Orfeus liked her a little more for remembering Galahad’s name. “No. But there must be guitars somewhere in this town, I’m sure. You keep other old precious things.” She nodded at the books.

Rivasoa looked devoutly unconvinced. Orfeus could do it without her, but she’d really rather not. Use the resources you had.

“It only makes sense,” Orfeus said, as patiently as she could. “They go after passionate people, so I put on a show, get myself snatched –” hopefully not just instantly killed – “report back, save everyone and bring them home to their doting families, reap riches and fame. Secondarily. It all scans, doesn’t it? Or don’t you think I’m talented enough?”

In one sense, it was almost a test. Was she good enough, passionate enough to be taken? Was she passionate at all, or did she just want her name on the lips of strangers?

Rivasoa looked frustrated. “I’m not going to physically restrain you from staking yourself out for the vultures,” she said. Orfeus liked her odd archaic imagery. She liked nearly as many things about Rivasoa as she found horrendously irritating. Rivasoa clasped her hands together and breathed in, deep, through her nose. Out through her mouth. “Can you allow me merely ten minutes?”

Her foot jittered. The clock, ticking. Allegiances, and what they were worth. Orfeus leaned back and said, “I’ll give you twelve.”

She leaned back. After a while, she stood and prowled. Rivasoa sat still, sedate, not appearing to do anything. Her eyes glowed blue with those thin threads of wires.

Orfeus flinched from it, a little. She turned to look at the books, but honestly, it was less disconcerting now than when they had first met. She could hardly be hypocritical at the bodily modification the Elders practiced when she had modified herself so tremendously. To be better, to be stronger, to be who she was meant to be. They were all just people, after all.

After a while, in the silence, Rivasoa let out a small, soft ha.

“Ha?” Orfeus said.

Rivasoa looked up at her with her eyes flooded blue, then shook her head, frowning faintly. She pulled out a web rectangle and splayed out her fingers so it stretched, then tapped at it rapidly. Blue schematics sprung up, layers of grids, and Orfeus leaned forward, studying intently.