CHAPTER 24

  She had been talking for fifteen minutes, nary a breath. Rina wasn’t annoyed. She liked it. Why? She should be annoyed.

  "--no idea why. Anyway this guy, this grade-A, ancient ass, my boss, says, to me, in front of everyone, 'your just an asset that doesn’t asset’ or some such like that. He always speaks above everyone. Rokk I wanted to kick his teeth. Just punt his five-hundred-year-old face into the ceiling and laugh as they tried to picked him out. Anyway, he keeps talking. Can you believe it? Like he thinks I won’t. Well, I mean, he knew I wouldn’t. I knew I wouldn't. I think I knew. And I also think that’s what ticks me off so much: thinking that I know what he thinks he knew I knew. But what he doesn’t know is I’m just a wee-bit imbalanced. But non of this even touches what a pain mom’s been lately. Any. . .Ammi?” Fritz rushed to the window, graceful in a bully sort of way, her face anxious.

  Rina looked around the room and admired the job. Nothing short of a miracle how much they’d accomplished in only a few hours. This tall, rowdy, insecure, but strangely sweet stranger, unsighned like all Given, could work. More than one man she had chased away surly and chafed because she didn’t need, indeed resented the presumption that she might ever need, help. She used all the tools deftly; out-built most of the contractors and construction workers; never stopped.

  And she like to show them up. Once, as she was explaining a superior framing method to Nail and several others, she’d caught the Rockman nodding knowingly.

  "Like you know what I’m talkin’ about.” They laughed, after a moment Nail loudest of all.

  Nor had Rina escaped her criticism. As they hung drywall she took Rina to task for trying to anchor the heavy sheets into the wall with the screws going in at angle toward the corner two by fours.

  "Oh, Rokk,” Fritz had called from another room. "Oh, my shaking rokk, no. No, no. Just no.” She took the drill and showed Rina to attach a smaller board to the inside of the corner frame to create and fastening surface; then the screws went straight.

  "The non-stupid way.” Only when the final word left the green eye’s mouth did she look down at Rina in horror, blink and tap her head with a hammer. "I’m a mouth. You put all the rest in all by yourself, damn woman, you’re a unit. See? I talk when I’m nervous or happy or angry or sad I didn’t mean any--”

  Rina had smiled and nodded. "I’m not so weak. I only have to be shown something once, anyway.”

  One unfortunate blue eye man, though handsome, tall, with a nice, wide chest and square-jaw, had become obsessed with Fritz early on. The long-limbed woman put up with his shadowing for only a few minutes before. "Guy, I’m serious, leave me alone or I’m gonna punch you so hard your grandma will feel it.”

  Rina had always despised the interminable, seemingly unavoidable, petty games other women played for attention or distinction. When they inevitably learned of Rina’s shine it only made her that much richer a target for their contempt. The green eye, Fritz, was in no ways threatened by Rina, but neither did she posture. Rina liked her for it.

  As the afternoon passed, they began shadowing each other more and more, for the men liked them both. This too, Rina had always despised. Fritz started to keep her back, and so Rina did for her. After hunting, with no success, for the mystery shiner all morning, interrupted only by a small shine flare that lead her to the central skyscrapers and, ultimately, nothing, her time with Fritz was soothing.

  Small talk had gradually evolved. Joking into chatter to discussion and finally to Fritz just talking. She is just like Maim! Rina thought with love.

  Rina moved to the window and followed her gaze. "Who?”

  Fritz shook her head. "Not enough water. Couldn’t be.” They resumed painting, slowly approaching the same corner.

  "What was I saying?” Fritz asked.

  "Your mother.”

  "Ah, right! I guess I can’t complain too much. I mean, the woman came all the way from Olde Honour. Tough as steel. Steel for whom I, literally, can do nothing right for. And she snipes at me! She knows my temper, I got it from her, but still she snipes! Why light the wick when you hate the fire? Drives me shaking crazy! It was supposed to get better once I stopped being a teenager but its moved from annoying to suicide-pact-with-anyone-who-promises-me-ten-minutes-of-shaking-silence!”

  Finally, Fritz took a breath.

  "My mother was also difficult.”

  Fritz waited. "Ok? It that all?”

  Rina tried not to blush. It seemed wrong to say anything negative about momma. To a stranger, no less. Still. . ."I too was,” she cast around for the right word, "difficult. Sebi men are not fond of headstrong women, and other headstrong Sebi women less so.”

  "Well, feel free to let loose with me. You’ll never out-gripe me.”

  Rina felt a shudder. "I loved my mama, but. . .” Rina fought the irrational urge to look around, in case, somehow, her mother should appear, sour-faced and staring down at her, "well. . .” Rina coughed. "She was. . .grumpy.”

  Fritz laughed as she reached the corner of the wall. "Don’t hold back. I’m just shocked you’d use such language for your own mother. Atta girl. Why was she grumpy?”

  "Very traditional Sebi, and I her only daughter. A great disappointment.”

  "I see.”

  "Yes. She wanted many things for me. I hated them. Every one. I wish she were still around, if only to be angry at. Just to hear her. 'Rina, you sow.’ 'Rina, you silly girl.” I can’t really remember what she sounded like anymore.” Rina took a deep breath.

