“It made me feel like a little child, to have my father tell me to go say my prayers.” Isaac gave a quiet little laugh. “But the fault is mine, because apparently I did need my father to tell me.”

“And you were humble enough to do it when he told you to,” said Rebekah. “I’m afraid I’m so stubborn and rebellious that it would have taken me days to cool off enough to realize that he was only commanding me to do what I wanted to do already.”

“Well,” said Isaac. “Now it’s done.”

“Not quite,” said Rebekah.

“What else?” he asked. “I’m all talked out.”

“Good,” she said. “Because the next part doesn’t have much talking in it.”

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The rest of the festivities passed peacefully enough. Abraham didn’t single them out for any more humiliation, and Ishmael made no more gibes. As for Isaac, he acted as if nothing had happened, talking cheerfully with everyone as he always did. Nor did he give any sign that he noticed how there was always a crowd gathered around Ishmael; he was often in that crowd himself, and now that Ishmael wasn’t jabbing at him, they even seemed to enjoy each other’s company. It occurred to Rebekah that if they hadn’t been brothers, they might have been friends, in the weird way that people of almost opposite personalities often become close, admiring in the other the traits they lacked in themselves. For once the rivalry had receded into the background—for the moment—Ishmael seemed genuinely interested in the things Isaac talked about.

In particular, Ishmael listened closely to Isaac’s explanation of something he had been piecing together from the various records. “To put it plainly,” said Isaac, “the world is drying out, at least this part of it. Until grandfather Terah’s time, droughts were rare and brief. The problem was far more likely to be flooding. And the land we move through used to be very different. Tall grasses and trees—everywhere, groves and stands and single trees. And seasonal streams in areas where there’s nothing but dust or sand today. I think it’s safe to say the world has changed. The drought never ended. We just got used to it. We found ways to work around it. To live in spite of it.”

Ishmael got caught up in the details of the evidence, how Isaac had discovered this in the casual mentions of animals that used to be hunted in regions where no one could remember ever seeing them—and some animals that seemed to be of great size but whose names now meant nothing at all to Isaac. “What’s a curelom?” he asked. “Does anyone know?” Of course no one did. “Well, it was big, and now it’s gone. Hunted or driven or droughted into oblivion.”

“Or it got a new name,” said Ishmael.