even if it looked a little funny.”

So funny Alden had rewatched that duel more than any of his others.

Reinhard grumbled like Alden was giving him a hard time, but then he said, “Congratulations. For Winston. I haven’t seen it yet, but everyone’s talking about it. He’s not exactly a brilliant duelist, but he is a rank above you, and he had it in for you. Even if you two had an argument, he’s being too swaybrained about it. Maybe this will make him shut up.”

“The argument was him lying about me to entertain people on the internet and me arriving to make him stop.”

Reinhard twirled one of his arrows. He’d done it three times since he’d walked up. Alden was wondering if it was some competitive impulse that had developed because he’d seen Alden spinning his own weapon a few times over the past hour. “Whatever. He’s just getting on my nerves. The other day when your Rabbit friends came to the dorm, after you all left, some of us were joking around about you in my apartment, and he was ruining the atmosphere.”

“You were talking about me?”

“It wasn’t like we were saying anything you’d be mad about. You have to know that two of them have over-Apexed their Appeal, and then there was that super cool girl who showed off her skill by making Mehdi’s watch look a thousand argold better, and the funny one in the skirt asked us where ‘Pigeon Picture Boy’ was. They were so flashy as soon as they walked in. And the blonde girl was cooking for us within ten seconds of showing up. So we were talking about it like, ‘Guess Alden’s not coming back to the hero program. The Rabbit bosses finally sent in the elite team to lure him home. We’ll never hear from him again.’”

Alden grinned. “They did look like an elite team, and they did take me away to see the people who come closest to qualifying as Rabbit bosses.”

“It was normal, corny stuff. But Winston can’t hear your name, or Max’s, and stay normal. He made it so uncomfortable that I was shoveling spaghetti into my mouth so that I could use going downstairs for a second serving as an excuse to get away. And it was my apartment.” Reinhard shrugged. “Anyway. Congrats.”

“What did Winston say to make it that uncomfortable, though?”

Reinhard looked toward the high ceiling. “It was something about you going back to Matadero…I’m not going to repeat it…but you should definitely beat him in duels a few more times. If it wasn’t just luck.”

Alden imagined Winston butting in with something about how Alden deserved to be killed by a demon during one of his visits to Matadero instead of being carried off by a bunch of fun Rabbits.

The speedster had picked himself up after their duel, but he was staying as far from Alden as possible when they were both in the practice area. And he was being uncharacteristically serious in his duels against people he usually won against. Actually fighting without thinking about how he looked fighting.

So I sobered him up for at least one day. Not sure he deserved the favor.

“It wasn’t just luck!” he called after Reinhard as the archer left. “Acknowledge the true power of my contraptions!”

“He said luck?” Ignacio had arrived, sliding fast across a melting ice patch Everly had left behind. “No. <<Wrong. I watched the duel against Winston. You were not lucky.>> Excellent. Good duel. Congratulations! <<Fight me like that?>>”

“But you’ll just dodge and put a knife to my throat anyway, Shrike.”

<<I’ll hold still.>>

“Don’t say that. That makes me feel pitiful. Muy triste.”

<<I’ll hold still, and I’ll focus on attacking your weapon,>> Ignacio explained.

Is the idea that he’ll send a flock of knives into the sandbag to see if he can redirect it? Or attack the preserved paracord handle while I’m flicking it around?

Either would be an interesting experiment. But…

“If we get a chance to try it at the end of a class,” Alden said. “Yes.”

<<At the beginning, it would be a better test.>>

Alden felt his face scrunch.

<<Don’t look like that.>>

The Meisters knew Alden rarely presented them with opportunities to try their weapons out against anything he was protecting with his magic. Writher got more attempts than any of the other deadly tools because Writher and Alden lived together, and he was being a good roommate.

“What if I went to Superlatives one day?” Alden suggested. “Or Meister club. Not to participate in a way that would annoy anyone but just as a training target for you to use? You’ll fatigue my skill fast finding out what you can do, and I’ll leave.”