  Fritz looked more uncomfortable than any person Rina had ever known and seemed to forget what her arms were doing, held one out limply in a sort of half-threatening, half-reassuring posture. "Wow. I suddenly feel like a jerk.”

  "Nonsense. We’re talking. I was little less than thirteen when she passed.” And she thought, Murdered. Gutted like a stolen sheep in the tors. "We all lose people we love. Ante gives and takes, all that.”

  Fritz scoffed. "Yeah, he sure takes.”

  Their brushes finally met at the corner. Six new rooms from they alone, fifteen additional rooms altogether. Rina smiled. Remember the Unsighned, the Archives said, you were and are no different without Ante.

  "Get out of here idiots!” Tek hollered from the hallway. Three older boys scurried off in abject horror they’d been caught.

  "Animals,” Tek said with a smile. He walked into the room carrying two bottles of water, which the women took gladly.

  "Want a permanent attack-dudes-for-me job, kid?” Fritz said.

  He walked around the room inspecting the paint job. "All comes down to what you’re willing to pay.” Then he was off again, through the door and away.

  "That kid,” Fritz said as she took a drink.

  "Oh, my yes. The charisma. Big trouble for mama soon.”

  They wandered out onto the lawn and stood for a moment in the warmth of waning sun.

  "Lunch? Dinner?” asked Fritz. "Both?”

  The great booming roar of man-laughter exploded from just around the garden’s corner. Rina followed Fritz around to find Nail and Pilgrim, each with dozens of brightly colored cards in hand and between them, on the fine, emerald grass. Set Wars, Rina thought. Men must have war, real or imitation.

  "Absurd.” It would be difficult to classify anything Nail said as petulant, yet the thunder rumble voice whined, "Utterly implausible to move that many units that fast. The logistics--"

  "'Hey everybody,’” Pilgrim parroted Nail’s bass. "’'I actually fought in the Set Wars. How hard can a card-game be?'”

  Nail’s smile was genuine but so was his irritation. "That many men, that far, that fast? Please, Given. The logistics.”

  "You like that word. Only logistics I know are three games to nil.”

  "I cannot be manipulated," the Rockman leaned forward with a crazy look in his eye. "You’ll not get a rise out of me. I’ll bring my remaining forces around--hey--”

  By this point Fritz had dumped her freezing water onto Pilgrim's lap, who writhed like a slug in salt. "Why? What kind of world? Why was this done to me? And only ME!?”

  Fritz made a great shrug, "Sitting on your ass when you’re supposed to be helping. Seemes shady to me. Plus, I only had the one bottle and you’re far more annoying.” She pointed at Rina.

  "She’s got a bottle for the Rockman.”

  "I will not pour water on you, Nail.”

  "Thank you.”

  Pilgrim turned slowly, smiling like a cat on the hunt, "The men,” Pilgrim gestured to the Rockman, "did so much we figured we needed to leave some for the, uh, shall we say fairer, uh, less upper body--” Fritz’s empty bottle panged off his bald head.

  "Ow,” said Pilgrim.

  "So awesome!” Tek suddenly appeared, falling as if from the sky, Rina had not heard his approach. He came straight down onto Pilgrim’s shoulders so that his small legs dangled around the man’s armpits.

  "Ow again,” said Pilgrim.

  Undeterred, the boy laughed. "You guys are all so awesome! Everything you all say and do is either hilarious or awesome!”

  Looking up, Pilgrim said, "Always thought I wanted kids, little man. You’re testing that.” The Given shrugged and the boy dropped to an impressively deft roll onto the grass, and laughed again.

  Nail grunted and threw his cards down, "Perhaps the wisest tactic available to me is to switch back to our discussion. That is where I was winning.” Nail smiled. "Unless you’re finally willing to concede?”

  "You’re quitting cause I was beating you like. . .like. . .” The vein in Pilgrim's shiny forehead bulged as he thought, "a. . .a. . .thing beaten. . .a beaten. . .b-badly. . .” He took a breath. "Ah, maw I don't care."

  "Yes," Nail coughed, "well. . .In case you have forgotten the question, it is this: How can Given say Rokk can do all things if he cannot simply null his own Contract? It’s his, isn’t it? Do you deny he is within his rights to nullify it? This led further to the question of his justice. How could he force Heir into man’s estate, especially if he was, as you Given say, not an insurgent? The only one, as say you Given, who is not an insurgent?”

  Tek moaned. "Of course you wait til I come over to start talkin’ rokkisms.”

  Fritz nodded, rubbed the child's head as she plopped next to the cooler.

  To Nail, Pilgrim said, "Reminds me of the 'narrok horn’: Can Rokk forge skeel to pierce his own heart? You make the same mistake the narokk does. If Rokk sets terms and then says, 'I will not violate these,’ it doesn’t make him weak, but trusty. The narokk, and you make humans the standard of comparison and then map that back onto Rokk. Humans can break contracts so if Rokk can’t he’s weak; humans can kill themselves so if Rokk can’t, he’s weak. Blech. Besides, no one "forced" Heir to do anything. He has a Contract. A Signatory must fill it, else its void and the punishments must be given.”

  Rina frowned. This man was not half the fool he pretended to be.

  Nail frowned, "I don’t appreciate being compared to a narokk.”

  "Me neither,” said Pilgrim. "That’s why I try not to sound like them. You Rockmen don’t take insurrection as seriously as you should.”

