When Dirva arrived at the squat house, I finally felt I could breathe again. Sorcha and I were smoking pipeherb on the platform at the time. I grew more stoned by the second, and when I am in that state, I am not terribly observant. Sorcha could do virtually anything through the haze of the herb and had an unwavering awareness of his surroundings built from a life constantly skirting the edge of the law. He saw Dirva first. He elbowed me in the ribs. “Hey, Lor’s here.”

I sat up taller. “He is? How does he look?”

“Hell, I don’t know. You’re the one that lived with him, not me. Look for yourself.”

Dirva walked across the Square with the same kind of contained purpose I’d seen him use when meeting with Qin dignitaries. It did not bode well, but I was stoned, and I have always had a hopeful streak a mile wide. I scrambled clumsily up to the roof and ran down the stairs of the squat house. I took a second to catch my breath, smoothed the front of my shirt, and stepped outside. He must have seen me, but he did not acknowledge me. He walked past me to the platform. He shielded his eyes and called up to Sorcha. “Can we talk?” he asked.

Sorcha leaned over the side. “You and me?”

“Yes,” Dirva said. “You and me.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I don’t see why not.” He jumped from the platform and landed in a plume of dust.

“I would’ve waited for you to use the stairs,” Dirva said.

Sorcha shrugged. “No harm.”

“You’re going to break something one day.”

“Well, when I do, Falynn’ll patch me back up. What’s up, Lor?”

Dirva may not have acknowledged me, but he took pains to keep me from eavesdropping. He led Sorcha across the Square, far out of my earshot, and angled himself so that he could see me in his peripheral vision. He would have caught me if I had dared to sneak over. I very much wanted to sneak over. Instead, I stayed where I was and watched them.

They spoke for some time. I confess, I thought it would be over and done quickly. Neither of them had had much to say to the other since our arrival. They spoke with warmth that was obvious to me all the way across the Square. There was laughter; there were smiles. There was an obvious comfort with each other in the way they stood. And at the end of it, there was a hug. When Sorcha started across the Square back towards me, Dirva made a move to turn away. Sorcha plucked at his sleeve until he nodded and followed Sorcha over. “Your turn to talk,” Sorcha said when he got to me. He slipped past me into the squat house.