"Yes," said Edhadeya, "and they're always swearing by him."
"They don't say his name outright," said Aronha.
"But Aronha, it's just a snake." Edhadeya wagged her head back and forth like a maize tassel. In spite of himself, Aronha laughed. Then his face got serious again, and he looked back at the sixteen soldiers, jogging out among the fields in single file, heading up the river to the souther border.
"Will they find my dream?" asked Edhadeya.
"If the Keeper sent you the dream," said Aronha, "it must mean he wants the Zenifi found."
"But that doesn't mean that anybody in Monush's party even knows how to hear the Keeper when she speaks," said Edhadeya.
Aronha glared but didn't look at her. "He decides whom he's going to speak to. It's not a matter of knowing how."
"She can only speak to people who know how to listen, which is why our ancestor Luet was so famous as the waterseer, and her sister Hushidh and her niece Chveya as ravelers. They had great power in them, and-"
"The power wasn't in them," said Aronha. "It was in the Keeper. He chose them, his favorites-and I might point out that none of them was greater than Nafai himself, who had the cloak of the star-master and commanded the heavens with his-"
"Bego says it's all silliness," said Mon.
The others fell silent.
"He does?" said Aronha, after a while.
"You've heard him say so, haven't you?" asked Mon.
"Never to me," said Aronha. "What does he say is silliness? The Keeper?"
"The idea of our heroic ancestors," said Mon. "Everybody claims to have heroic ancestors, he says. By the time enough generations have passed, they become gods. He says that's where gods come from. Gods in human shape, anyway."
"How interesting," said Aronha. "He teaches the king's son that the king's ancestors are made up?"
Only now did Mon realize that he might be causing trouble for his tutor. "No," he said. "Not in so many words. He just... raised the possibility."
Aronha nodded. "So you don't want me to turn him in."
"He didn't say it outright."
"Just remember this, Mon," said Aronha. "Bego might be right, and our stories of great human ancestors with extraordinary powers granted by the Keeper of Earth, those stories might all be exaggerated or even outright fantasies or whatever. But we middle people aren't the only ones who might want to revise history to fit our present needs. Don't you think a patriotic sky man might want to cast doubt on the stories of greatness among the ancestors of the middle people? Especially the ancestors of the king?"
"Bego's not a liar," said Mon. "He's a scholar."
"I didn't say he was lying," said Aronha. "He says we believe in these tales because it's so useful and satisfying to us. Maybe he doubts the same tales because the doubt is useful and satisfying to him."
Mon frowned. "Then how can we ever know what's true?"
"We can't," said Aronha. "That's what I figured out a long time ago."
"So you don't believe in anything?"
"I believe in everything that seems most true to me right now," said Aronha. "I just refuse to be surprised when some of those things I believe now turn out to be false later. It helps keep me from being upset."
Edhadeya laughed. "And where did you learn that idea?"
Aronha turned to her, mildly offended. "You don't think I could think it up myself?"
"No," she said.
"Monush taught me that," said Aronha. "One day when I asked him if there really was a Keeper of Earth. After all, according to the old stories, there once was a god called the Oversoul, and that turned out to be a machine inside an ancient boat."
"An ancient boat that flew through the air," said Mon. "Bego says that only the sky people fly, and that our ancestors invented that flying boat story because middle people were so jealous of the fact that sky people could fly."
"Some sky people can fly," said Edhadeya. "I'll bet old Bego is so old and fat and creaky he can't even get off the ground anymore."
"But he could when he was young," said Mon. "He can remember."
"And you can imagine," said Aronha.
Mon shook his head. "To remember is real. To imagine is nothing."
Edhadeya laughed. "That's silly, Mon. Most of the things people say they remember they only imagine anyway."
"And where did you learn tknt?" asked Aronha with a smirk.
Edhadeya rolled her eyes. "From Uss-Uss, and you can laugh if you want, but she's-"
"She's a glorified housemaid!" said Aronha.
"She's the only friend I had after Mother died," said Edhadeya firmly, "and she's very wise."
"She's a digger," said Mon softly.
"But not an Elemaku," said Edhadeya. "Her family has served the kings of the Nafari for five generations."
"As slaves," said Mon.
Aronha laughed. "Mon listens to an old angel, Edhadeya to a fat old digger slave woman, and I listen to a soldier who is known for his courage and cleverness in war, and not for his scholarship. We all choose our own teachers, don't we? I wonder if our choice of teacher shows anything about what our lives will be."
They thought about that in silence as they watched the small swarm of spies that marked the location of Monush's party as they continued their journey far up the valley of the Tsidorek.
THREE - RESISTANCE
"Nafai told me something once," said Shedemei to the Oversoul.
The Oversoul, being endlessly patient, waited for her to go on.
"Back before you... chose him."
"I remember the time," said the Oversoul, perhaps not endlessly patient after all.
"Back when you were still trying to keep him and Issib from discovering too much about you."
"It was Issib who was the real problem, you know. He's the one who thought of opposing me."
"Yes, well, but he didn't succeed until Nafai joined him."
"It was a concern for a while."
"Yes, I imagine. Both of them, struggling as hard as they could. You had to devote all your resources to dealing with them."
"Never all. Never even close to all."
"Enough that you finally gave up."
"Took them into my confidence."
"Stopped struggling against them and enlisted them on your side. You had no choice, right?"
"I knew all along that they were valuable. I decided at that point that they were the ones I would use to assemble a working starship."
"Would you have chosen them if they hadn't been causing so much trouble for you?"
"I had already chosen their father to ... start things moving."
"But it was Luet you wanted, wasn't it."
"Nafai was very insistent. Very ambitious. He couldn't stand not to be in the midst of whatever was going on. I decided that was useful. And I never had to choose between him and Luet, because they ended up together."
"Yes, yes, I'm sure everything worked out exactly according to plan."
"I was programmed to be infinitely adaptable, as long as I continue working toward the highest priorities. My plan changed, but its goal never did."
"All right then, that's the entire point I was trying to make." Shed-emei laughed. "If I didn't know better, Lady Oversoul, I would suppose you were protecting your pride."
"I have no pride."
"I'm relieved to hear it," said Shedemei. "I discarded my own long ago."
"What was the point you were trying to make?"
"Nafai forced you to listen to him, to notice him, to take him into account."
"Nafai and Issib."
"They did it by resisting you, and doing it in such a way that you had to adapt your plans to fit their... what did you say? Their ambition."