  Rina began to unwrap the sand witch Fritz had handed her, unsure of how much of her culture's culture she could stand the hear dissected. "We’ll only take a small break.”

  Pilgrim eyes flashed. "Maw, you guys can leave right now if you want. Y’all busted it for us today. The shelter appreciates it, I know I do.”

  "Not enough to not insult other’s rokkism, apparently,” said Fritz through a mouthful of sandwich.

  "Though your concern is touching Fritz,” Nail adjusted his scarf, "the Given and I are in full agreement: the other is wrong.”

  "Rokkisms,” Tek whined into the ground. Then he popped his head up and said, "You guys are amazing! Each one o’ you did as much work as ten guys. I bet all explorers like you have tons of better stories you could tell than rokkisms!”

  Pilgrim’s eyes sparkled. "Reminds me, your bro tells me you want to see Red Isle.”

  Tek's eyes sparkled back. "YES! Why? Have you been to Red Isle, Nod?”

  Nail laughed, "You’ll understand someday, young one. These are important issues.”

  "Cool as shiners one minute, boring as Dayone morning the next”

  "What’s so cool about shiners?” said, Pilgrim as he wrang out his shirt.

  Tek sat up. "They’re only the coolest things on this boring rock.” The boy punched at the sky, exaggerating every move, adding his own audio effects, "’Fwwa!’ and lasers fly out, 'blam!’ and I jump over buildings. Swish, that’s the sound of my hand swishing when I move. Chwoo, chwoo, wish, swish swish. I’ve heard some can control the ocean, and others the moon. I even read in one o’ Ran’s books that one controlled time! Ran thinks all the people in the olden days thought shiners were rokkae, and that’s where the stories come from.”

  "I’ve heard of shiners who can do many things,” Rina said, "but control time isn’t one of them.” Thank Ante, she thought.

  They ate in silence for a minute, and Rina watched the boy think deeply, little arms crossed and forehead wrinkled. Finally, as if coming to a decision, he said. "I saw a shiner once.”

  Nail's face, for the barest instant, flushed. "What?”

  "Yeah. I guess I really didn’t see 'em, had some stuff in my way at the time, but I saw their shine. It was the most amazing thing, like light, but alive! Kiyo would freak out if she knew.”

  "She’d be right to,” said Fritz. "Shiners are more than dangerous.” She winked at Rina, who nodded. Clearly the child was basking in the spotlight just now. The silly exaggerations the young were so prone to.

  "Old folks don't talk about when shiners lived 'round here,” continued Tek. "They think we aren’t listening.” He rolled his eyes. "We are. One was a nut who could vaporize people with their mind or something. I asked Ran why nobody talks about it and he looked through some books, but they were either too old or too new. He guessed the shiner died or was hyped-up.”

  "Died,” Fritz echoed, her shoulders relaxing. "Tek, where--”

  "You want to talk about shiners?” On the ground on all fours, like a giant cockroach, Pilgrim crawled zig-zag toward Tek. "I been all over the world. Seen a few, heard about a dozen others. One knows the minds of beasts, and can fight like them, at a thousand times the power.”

  Tek shot to his feet and his eyes were like jewels.

  "One whose senses were so sharp she could feel you coming through the ground, through the air, for miles and miles away. She could hear the blood in your veins.”

  Tek breathed fast, seemed on the verge of salivating. Rina didn’t like the Given screwing the boy up so much; or she thought she didn’t like it. She was actually smiling.

  "Once I heard of a guardian. A mother of many excellent kiddos. She wasn’t afraid of work or cold and had the heart of a mountain. She could push off evil, hold up valleys and lakes as big as this city!”

  Tek looked as if he would explode with excitement. . .then Pilgrim’s face, his voice changed. It became solemn. Measured. Ever word was the weight of centuries. "I also knew one who was just a killer. That's it." He poked the child's forehead. Be careful looking for adventure, little man. You’re just brave enough you might find it."

  Tek’s head lolled to the side. "Why’d you have to kill the mood?”

  "I haven’t met many like you, Tek, but the ones I have always become my best friends. Because you’re brave you need to know: Fritz is right, shiners are dangerous. Steer clear away from them if you can help it. They aren't rokkae or toys. They're people. Really, really powerful people.”

  Tek turned as red as the Given city's accoutrements, and Rina couldn’t bear watching his little man brain try to escape such high praise and rebuke mixed together. "You know what 'rashin’ means Tek?” He shook his head. "In Sebu there aren’t many shiners. There never have been, at least compared to other lands. My people even have a saying; 'Ante keeps their eyes sky,’ shine leaks out of the eyes, you see? When I was little, I always heard of shiners, but never saw them, so I too read books about them.” And Rina thought, Minimal lying thus far. "'Rashin’ is Oldword. All shin-arts are all Oldwords. 'Rashin’ means 'clash.’ All shine techniques that are attacks are 'rashin.’”

  "Shin-arts’?” Tek’s eyes blaze anew.

  "That’s what shiners call their unique techniques.” Rina pretended to think hard. "There are four in total, I think.”

  "Five,” Fritz interrupted, "What?” she asked of their stares. "You think they only have books in Sebu?”

  Said Tek, "What are they, then?”