Ignacio brightened. <<That would be fun. I’ll ask Ash.>>

“Ash?”

<<He’s the faculty advisor for Superlatives.>>

“Shrike! I’m here! Practice with me!” Marsha’s shout made them both look over. She was shifting her weapon into glaive mode.

<<I’d better go before she starts swinging.>>

“Remind her that the practice area isn’t just a bigger dueling block with human-shaped objects in the way.”

<<I don’t think it will work today. You heard about Elites?>>

“Probably not. I wasn’t around for gossip this weekend.”

<<They sent Febri a callback and Marsha a rejection.>>

“I’m a little surprised,” said Alden, lowering his voice. “I know she’s got a one-track mind, but the one track seems to suit what they’re doing.”

<<Her dad was an alumni of their program, and he was embarrassing for them. He was caught pretending to be his own nemesis, committing crimes so that it looked like there was a dangerous unregistered for him to fight. Even if she doesn’t have anything to do with him, they might not want to have her around as a reminder.>>

“SHRIKE!”

Poor Marsha, thought Alden. For the first time ever. Maybe she’s got that S-rank fighting obsession because in her mind it’s like the opposite of her dad being a phony?

A minute later, Ignacio sprinted past, pursued by a girl who definitely preferred to interpret “practice area” as “free dueling space.”

On the other hand, she looks thrilled to be chasing him down. Maybe she just likes it.

A couple more people came up to Alden to say congrats before class ended. It wasn’t like everyone was a fan of his work. He caught some glares and wary glances, and there was one comment from a Brute who sometimes hung out with Winston about how things would have been different if Winston had a weapon, too.

But finding out so many of them were glad for his success was a boost. I thought it would just be my roommates and Max who appreciated how I did in one duel. This makes me proud I put some extra effort in.

He found himself smiling as he packed up.

On his way out of the gym, Finlay sprang in front of him to declare that he was taking him out to celebrate. Alden protested that it was going overboard to celebrate one single person’s duel when they’d all just had several of them. But he didn’t protest it too hard with Haoyu making restaurant suggestions and Astrid diving in to say she expected to be taken out for dinner by the whole class when she beat Tuyet.

“Since Astrid will never earn that dinner, that’s more money I can spend for your meal,” Finlay said. “What’s a place you like in Apex? Who should we invite?”

******

Ten of them crowded around two tables at the back of the diner. The checkerboard floor, the glass-fronted fridge full of familiar canned drinks,  and the items listed on the plastic-coated menus were nostalgic for Alden. But the Anesidoran touches were great, too. Their waitress was an Object Shaper who wore harem pants and Artonan jewelry with a cut-off Celena North University shirt. Whatever they ordered left the kitchen and traveled to them through the air under her direction, and dishes that they emptied took flight a minute or two later.

Everyone raised sodas, milkshakes, cups of tea, and decaf coffees to Alden’s victory. Then they did the same for various victories the others wanted to be complimented on. And finally they saluted Winston’s new roommates—whoever they might be.

They chattered about duels, Christmas, and school while they ate the kinds of meals you could only put together at a place that served American breakfast food and dinner food simultaneously. If their volume and Jeffy popping out of his chair constantly was irritating the other people eating there, Alden didn’t really notice it.

“I just like wintry-looking things,” Everly was saying. She sat beside Kon at one end of the table. They were supposed to be splitting a basket of buffalo chicken wings and an order of eggs Benedict. She didn’t seem to notice Kon was scarfing all the chicken. “It’s the same as people who have a bunch of accessories in their favorite color, but instead of one color, I have a theme.”

“I want a theme,” said Astrid, taking a fry from a shared plate in the middle of the table and leaning across Max to dunk it in one of the sauces Alden had gotten to go with his hash browns and plant-based scramble. “Jeffy’s aquatic theme will be sharks, and his land-based theme will be grilling.”

