The second man was generous and funny, with a booming big-chested laugh that made you at once glad to laugh with him and afraid that some day he might be laughing at you. Unlike clean-shaven Cosgrad, he affected a beard, and where Cosgrad dressed in formal trousers and the waistcoats of the Falcresti civil service, this man took merrily to khangas and farmers’ jellabiya and formal kaftan suits and Invijayish deel with jeweled chests and Segu’s saris in their infinite permutations and the rest of the Mbo’s dizzyingly broad wear. He seemed eager to learn, rather than to study from afar, and he took quickly to housework and chatter. His name was Cairdine Farrier. The shared C consonant on Cairdine and Cosgrad caused no end of trouble: quickly the two became Farrier and Torrinde.

Prince Hill threw a tremendous party to celebrate Tahr’s return. She stood in a circle of griots, dressed in full Prince-Mother finery with chains from her ears to her nostrils and banded jewelry over her breasts, a vision, a firelit icon of strength. The honeymakers brought comb and the gardeners brought sweet yams and the herbalists brought weed and people even came across the lake from Jaro to attend.

She told the griots everything, and bid them tell everyone they knew.

The two Falcresti men drew much interest. The Bosoka house taught them how to act with a child’s manners, eating and socializing with the right hand and saving the left for matters unclean. When instructions were given to masturbate with only the left hand (by a whole line of people solemnly jerking themselves off in charade), the shy one, Torrinde, gagged in embarrassment, and the loud one Farrier had to explain to him that they were being teased.

Tau-indi drifted through the revels feeling strange and hollow. Something was wrong. Shouldn’t Tahr’s return fill them with hope? Shouldn’t they weep in relief? Ought not the restoration of their family fill them with the warmth of nations?

Why did they feel so alone?

Because Kindalana and Abdumasi weren’t here.

Shy Torrinde had been convinced to take off his shirt and display the principles of isometric bodily control, which Farrier insisted allowed him to twitch his tits individually. Under cover of laughter Tau scrambled up to the high rock point where Abdumasi used to fly kites with them. They wanted a little solitude, the special adolescent solitude which many teenagers use as a plea. Please notice how hurt and alone I am, please come care.

The kite rock was already crowded, though.

There were two people on it, naked silhouettes in the moonlight, having sex. Kindalana’s slim back moved intently, her shoulder blades crowding and separating. She was on top.

“That’s better,” Tau-indi heard Abdumasi say, cheerful and unguarded, “I think that works! Yes, just like that.”

“I banged my knee,” Kindalana said.