  Fritz ran through them full-auto, "Rashin, anushin, shinasshu, and shinmardu. Anushin means 'shelter’, defense, shinasshu means 'stupi’, like illusions and tricks. Shinmardu means 'patch’. Usually healing stuff.” To Rina she said, "Sorry. Should have let you finish.”

  Tek absorbed this and asked. "I hate math but I can count. That’s only four. You said there were five.”

  It was Nail who answered. "Shinube. It means 'gasp’. In my youth I was in the military in--”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "The Set Wars?” Pilgrim grinned.

  But Nail pretended he didn’t hear this, continued, "--I saw shinube once. Mighty was its effect, higher its cost. Almost killed the user for a few breaths of power, did kill several thousand men besides, half his own.”

  Tek moaned. "Even shiners are complicated!”

  "Complicated, like the Text!” Pilgrim shouted, pointed eagerly at Tek. The boy stared glumly. "Still not about it, huh?”

  "It’s so boring!” Tek fell to his knees and buried his head in grass, and Pilgrim poked at it.

  "You have to admit,” said Fritz, eyes downcast, "life could be a lot easier without some of that stuff.”

  "Exactly!” Tek exploded up, jamming Pilgrim’s finger.

  "Which parts of the Text would you excise?” asked Nail.

  Fritz’s green eyes widened as she realized the question was put to her, and she seemed to check herself, said, "not just the Text. The Archives too. And the Speech. Doesn’t it all ever just seem clunky?” She blinked, "Sometimes? No? Anyone?”

  Nail looked as if the woman might as well have been emitting bestial grunts.

  "What would you replace them with?” asked Rina.

  "I dunno. Narokks think nothing would do just fine.”

  "Nothing?” Rina repeated. "Torlord that’s odd to think about.” She remembered about how many times Gam had made her recite Archival passages, how many times he and Maim insisted that every single Rule had rational and reasonable justification, here and now. Often worlds apart when it came to the Archives application, on this the twins united.

  Rina herself had found it hard to accept. Why does Ante care so much about what I eat? Her youthful self had asked. She’d thrown such a tantrum when she found out she couldn’t eat the delectable, tender northcontinent bison, or the great rainbow fish that swam up the greater gate into Sebu’s waters from Raatabshatru. How much easier her wars with the Ligan would have been could she have made use of that abundance and not punished those who did.

  Fritz’s eyes dashed. "Just being hypothetical.”

  "Nothing?” the word lolled off Nail’s tongue as if it tasted like old clothes.

  Pilgrim grunted, "Ma finga," cradled the jammed digit, but smiled, and Rina might have thought he did this too much, but oddly didn’t.

  "Sure, if that helps. I mean, look at the kids.” She gestured to Tek who looked for all the world asleep on the grass. "Why aren’t kids just born knowing Rokk exists? For certain?"

  "Who says they aren’t?” Nail ventured.

  She stretched out her long legs across the grass, crossed them, fell back onto her elbows, staring at the Rockman.

  "Well let’s ask someone who’s in a position to know.” She slapped the boy on his back. "Oy lad? Ever wake up one day knowing there’s a Rokk?”

  Tek shot up. "No! Uh-uh! That’s the exact same deal!”

  Fritz was startled so badly she took several quick breaths, "Maw swallow me whole! Why are you screaming?”

  "The narokks ain’t different!” Tek cried. "I’ve met a few of 'em, uh, in the city, always in the city, and not narokks anymore, but, yeah, they've all become Given. . .I met em over the years. They say the same stuff, they just say it different.” He started wagging his finger, "’Don’t, do, don’t do-do' or 'do-don’t-do' or 'you can’t believe' and 'that’s mean to think' and 'those people are evil.’ Booooorrrrriiiing. Just people tellin’ you they know things they don’t.”

  Pilgrim snorted, "Well what a good point, little-man! Narokks or rokkist, it isn’t nothing verses something. Everybody’s got something. By the way I stole your water.” As Pilgrim went to drink, the green eye kicked it into his face. "Well.” He began to wring out his shirt again.

  "I ain’t finished," said Fritz. "Some things we just have to have. Without them, what? I mean, c’mon. What?”

  Tek shrugged, "Nothing, I guess. But I don’t think everybody on Nameless is like our city or the Firsts. Not if the stuff Ran’s told me from his books is true. The way we build cities ain't the only way.”

  "You are wise, lad,” Nail smiled.

  "Ok,” Fritz rolled her hands, "but doesn’t it matter, Tek, what the truth is?”

  Tek’s lips and eyebrows twisted, and he again thought deeply. "Before I met Nod, I didn’t think so.”

  Pilgrim, who was now opening another bottle well outside Fritz’s reach, said, "Eh?”

  "I been with Kiyo and Sarge my whole life. Well, since I can remember anyways. They both always tried to show me how Given are supposed to act. Until I met Nod, I never saw anyone do it, you know, just do it like it was them. Or I did, but, its different when it’s your family, I guess.” He crossed his arms and furrowed his brow so deeply his head turned red. "Arrg! Ran’s better at this stuff! I’ve always run around the streets. I saw lots of people do lots of things. I used to think, adults, all of 'em, Sebi, narrok, black eyes and yellow, whatever, all of 'em just make up stuff and see it where they want, when they want. It just seemed to me like it would work a lot better if people just did whatever they wanted. What’s there to really get upset about?

