"She isn't much for good manners, is she?"
"Better than you," said Didul. "She invited me to eat with her at noon."
"You know perfectly well that you're already invited to have supper with us," said Luet, gently shoving him.
He caught her hand, laughing, then immediately let go of her and stood up, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"Didul," she said, "you are strange sometimes." Then, as she led the way into the house, she commented over her shoulder, "You don't mind that Edhadeya will be here tonight, do you?"
"Not unless I'll be in the way."
Luet only laughed.
In the kitchen, Didul and Luet talked with Chebeya as they helped her prepare supper. Akmaro came home with three young diggers who were trying to get him to take them on as students. "There aren't enough hours in the day," he said-obviously not for the first time- as they followed him into the house.
"We don't want you to stop what you're doing. Just let us follow you."
"Like shadows," said another.
"We'll be quiet," said the third.
"Maybe a question now and then."
Akmaro interrupted them and introduced his wife and daughter. Before he could mention Didul, one of them backed slightly away and said, "You must be Akma."
"No, I'm not," said Didul.
The digger, a young woman, immediately relaxed and came closer. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just assumed-"
"And there you see why I can't have you following me around," said Akmaro. "Akma is my son. If you believe the nasty rumors you've heard about him, I can hardly have you camping in my home."
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Don't be. It happens that at least some of the rumors are true. But you must allow me to have privacy and unless you're planning to stay for dinner... ."
The boy seemed perfectly content to accept the implied invitation, but the two girls hustled him away.
"Study with the teachers," said Akmaro as they left. "We'll see each other often enough if you do that."
"We will," said one of the girls-grimly, as if she were threatening some kind of vengeance. "We'll study so hard that we'll know everything."
"Good. Then I'll come and learn from you, because I hardly know anything." With a smile, Akmaro closed the door behind them.
"Now I do feel guilty," said Didul. "It seems I routinely get what they're begging for. And if having diggers around would cause problems with Akma, think of how he'd react if you tried to let me tag along."
"Oh, you're completely different," said Akmaro. "For one thing, you know as much as I do."
"Hardly."
"So we can discuss things as equals. That would never be possible with them-they're too young. They haven't lived."
"There's a lot I haven't done yet," said Didul.
"Like marry-there's a thought."
Didul blushed and immediately started carrying the cool clay mugs into the front room of the house. He could hear Luet behind him, quietly remonstrating with her father. "Do you have to embarrass him like that?" she whispered.
"He likes it," Akmaro answered-and not in a whisper.
"He does not" Luet insisted.
But he did like it.
Edhadeya arrived just before the appointed time. Didul had met her a couple of times before, and always under the same circumstances- dining with Akmaro's family. Didul liked the fact that she and Luet were such good friends. It pleased him to see that Luet wasn't just a tagalong, that in fact she wasn't at all worshipful or deferent, beyond the normal courtesy of friendship. Clearly Luet knew Edhadeya as a person and hardly thought of her as the king's daughter. And Edhadeya, for her part, was completely natural in Akmaro's house, with not a hint of affectation or authority or condescension. Her experience had always been different from other people's lives, but she seemed to be endlessly fascinated with other people's thoughts and observations, not regarding her own as superior in any way.
The conversation turned quite early to the trial, and Akmaro just as quickly begged them to talk of other things. So they spent a lot of the dinner talking about Shedemei. Didul listened in fascination to their impression of the school, and Edhadeya had so much to say that finally he realized that, unlike the others, she wasn't just remembering a single visit. "How often have you been there?" he asked.
Edhadeya looked flustered. "Me?"
"Not that it matters," said Didul. "You just seem to speak as one who is ... involved."
"Well, I've been back several times."
"Without me!" Luet cried.
"It wasn't a social visit," said Edhadeya. "I went there to work."
"I thought she said you couldn't," said Chebeya.
"She also told me not to wait."
"So did she let you help?" asked Luet. "If she did I'll never forgive you for not taking me."
"She has never let me do anything," said Edhadeya.
"But you still go," said Didul.
"I sneak in," said Edhadeya. "It isn't hard. It's not as if the school is guarded or anything. I go into the courtyard if Shedemei isn't there, and I help the younger girls with their reading. Sometimes I've had nothing better to do than take a mop and jar of water and wash down the floors in a corridor while everyone else was eating. A few times I've been in and out without Shedemei seeing me, but usually I get caught."
"I should think that the children or the other teachers would report you the moment you're seen," said Akmaro.
"Not at all," said Edhadeya. "The girls appreciate my help. And so, I think, do the teachers."
"What does Shedemei say when she throws you out?" asked Didul.
"It's quite colorful," said Edhadeya. "She keeps explaining to me that when she said I wasn't supposed to wait, she meant that I shouldn't just wait. That I should be actively involved in life, getting some experience to help me put my book learning into perspective."
"So why don't you do as she asks?" said Akmaro.
"Because I think that sneaking into her school and teaching without her spotting me is an excellent experience."
They all laughed at that. The subject eventually turned from Shedemei to speculations on what Rasa's House must have been like, back on the planet Harmony, and from there the conversation drifted to talking about people who had seen true dreams from the Keeper. "We keep talking about true dreamers as if they were all ancient or far away," said Luet, "but it's worth remembering that every single one of us has had at least one true dream. I haven't had any since I was little-but then, I haven't needed anything as much as I did then. Have you dreamed since those old days, Didul?"
Didul shook his head, not really wanting to talk about "those old days."
"I don't really dream,"said Chebeya. "That's not a raveler's gift."
"But the Keeper still shows you things," said Luet. "That's the thing we have to remember-the Keeper isn't just something that our ancestors believed in. She isn't just a myth." To everyone's surprise, tears suddenly came to her eyes. "Akma keeps saying that we're fooling ourselves, but we're not. I remember how it felt, and it was different from any other dream. It was real. Wasn't it, Edhadeya?"
"It was," said Edhadeya. "Pay no attention to your brother, Luet. He doesn't know anything."
"But he does," said Luet. "He's the most intelligent person I've ever known. And so vigorous in everything he says and does-he was my teacher when I was little, and he's still my teacher now, except for this one thing-"
"This one little thing," murmured Akmaro.
"Can't you make him see, Father?" said Luet.