“Ah, yes. Yes, there is,” he said. Some of his brightness dimmed. “It’s about your training. I thought about it. You’re right; Liro was right. I didn’t give you all the training you needed. I don’t know that I can give you all the training you need. And the other day, with Liro, when he said you were past your training, I saw your face, and you believed him.” He waited for me to say something, but there was a ringing in my ears. It was a thought, which had haunted me well before Liro had voiced it. I hadn’t wanted the shaper training, I’d sidestepped it, and over and over again the thought came to me that maybe the shaper in Ardijan had been wrong, that I should have had a different path, and that the window had closed on me. “Ariah, that’s not true. I don’t know where Semadrans got this idea, but it isn’t true.”

“Magical theory says…”

“Magical theory,” he said, “is just a theory. I never explained any of this because it’s complicated. And because I’m not very good at explaining things about myself. There had been little reason to until I took you in. Ariah, back in the City, Da found me a mimic to train with. I was like you: the shapers knew, but I hid it. They said they’d leave me alone if I wanted them to, and I wanted them to. Da knew, probably because he’d been raised here, but everyone else just thought I was smart, observant. Well, everyone except Liro. He…he knew, too.”

I had a guess as to how Liro found out, and I blushed. I couldn’t help it, and the embarrassment I felt at blushing in the first place made me burn a brighter red.