  But then Nod comes...and. . .I guess now I think it does matter! Its’ like when I asked Nod earlier about Nail’s rokk, you remember, Nod? I wanted to ask him, but I was all scared. I remember this one guy who used to come into the pub all the time, raising maw, putting a chunk under it, cursing about Rockmen. How they wanted to burn Given and make us all wear their scarves. He was a jerk and Sarge finally booted him, but he always talked about how the. . .Confronter, uh. . .”

  "Confirmer,” Nail corrected.

  "Him! How the Confirmer was just like Heir for Given. But Nod said that guy’s wrong. You said, um, jeez, now I’m all twisted up.”

  Pilgrim nodded. "Rockmen don’t worship the Confirmer," then his eyes flashed with humor. "To hear them tell, anyway.”

  Nail let out a deep grunt, nodded back.

  Tek continued, "I don’t know all the stuff Ran does, and I don’t think I’ll ever really care about most of it, but Nod has made me feel, I don’t know, proud, I guess. To be Given.”

  Rina was not shocked that a silence followed this, knew how uncomfortable it was to the boy just now. How many times as a woman grown had she felt that unpleasant weight when discussing the deep things surrounded by ones who knew better, but asked her for her opinion?

  Then Pilgrim exploded upwards covered in laughter, threw the unopened water bottle. Rina heard a crash, a cat's long hiss. "CAT!” the bald man screamed, "AGAIN!?" and he turned to Tek. "You’ve made my day, little man! My whole week! I'm telling you now I have been in whole cities lacking men with you discernment!”

  Now the boy really blushed, so much so Rina, fearing he might faint, used a bit of shine to checked his vitales. "You guys need more water. "He jumped to his feet, "I’ll get some!”

  "Cute kid,” Fritz grinned as he ran off. "Can’t handle emotions for shit.”

  "A man,” said Rina and pushed herself back against the wall, hugged her legs.

  "Smart,” said Nail with a smile. "He’ll be an excellent Rockman.”

  Pilgrim rolled his eyes. "He’ll realize you can’t just have cornerstones, but a foundation. Need both to remain Given in this Nameless World.”

  Nail fingered his scarf, pulled along its width before his mouth thoughtfully. "That reminds me of a Rockman tale. Lawman came first, then Heir second and the Confirmer last. Nameless is a field owned by a rich man. One day, before the sun, the man goes to the city and finds strong men and says, 'Come! Work until breakfast.’ The men work until breakfast and the rich man pays and dismisses them. He goes back into the city, to other strong men and says, 'Come! Work until lunch.’ They come and work until lunch, and he dismisses them. One last time to the city, to the last group, 'Come! Work until dark, then dinner and you may stay in my house.’” He smiled, "He who finishes the work stays in the house.”

  "Unless the work was finished earlier,” said Pilgrim.

  "Unless no one asked them,” Fritz whispered.

  "And once again,” Pilgrim whistled. "Rina is quiet. Quiet and pensive and quiet.”

  Rina turned, unhappy at having all the attention thrust at her.

  "So quiet.”

  "I like to listen more than speak. A lifetime of waiting for the next fight.”

  "Everyone’s life is like that,” said Fritz. Then with a smile she added, "I’ll ignore the insinuation that I talk too much.”

  "Not just you,” Rina said as she shook her head and stared up at the sun-sparkled ruined moon. "In Sebu it’s not just the Ligan. Blue and green, silver, even yellow and black eyes, they’ve all taken their shots. My home isn’t either at war or under another’s boot for the first time in. . .how long? It cultivates appreciation for the short term. A deep patience.”

  "Pensive!” Pilgrim cried.

  Rina winced at this, "Compared to you three, southcontinent in toto is quiet.”

  While the remaining Given workers, mostly shelter volunteers, cleaned away the remaining materials around them, they four continued in talk.

  Fritz relayed her own parable, one she said she’d heard from her mother. The long and short of it was thus: Rokk: angry and crotchety, but not just with age but also sad madness, like a hagwho throws cats, in the Archives, a touchy-feely old maid in the Text. Neither Rina nor Pilgrim appreciated this, and they expressed their criticisms in turn. More objections and response followed and for the first time in her life Rina found herself deeply discussing the nature of Ante with those who did not share her belief in him.

  Only when she saw how close the sun was to touching the city’s set wall did she recognize how long they’d been at it. Laughing Rokk! Hours!

  "How can you say that they have no purpose?” Fritz continued the line she’d been hitting for a while. "Why do you think they just have to feel that way just because that’s the way you’ feel? Why can’t they make their own purpose? Stop saying 'fool’, dammit, Nail! How does that make them foolish?”

  Nail rumble-laughed. He seemed now to like teasing her as much a Pilgrim. "Why weigh the opinions of the greatest fools: narokks? If someone says he doesn’t believe his arm attaches to his hand by means of skin and sinew, would you ask his opinion of murder? Would you ask if he knows the secrets of heart, or love? How much less the greatest things of One and Only.”

  Fritz blinked rapidly, something she seemed to do whenever she could find no socially acceptable way to relay anger. "You sound like a crappy poet. Why only 'One’ anyway? Why not two or five hundred rokkae? Seems to me a billion rokkae would be needed to run just one world, let alone the ex. . .Field! And how can you not think to ask them? They’re people too, aren’t they? Do they have some curse that makes them less intelligent than a Rockman? They suffer and love too. Just because they don’t have rokk-flavored laws doesn’t mean you can sweep them aside like nothing.”

