“Yes. But I was wrong. I know Ikaros a lot better than you do. He’s my sister Rhadamantha’s father, so he’s been around our house a lot all my life. He’s my teacher. He thinks he wants to know, but—”

“I’m right here,” Ikaros said, plaintively.

Porphyry looked at him and smiled. “Tell me truthfully you want Arete to explain it to you, instead of letting you work it out for yourself.”

“Oh!” Ikaros put his hand to his heart. “A hit! And from my own disciple!”

Porphyry smiled and sat down. “What are you doing out here anyway? You shouldn’t come this far alone. Your eyes aren’t up to it.”

“I keep telling you, I can still see perfectly well in full daylight.” He was lying. “The debate ended earlier than I thought, and I came to get something that’s hidden in the cave.” That part was true.

Porphyry’s eyes flicked toward the cleft in the cliff.

“If that’s where you’re keeping the head of Victory I can just go in myself and take it now,” I said.

“And fly home to the City with it, and set it back in the temple,” Ikaros suggested. “While I work on my theory of how it is that you’re a girl born in the Remnant City and grown up at a normal speed, but you can fly. You say you’re not an angel, and I admit it does seem unlikely. Maybe it’s because your mother was such an exceptional philosopher and you’re developing angelic abilities because of that. Maybe if we all study Plato hard enough the entire next generation will be able to fly.”

I laughed, because while he was joking, he also half hoped he was right. “You really do believe in the perfectibility of humanity,” I said.

“Despite everything, I keep hoping. And from time to time I find some evidence.”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” I said. “Once everyone knows I can fly they’ll always be getting me to carry messages and rescue kittens from trees.”

“I won’t tell anyone until I’m sure I have the right answer. But can I come to you with my guesses?”

“To me, or to Porphyry,” I said.

“And even if and when you have it right, perhaps you could incorporate it in the New Concordance anonymously, as in saying that a girl born in one of the Republics, rather than giving Arete’s name?” Porphyry suggested.

“But her name perfectly encapsulates what she is. As does yours, of course. But I won’t use it. You can trust me.”

I wanted to like him and trust him, but I couldn’t. “Why were you so mean to Maia?” I asked.

Ikaros blinked. “Maia? I thought she accepted my apology?” He was sincere, which wasn’t to say he was correct.

“You told her she doesn’t love anybody!” I accused.