Jeffy lifted half a cheeseburger into the air proudly.

“Lexi’s theme should be that black feather makeup he wore to class the other day. Max’s theme could be—”

“My theme will be asking you why you don’t order your own spicy mustard dip if you like it that much.” Max was trying to wipe a drop of it off his sleeve.

“Next time I will. This time Alden had an ordering advantage. He’s eaten here before and knows what’s good.”

“Kon,” Max said, “if it’s not a problem—”

“A stain!” Kon gasped. “My favorite!”

He’d gotten burger grease off of Jeffy’s jacket a few minutes ago.

“Kon’s the kind of hero people actually want around. I keep waiting for someone to shout, ‘We can’t do this without a Dura Brute!’ in an everyday setting, but it never happens.” Haoyu was sitting across the table from Alden. “What were you saying about Ignacio?”

“He wants me to try to hit him with the weapon a few times,” said Alden. “I asked him if I could do it at Superlatives instead of in class.”

“The Rabbit has taken out an A-rank Speed Brute, and now he wants to fight the entire S-rank club,” Kon said, checking out the stain on Max’s shirt. “I look forward to it.”

Lexi, Everly, and Max were all giving Alden raised eyebrows.

“Did you think they’d actually let you go?” Lexi asked.

“I did offer to do Meister club, too. Ignacio picked Superlatives.”

“Meister club’s going to have a reduced number of gym meetings next term,” Lexi said.

“I don’t think it would be a problem.” Lucille, sitting at the end of the table with a Cobb salad, had been the quietest member of their group tonight. But she’d still been more talkative than normal. Alden was glad he’d invited her. “People can be overprotective of their floor time, but if it’s just for a few minutes and Ignacio gets it pre-approved, nobody should be mad about it. ”

“Superlatives is full of normal students like any other club,” said Finlay. “Marsha’s the one who’ll whinge about Alden being there. And to quiet Marsha down all Shrike has to do is promise to fight her next. You might have to wait for your chance, though, Alden. With all the people volunteering to train us lately it’s been crowded.”

“Finlay…” Everly said hesitantly. “Are you staying? Have you decided?”

Everyone knew she meant the Elites program.

Finlay winced.

“You don’t have to answer.”

“I was excited about being invited. And I thought I’d go. But what if it’s like being with a bunch of S-rank Winstons who I won’t have a break from even on the weekends?”

“Why would they be S-rank Winstons?” Alden asked.

“The worst thing about living with him is having someone who insists on competing every second whether I feel like it or not,” said Finlay. “‘How many followers did you gain last night? How fast did you drink that cup of juice?’”

“How fast can you shower?”

“Don’t remind me. It’s been shite like that constantly. I know Elites wouldn’t be those little things. But it’s supposed to be more competition than here. All day. Every day. With them tossing us out if we don’t keep up. And if it’s like that, won’t I go mad? I want to be the best, but I can’t be the best if I go mad. So maybe not. I’ve got until Friday to tell them.”

“Vandy’s grandfather didn’t like the idea of it,” said Everly. “So she’s not going. I thought Tuyet definitely wouldn’t go, no matter what, but she seemed to be thinking about it until she heard Vandy was saying no. Maricel’s only around for about ten minutes at a time, but Tuyet says she talked to Fragment, and Fragment’s advising her to stay at CNH. So she probably will?”

“You must’ve worried you were going to lose all three roommates,” said Haoyu.

“I wondered if I would. It looks like we’ll be together again.” She reached for the basket that had held the buffalo wings and saw that it now held nothing but gnawed bones. “Kon!”

They ordered more wings for Everly and slices of pie for dessert. They all  took pens and styluses out of their bags and tried spinning them. Alden and the other globies ended up answering questions about home.

“You should tell your aunt to order special wedding supplies here on Anesidora.” Astrid was moving the salt and pepper shakers so that a bowl of extra whipped cream could land. “And then you can take it all with you when you go. It’s one of the perks of having an Avowed relative.”