  "I thought their whole point was to replace One and Only with nothing. If One is nothing, but forgive me, "he said this to the sky," how much less the narokk? Why care what they want?”

  Rina thought someone’s stomach was growling, as a deep guttural sound hung about them for a long moment, but then she realized it was Pilgrim, his face was buried in the long grass, and he was moaning.

  "You are not a child!" Rina snapped. "Speak! Don't moan for attention!"

  He pulled up his head. "Thank you." To Fritz he said, you’re not getting what Nail’s saying. But he’s saying it stupid so I don't blame you..”

  Fritz knocked her forehead, "Ah! I need Pilgrim to explain it to me. That it? Pilgrim: the dude who nearly decapitates himself whenever he crosses a room”

  "I too am shocked. You seem so smart sometimes.” Pilgrim sat up, "Parables, eh? Here’s one: Four friends dream of being masters of the blade. Three go to the forge, but one goes to the square. At the smith the first picks a rusty hunk and has it made into a rickety sword, breaks with a swing. The third gets two hunks, seeing both the rusty the first chose, but asks that a harder, weightier metal be joined to it. Bottom can't support the top. Breaks with a swing. The one in the square begins to swing their arms around and cuss. "My blade, my blade. . .uh. . .my blade! How it cuts! Cuts anything! Look jackasses!” she cries. "I will the blade's edge to cut anything!” He stopped, smiled like a madman at Fritz. "Your narokk is this crazy person. Not sure if you caught that."

  Fritz stared at him, bit her lip, seemingly trying with all her unspoken will to be angry, but the corners of her mouth pulled into a smile. "Damn if your stupid bald head isn’t funny. Can’t help laughing at it.” She gently kicked his head. "If only it were as simple as all that. What about the last one? You said there were four.”

  "Handsome, ruggedly so, but with a heart harder than hate. The smith sees this, deems it not so, and stabs him with fire that splits stone from muscle, and from that heart comes a sword.”

  "We’re back to weird,” said Fritz.

  "It wasn’t too bad, Given,” said Nail, "until that lame ending.”

  "Criticisms! I can’t get any--”

  What Pilgrim did then shocked Rina so that she hit her head against the brick, nearly cried out. He sprung off of his stomach and into a crouch, body tight, eyes closed but dashing from side-to-side. Thinking. Evaluating. Re-evaluating. For all the world looking like a cornered, panicking animal. "Damn,” he said.

  Nail frowned, Fritz cursed, but Rina said, "Torlord, what was that!?”

  Pilgrim ignored them, and his eyes rocketed back and forth, his alarm, if anything, growing. "Damn.”

  "Hey!” Fritz screamed.

  Finally the man looked at her, locked onto her eyes, somehow calmed. "Ah. Stomachache. Sorry.”

  Reading emotions was far easier with broad sets of biodata, but Rina was too startled. Why the lie?

  Pilgrim looked up, coughed. "Wow! Getting late. Not that this hasn’t been fun, but--hey, Tek! Where’s Tek.” He flailed around. "Teeek. That little. . .sweetheart is always there and talking whenever you don’t need him. TEK! Ah, there you are! Hey, no, c'mere. No they can get their water later now come here! Hey, here's the man, how long’s it take to get water?”

  "I came back, but you guys were all talking.” He looked at Pilgrim. "Nod, why you lookin’ so weird.”

  The Given laughed, but nervously. "Hey, you heading home? It’s probably time for you to head home, right?”

  Tek nodded. "Just waiting for Kiyo.”

  "I’ll go with you,” Nail grunted, looking sidelong at Pilgrim, throwing a his scarf tail around his shoulder before offering his hand to Fritz. She took it. "A delight talking with you, though I agreed with nothing you said. I hope we have another chance before I leave Wordheal.”

  "I agreed with even less,” Fritz wiped her grass-stained hands on her pants. "But it was fun--"

  "Hey, Tek, let me ask you a question,” Pilgrim said, interrupting Fritz.

  "Ok.”

  "Kiyo and Sarge took you in, right?”

  Tek nodded.

  "They take Ran in too?”

  Another nod.

  "Well that’s just great. GREAT! Sorry. Having trouble with the volume of my voice. It just keeps going higher and lower! It’s just that I remember Kiyo telling me that it’s been about a year, a whole year, like, twelve total months,” this he said slowly, "since Ran came to Wordheal, right? Twelve? Twelve months? Right?! Nod, little man? One year? And also that shiner you talked about earlier, that was weird, right?”

  The boy thought. "It’s been so long. I can’t really remember what life was like before Ran.”

  Rina stood slowly, but her mind raced. One year? One year? No.

  "About a year. Maybe a little less.”

  "Whole year, huh?” Pilgrim was grinning like a maniac now. "I’m sure he’s happy he landed with such a close family. I was going to get him something for Gift, but I wanted to make sure. Hey, he from Wordheal like you?”

  "No,” Tek’s mouth became a firm line, as if resolving to speak less. "Somewhere else.”

  "Ah. Where?”

  With a curtness foreign to the child, he said, "Ask him.”

