“They are no one,” Edger explains. “Like you were. Like I was. The difference is they had nothing to offer Crache beyond the burdens with which they were born. Not like us. Their fate was simple. They were intended for liquidation. The rest of the planners would have seen their bodies burned or buried or experimented upon until we could discern a way to use them to feed crops or the like, but I wouldn’t have it. I had them placed here to keep them close, to remind me of what must be done, and because of the kinship I feel toward them. They are family, in a way. Wouldn’t you agree? This is, in its way, our familial burial plot.”

Dyeawan cannot stay the tears that overwhelm her eyes. Her mind races to find any reasonable way to not accept what she’s just seen and what she’s hearing, and at every turn her mind is met with a closed door.

“They did not suffer,” he assures her, sounding almost offended, as if she’d already made the accusation. “They were ferried here in small groups after being plucked from the streets or dungeons. They were given a hot meal and mulled drink. The herbs secreted in that drink are a perfection of nature. They drew them into a deep, all-consuming sleep. Each slumbering body was then gently and respectfully lowered into the waters of the bay. None of them ever felt a thing, I promise you. I insisted on that.”

He waits for Dyeawan to speak, even if only to allow her to vent her initial shock and anger, but words continue to fail her.

“I have spent a great deal of time explaining the inner workings of Crache to you. Most of those lessons have consisted of telling you what Crache is not. Now you have to understand what Crache is. Crache is balance, Dyeawan. It is a perfect, harmonious balance of people and purpose and resources. That is what is essential. That is what feeds the fire burning in the forge of Crache. There simply is no place in our society for those people below. They can serve no useful purpose. Regular citizens will never accept them. They live only to drain precious resources. I give shelter and purpose to the few I can justify having here in the Planning Cadre as helpers and staff, Makai and the others, even you when you first came. However, that space is very limited.”

“How did you know I was capable of more when you first met me?” Dyeawan asks.

“I didn’t. I hadn’t an inkling of how remarkable your mind is. It was sheer luck. You were like a bird with a broken wing, even for… our kind. I have a severe weakness for broken birds. That’s all.”