“Don’t say another thing,” Seven cried. “All right, I’m beside myself with worry. And I’m trying to go along with human concepts about the gods, though this is very trying. Besides that, your Jeffery is identifying so with Will that if Will does commit suicide—though I’m sure he won’t—I don’t know what Jeffery will do. And since he isn’t even one of my personalities to begin with, I don’t understand his part in any of this at all.”

Cyprus smiled one of the most satisfied smiles that Seven had ever seen, as she changed back into the woman teacher image with which she often conducted such discussions. “Jeffery won’t commit suicide now,” she said. “He has the book to finish.”

“But when it’s done?” Seven shouted. “Now I’m more upset than ever! He’s writing this conversation down, for the book. So he knows we’re talking about him. I don’t see how you got him to write the book in the first place!”

“Oh, Seven, I didn’t get him to ‘write the book,’” Cyprus said. She started laughing, but with such sympathy and gusto that Seven couldn’t be angry, though he tried. “Oh, is that what you think?” Cyprus cried. “Well, remember that you decided to forget some things that you know, in order to relate to your personalities better.”

“Well, Jeffery is writing this book,” Seven began, dubiously now.

“And you’re right. He won’t be happy with this particular section when he’s read what he’s written,” Cyprus added.

“But he does know what we’re saying about him!” Seven was so acutely embarrassed and exasperated that he threw his hallucinatory fourteen-year-old arms up in the air with dismay. “But Jeffery doesn’t even believe we exist,” he shouted.

And Cyprus answered, with an almost Olympian laugh, “He’s not as sure of that as he once was. In any case, we’ve been keeping him very busy, and material about Will does always upset him, so shortly we’ll have to give him some time to do his own notes.”

Seven said, almost accusingly, “All of this just might be too much for Jeffery. I don’t like his identification with Will at all, as I told you, or with the suicide question.”

This time Cyprus said, “Seven, the trouble with you is that you worry too much. You’re always afraid that people will make the ‘wrong’ choices. You’re manipulating Will, or trying to, and he resents it. Manipulation won’t work at all. Right now Will’s purpose in life seems to be to end it.”

Glumly, Seven nodded.

“You do have the answer; the way to help him,” Cyprus said gently. “But the decisions must be his. And Jeffery’s must be his, of course.”

“What about Jeffery when the book is done?” Seven asked.