  Impossible. A child? Rina’s mind flashed with memories from her own youth. Before Maim and Gam, before anyone tried to help her control, or even understand. The power that split her from her family before the Ligan stole them forever.

  Pilgrim head gleamed with a thin sweat, "Ran just showing up a year ago, amazing stuff! You guys have really exciting lives. You saw shine, right? That time? What color was it? That’s always the coolest part, watching those bright colors weave around.”

  Tek kicked at the ground.

  She thought of the pulsing shine that morning at the pub. Ran’s leg touched mine.

  "C’mon,” the vein in Pilgrim's head made another appearance now. "We’re all buds, you can tell us. Red or purple or black or pink. . .Plaid? A shaking rainbow? What!?”

  "I’m not--”

  "Little man,” Pilgrim shouted with a smile. "Spill it! COLOR?!”

  "Green! Ok? It was green! Why, does that mean something bad? Please don’t tell Kiyo I said anything!”

  "GREEN!” Pilgrim exulted, then frowned. "Wait. . .what? What do you mean 'green?’”

  Rina had heard enough. "I apologize, but I must retire. Good speaking with you all. See you two back at the pub.” She was off before anyone could answer, cursing her indolence.

  The clever move with wisdom, Rina thought of the Archives, but the stupid give clear evidence. What now? What to do? What the maw do I do?

  ---------------------------------------

  "The women have abandoned us,” said the Given, his odd episode apparently at an end. The man himself now stood with a devious ease, but wiped his head of the sweat. "Hot out."

  Nail was surprised to find Fritz had left before even Rina. He adjusted his mantle so he could look down at the Tek, burying his racing thoughts under a smile. "We ought to be getting you home as well, lad. Hopefully your mother’s almost finished.”

  "I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna eat before I go to bed,” Pilgrim hooked his thumbs into that ridiculous belt.

  After years of leadership and countless nights of staring into the pitch black of night, hour to hour, moment by moment, all the while feeding his men a steady diet of lies ("It will be ok,” and "We will all live") Nail could employ cool deception when necessary. He made his frame and jaw loose as he teased out the implications of the great revelation of Ran’s timely arrival. That monster tailing him. . . Nail you fool!.

  He had not considered the possibility that Ran, or any child, could be his target. Shine needed time, nurturing, guidance, to reach the level Nail had felt on the other side of Nameless. Or so he’d thought.

  "Nail?” asked Tek, "You ok?”

  "Thinking about some of the finer points of our conversation, young one.”

  "You’ll be meditating on those finer points a long time, Rockman, oh Set Wars veteran," said the Given. "Gonna take some time for it all to sink in.”

  "You keep trying to bait me, Given. It does not work." He coughed and added, "I’ll have written entire volumes refuting everything you said before you’ve scratched even the surface of the Speech.”

  Nail had never, not once, even amongst the ones he liked, met a Given who had read the Speech or tried to understand the Confirmer. A not entirely welcome respect for this man had been kindled in him.

  "I beg pardon, gentlemen,” a slick voice broke in at Nail’s right. It came from a boy just older than Ran, though taller, broader, sterner, wearing a posh black suit and leather shoes. Pomp certainly out of place in this section of wordheal. Dark black glasses threw Nail’s image back at him.

  "Bit late for sunglasses, eh?” said Pilgrim.

  The lad ignored this, said, "I will not inconvenience any longer than is necessary. Does anyone know where I might find Ran? I understand he’s to be working around here today. I bear a message for him from Word Urba.”

  Ever ounce of discipline was needed to restrain Nail's hand. Thank One he left his blade at the pub. But he thought, Seeing Rokk, Ran! Have your enemies truly crept this close while I sleep and play debater and don't even know you? For once in your life, Starson. use rokkdamn reason! He wouldn’t be looking for Ran if he had him!

  "He was to work with us today," said Nail, "but he had meetings in Central, matter of fact.” A cheap attempted trick, but he played it. "Odd that one coming from those offices for him didn't know.”

  The boy’s jaw tightened just enough. "Ah,” said he. "I apologize. This city's government is infernally slow at times. I’ll return tomorrow before Gift.”

  "Your name?” Nail asked. "I, uh pardon for inserting myself, but I am staying with his family. I’ll get the message to him.” The boy didn’t reply, but only turned slightly so Pilgrim and Tek joined Nail within the shiny frames.

  Pilgrim pulled Tek closer, "Anything the matter, nameless friend?”

  The stranger sighed. "Unreliable partners. You know how it is. Everyone’s working an angle.”

  "Oooo,” said Pilgrim. "Let’s try again: What is your name, friend?”

  The way a master smiles at a pet’s prancing and scratching, adoring its silliness but also reveling, if silently, in his own superiority, so did the glasses-lad smile now. "Something about you feels familiar, sir."

  Pilgrim smiled but was silent.

  "Have we met?” The boy grinned.

  "Oh," and the Given drew in a breath between gritted teeth, "perhaps in some dark place. I’ve been in a few though, ya know? Who can say?”

  The grin on the boy’s face widened.

  Pilgrim nodded. "Skeel?” This caught the boy off guard. "That wavy ripple, like it’s made of cloud. Sky-steel. Glasses made entirely of skeel,” Pilgrim whistled.

