"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.

"You can't make people believe things," said Chebeya.

"The Keeper can! Why doesn't the Keeper just... just send him a true dream?"

"Maybe the Keeper does," said Didul.

They all looked at him in surprise.

"I mean, didn't the Keeper send dreams to Nafai's older brothers?"

"If it makes any difference," said Edhadeya, "it was the Oversoul."

"I thought Elemak had at least one true dream from the Keeper," said Didul. "Anyway, there was also Moozh. The one that Nafai wrote about-Luet's and Hushidh's father. The one who fought the Over-soul all the way, but he was really doing the Oversoul's will the whole time."

"You can't imagine that Akma is somehow doing the Keeper's will!" said Edhadeya. "Hating the poor earth people and wanting to get them excluded from the kingdom!"

"No, I don't mean that, I just mean-that you can resist the Keeper if you want to. How do we know Akma isn't having true dreams every night, and then getting up in the morning and denying that the dreams meant anything at all? The Keeper can't make us do anything. Not if we're determined to fight him."

"That's true," said Akmaro. "But I don't think Akma is dreaming."

"Maybe he dreams true so much that he doesn't realize that other people don't," said Didul. "Maybe his intelligence is partly a gift from the Keeper, unfolding truth to him in his mind. Maybe he's the greatest servant the Keeper has ever had, except that he refuses to serve."

"That's a big exception," said Chebeya.

"All I'm trying to say is that it wouldn't necessarily change Akma's mind to have a true dream. That's all I'm saying." Didul went back to the sugared fruit Edhadeya had brought for dessert.

"Well, it's a sure thing persuasion hasn't done anything," said Akmaro.

Chebeya made a little high-pitched sound in her throat.

"What was that?" said Akmaro.

"That was me," said Chebeya. "Giving the tiniest possible laugh."

"What for?"

"Akmaro, Didul has made me see things in a new way. I wonder if we really ever have tried to persuade Akma."

"I know I have," said Akmaro.

"No, you've tried to teach him. That's another matter entirely."

"All teaching is persuasion," said Akmaro. "And all persuasion is teaching."

"Then why did we bother to invent two different words for it?" asked Chebeya teasingly. "I'm not accusing you of anything, Akmaro."

"You're accusing me of not even trying to persuade my son, when you know I've tried till my heart has broken." Akmaro was trying to keep his tone light, but Didul could hear the emotion behind his smile.

"Please don't be hurt," said Chebeya. "We all know you've done your best. But we've also left it up to you, haven't we? I've been content to be the loving mother who tries to keep the connection with Akma strong. I've left all the arguing up to you."

"Not all," said Luet grimly.

"Akma is here so little, I've been afraid to argue with him for fear of losing him entirely," said Chebeya. "But because of that, perhaps he thinks that it's only a matter between him and his father. That Luet and I are neutral."

"He knows I'm not," said Luet.

Akmaro shook his head. "Chebeya, there's no need. Akma will grow out of this."

Tears started slipping down Chebeya's cheeks. "No he won't," she said. "Not now. This whole business with Shedemei-"

"Akma doesn't have anything to do with that, does he?" asked Didul.

"The people who brought charges against her," said Chebeya, "they won't give up. It can't be a secret from them how the son of the high priest feels about things. They'll find a way to use him. If nothing else, they'll flatter him, agree with him. Akma is hungry to be loved and respected-"

"We all are," said Edhadeya softly.

"Akma more than most, in part because he feels that perhaps he has never had the love and respect he wanted at home." Chebeya reached out a hand toward her husband, as if to soothe him. "Not your fault. It's just the way things looked to him, from the beginning, from those awful days back in Chelem."

Didul looked at the ruins of his meal in front of him, his face burning as he remembered how he had treated Akma. The picture came so easily to his mind, more vivid perhaps now than it had been at the time. Little Akma crying and sputtering in fury as Didul and his brothers laughed and laughed. Then Akma crying in pain, a very different sound, a terrible sound... and still they laughed. Still I laughed, Didul thought. Does Akma hear that sound even now? If it's even half as clear in his mind as it is in mine... .

He felt a hand close over his. For a moment he thought it might be Luet who touched him, and he wanted to tear his own hand away in shame at his unworthiness. But it was Chebeya. "Please, Didul. You're so much a part of this family that we forget sometimes that you hear some things with different ears. No one blames you here." Didul nodded, not bothering to argue. Chebeya turned the conversation to other things, and the rest of the meal passed in peace.