She shakes her head. “I only remember the other children, when I was even smaller and my legs still listened to me. There was a whole pack of us, like wild dogs, living in the street in the Bottoms.”

“Nothing before that?”

“No.”

“Does that seem… odd to you? With a mind and a memory like yours?”

“Yes,” Dyeawan answers honestly. “I had a lot of long days to think about it, to really… concentrate on it, but there’s nothing there, not even little pieces. There should be something. I know that. But it’s like whatever happened then was dug out of the ground and there’s only a dark hole left. All I can see is the hole.”

“Interesting.”

Dyeawan grins. “Now that I know so many more words, I’m not sure that is the one I would choose.”

“I’m sorry, that was callous of me,” Edger says, sounding sincere. “I only meant…”

“I understand, Edger. I know what you meant. It’s okay.”

They’ve reached the end of the stony bank. A solid granite monolith rises from it, perhaps ten feet high and as big around as a centuries-old cypress tree. Dyeawan moves her gaze up its length. What appears to be an iron plate has been forged and set into the side of the monolith facing the shore. A single large rung hangs from the center of the plate. It’s wide enough for Dyeawan to crawl through, and thicker than one of her arms.

She’s immediately taken by the fact that she can’t discern its purpose, or what it could possibly have been built to do.

“What is this?” she asks Edger.

“A relic from another time,” he says, staring just as intently at the monolith. “It has stood here for thousands of years. It was here before the Planning Cadre was built, before Crache existed. We call it the God Rung.”

“I thought mythology was dangerous,” Dyeawan echoes his words without a trace of sarcasm.

If Edger could, he would grin, but he hasn’t even brought any of his masks. Dyeawan didn’t notice at first, but she is suddenly aware of his lack of expression. She finds herself wondering if that means he’s more comfortable around her than others.

“This isn’t mythology, it’s history, and one known only to the planners. Our studies of it and this island lead us to conclude it was used as a form of punishment, or more precisely, judgment.”

That sheds no light on the monolith for Dyeawan. “How?”