Emotions flickered across his face: anger, resignation, a stray burst of happiness, resignation again. “Yeah, all right. Yeah, think on it long as you want.”

And I did. I left him there in the room and went to the platform. The summer night was warm. I needed space from Sorcha to make the decision; I think we both knew that instinctively, and I think it’s one reason he pushed me so hard for an answer as soon as he asked. But, to his credit, when I took the space, he didn’t intrude.

My mind is indecisive, wretchedly so, but my heart is not so patient. I approached the problem from a hundred different angles, but over and over the same thought came to me unbidden. Dirva thought on it and opened the door again. The possibility of redemption, I think, is embarrassingly seductive to me. I worried about what would happen to him if he returned to his life in Rabatha alone, with no one there to ground him. Just after dawn I struck out for Liro’s house. It was early yet and the streets were empty. The day was already hot. I was sweating when I knocked on the door.

Liro answered. He was dressed severely, in a loose Semadran tunic and loose Semadran trousers. He looked like a living mockery dressed like that. It struck me as brave for him to have dressed like that. Liro himself seemed unfazed by his choice of clothing. He grinned at me. “I called it,” he said, mostly to himself. “Dirva, I called it,” he yelled over his shoulder. He opened the door for me and ushered me inside.

Dirva was on the couch, drinking tea. He stared at me for a second, caught and frozen. He shot an acid look at Liro, which made Liro laugh. “There is no need to gloat.”

“The hell there isn’t.” Liro patted me on the shoulder as he let himself out.

Dirva and I stared at each other for a moment, then simultaneously looked anywhere but at each other. I was the first to break the silence. “I haven’t decided.” My voice shook, half with bravado and half with nerves. “I have some questions.”

“That’s fair,” Dirva said. “Do you want to sit?”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. The questions came out in a steady stream. “Are you going back alone? You’re going back without Liro? What about your family? Aren’t things still tense between you and Falynn? Why did you need so much time to think? Why ask me to go back with you? The training’s over. What is back there for me with you?”

“If you choose not to come with me, I’ll go to Rabatha alone,” he said.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” I asked.

He stared into his teacup. “I am sure that is what I will do.”