Alden had just mentioned that he expected to attend Aunt Connie’s wedding sometime next year.

“And you should buy your American friends—if they’re real—something that they can’t get at home.”

“When did you guys all decide my friends weren’t real?” Alden asked.

“Right before pie,” said Haoyu.

“They’re fake,” said Astrid. “For sure. You were a loner in your old high school, but then you met us…”

“There are a few pictures of them on my Trime from like a year and a half ago. I told you they’re the reason I like this diner.”

“A year and a half ago.” Max shook his head. “Only a few pictures.”

“You’re getting in on this? Hang on. I’ll introduce you all to them. It’s only two hours later there, so they’re probably still up.”

[Alden: Boe, I’m at a diner with a bunch of people from school who want me to prove that my Chicago friends are real. That’s you. Want to take a call on your cell if you’re awake?]

[Alden: Jeremy, you up? I’m hanging out with classmates at a diner, and I told them about you. They want proof that you exist.]

They both came through, answering from their bedrooms at home and appearing on everyone’s interface.

“Alden’s American friends, our diner has twelve kinds of pie,” Astrid said after introductions had been made. Her hair was slowly getting longer and turning yellow blonde.

“Seriously? Ours only has four unless there’s a special,” Jeremy replied. “But the coconut cream is addictive. Right, Boe?”

Jeremy followed several of Alden’s classmates online because they sometimes mentioned Alden, or posted things like the gokoratch song video in which he could be spotted. He seemed thrilled to be chatting with a bunch of Avowed at eleven o’clock at night. And Boe was being a good sport.

“The coconut cream is human-style magic,” Boe agreed.

“I got coconut cream.” Jeffy was holding up a forkful of it. “Alden beat Winston up.”

“What wonderful news,” said Boe.

“You’re beating people up, Alden?” Jeremy clucked his tongue.

“In MPE,” Alden said. “There was no lasting damage.”

“I wonder if Winston would agree with that.”

“He hit him with a fifty-kilo sandbag, you guys!”

“The fight lasted a few seconds. Alden’s improved since we started school.”

“Winston was so sure he was going to win he bet his room.”

“He offended the mad Rabbit of Matadero, and that was the end for him.”

“Send us more giardiniera. Lute ate it all on ramen.”

“Haoyu’s ordering groceries from America? Can we?”

“Why would we? We have stores.”

“I want a deep dish pizza from actual Chicago.”

“I’ll show you how fast I can freeze a glass of lemon-lime soda if you tell me an embarrassing story about Alden.”

Boe’s polite smile suddenly turned genuine. “One time, Alden climbed onto the roof of a stranger’s house—”

“Don’t tell them this one,” Alden protested.

Jeremy, who had heard this story before, was already grinning in anticipation.

“—because he saw a cat up there he thought was his. And he thought it was having a medical issue. We were like five miles from his own neighborhood, so I don’t know why he was so sure it was his cat.”

“You helped me get onto that roof!”

“Of course the animal ran away from the sketchy guy who was trying to bother it. The owner of the house drove up at exactly the same time, and for some reason, Alden was just standing around where she could see him when she got out of her car.”

“Because you hid from her and weren’t there to help me get down! This story is just as embarrassing for you.”

“He was so nervous that he kept saying, ‘There is a cat here. There is,” instead of using the past tense, so basically he was hanging out on some lady’s roof in broad daylight, swearing he could see a cat that clearly wasn’t there.”

They were all cackling and snorting. They were laughing so hard that they were choking on their pie.

And it didn’t feel bad at all to laugh until his stomach ached, to accept over-the-top praise for a duel, and to be embarrassed in the middle of this group of people he was growing closer to little by little.

Alden looked at Boe making them all laugh. Maybe one day he’ll change his mind and come here.

He looked at Jeremy. We haven’t really drifted that far apart.

It didn’t feel bad to belong, for a while, on Anesidora.