  Nail looked closer, Damned if the he wasn’t right! How much less clever I am than is needed!

  Pilgrim continued. "Hunk o’ money right there. That much this far out from Hollow?” He clicked his tongue. "There are guy’s out there is this world gut you for a quarter of a lens. Be cafreful. This is a horrible place to pick a fight.”

  The lad’s smile faded. "How fortunate, then, that no one here wants to fight."

  "Sure.”

  "Pardon, gentlemen,” the stranger bowed slightly as he turned.

  "Still no name?” said Nail.

  Rigid as skeel and without turning he said, "I will see him later." And soon he was gone.

  "Creepy guy. Like Sitor. Why're there so many creeps?” asked Tek.

  Nail looked at Pilgrim, "There are odd people all over.”

  Pilgrim pushed the child to Nail, said, "It’s because of those that you should ensure Tek and Kiyo make it home unmolested. Ew. Weird even saying that word. So why did I?”

  Nail stared into the Given man’s dull, northern blues. He had grown fond not just of Ran, but of Tek and their parents. Nail’s responsibility, however, was to the Rock.

  "Cause you know, "Pilgrim continued, "when Ran gets home, he’ll want to be with his family.”

  Kiyo hollered from the porch just then, gave a parting hug to Ser Pau. "Ready fellas?”

  "Yes,” answered Nail, "more than ready.”

  -----------------------------------------

  E slammed the door to her modest room, stalked about it like a trapped, wet tiger and whispered over and over, "Rokkdamn, rokkdamn, rokkdamn.” She wiped thick sweat from her forehead, took out her pony tail, put it back, took it out again.

  Why didn’t I just leave as soon as the work was finished? Finished? Why had she gone?. She should have killed that guy and never gone! She had not the luxuries of friends and down-time. She should have killed him. A weapon that’s afraid to kill? But if I'd killed him I'd never know.

  It was Ran.

  Her mind shifted quickly, storms rising and falling across the horizon of her oceanic gauge. Kid. Kids! she thought. So much confusion that morning. His shine rebounding? Off the little one? Ran and Tek! A kid couldn’t have that kind of power. E pulled at her hair. How many times could she have jacked the kid and run by now? She had just dumb, stupid, idiot enough luck to walk right into him, right away, and not know it. How? Cruel world. Mocking world. Like always.

  She slid down the door, elbows on knees. "Rokk, what have I done? What have I not done?”

  In her growing terror at the recent appearance of so many new shiners she’d forgotten to prioritize the orange. Green shine, the kid had said.

  E sat in silence as the minutes passed, as the streetlights came on outside her window.

  Learn to adore silence, though it may be your death, you little mouthy-one. What to rage against life, or death? Life is nothing but revolt against death. Fight as long as you can; knowing all the time you will lose. This is strength, for it equalizes all men, and uh, women.

  Her teacher should be here. She should have died. She was less than useless.

  By degrees the main points all began to order clearly in her mind. The shiners weren’t fighting for Wordheal: it was Ran. They were here for Ran.

  "Idiot,” and her eyes snapping open. "Fine. I can fix a problem I see. What do I have going for me? One: The danger to First is tangential. Good, good. Two: it was Ran and Ran's here. They haven’t got to him yet. Three: the orange shiner isn’t a threat, at least he’s not trying to be. Four: No one knows me. Answer: I have to get to him first.” She stopped. "What does that MEAN?” She thought. What? Kill Ran’s family? Kidnap him? Kill him and them?

  "I’ll explain to him like Strauss did to me.” she offered herself. "Explain it to the family? They’re smart.” She shook her head. The family were true Given and Wordhealers both. She was Deathcloud.

  Eterna can’t be right, she thought bitterly. I can’t let him be right!

  The anger caused bright green to spiral off the shinasshu cycle on her gauge. She sighed, patched the wheel best she could. "I won’t kill 'em, so I have to take him.”

  When would she do this thing? Now? The shine she’d use getting out of the city alone would light her up like a green volcano. The shiners would come. That meant a fight, without beauty, with the kid to keep wrangled.

  "A crowd. If only I’d recognized this earlier, I could have done it at the stupid morning Given thingy whatever it is.” She hit her own face. "Ow. I mean, the Gift! Tomorrow!” Everyone in Wordheal would be there, dancing around like idiots. Colors. . .sounds. . .distraction."

  E wrapped her arms around her long legs, looked around the small room. The people who ran the shelter, Ser Pau, Kiyo and Tek. . .even that idiot, Pilgrim. She thought of Rina. Not since LJ had she felt simpatico like that. More than with LJ, in fact. He was a guy, after all. Betrayal seemed to characterize he life, to pour from her like fog from a loch.

  But that was all myth. Meaningless myth just like Heir. Kindness doesn’t move the world or create new ones, Strauss had said. Explosions, however. . .

  He'd hate her, the kid. Pain: the highest tutor, Strauss again. Ran was about to learn a lot.

  Those three though, the conversation, the understanding. A camaraderie for some reason. She’d never felt like that. Not even with Strauss. Cruel. Cruelty. Such a boundlessly cruel world ought not to have bright spots, for all they did was highlight the difference.

  Like a they follow in silence from an old story she stood and gloomily fell onto her bed.

  "At least I don’t have to worry about one thing,” she groaned. "Kid’s not going anywhere.”