But I don’t care if this is a historic moment or not, bringing a human into the Caves. All that is grown-up stuff. I knew something was up when I asked Dad if I could bring you here and he didn’t say no. I’d been thinking how to be a royal pain in the pinfeathers and then it didn’t go like that at all. But then it was too late, I’d got used to it that I was going to be able to bring you here and I told myself the other stuff didn’t matter, the grown-up stuff didn’t matter to us—and Niahi, Niahi’s okay, and it would be nice if you could talk to more of us than just me. But it does matter, the grown-up stuff. Why the grown-ups wanted to bring you.
You’re not happy here. I never thought about that. I never thought . . . I shouldn’t have brought you. I wanted you to see the Caves, and I didn’t know how else to do it. They’d never have agreed to bringing a lot of you—you humans. I couldn’t bear your palace—even with you—if it weren’t that there are always at least twelve or a gazai of us around too. I was blind with what I wanted. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry....
Stop, she said, and put her hand to his mouth, as if he were human, as if he were speaking aloud. He dropped his own hand and dipped his head, pressing his nose into her hand, till she was looking at the arched crest of his neck, and in that moment she thought that the way his glittering black mane fell down his shining black shoulders was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Stop, she said. I knew before I came that it was really all about grown-up stuff, that that was the only reason they were letting me come. That you and I—the way we think of you and me—would be a little thing that happened accidentally too. Have you ever wondered what will happen when they lift the ban on letting us translate? If the guild lets them.... But I still wanted to come. I knew better than you did—I went to all those senate meetings. I thought . . . I didn’t think. Just like you. I wanted to come. It is worth it—whatever it is—to come. She couldn’t resist running her hands up his long silky face and down the perfect arch of his neck, and burying her hands in his mane. It’s that I’m all wrong here. You must feel it at the palace, even though there are more of you.
You’re not all wrong to me, said Ebon, and turned his head to rest his nose on her shoulder.
They stood silently for a moment or two and Sylvi thought, if I could just stand here like this forever, I’d be happy.
And then she sighed, and stooped to pick up the towel she’d dropped. I’d better get ready. Did you ever say when I should be there? Wherever. I don’t know where it is yet either.
It’s not like that, going into the Caves. The right time is when we all get there—the right time only happens some time after we all get there. That’s part of getting out of now, into— This time she almost heard the word as a distinct word, but she still had no translation for it: ssshuuwuushuu.
The way to ssshasssha, she thought. I wonder if Fthoom knows? I wonder how much our magicians know that they haven’t told us?
Time—
We have time, said Ebon. Time isn’t a—a thing. And the Caves are the Caves; day and night aren’t things either. And days—hours—are different.
The Caves themselves help with going there, with ssshuuwuushuu. You’re half there just by crossing the threshold. It’s why if you can’t go there yourself the Caves are harder—like the difference between jumping and being thrown. He paused. Once you’re there, it’s—it’s almost like dreaming, when you’re in your dream as yourself instead of your dreaming self, when you’re both nothing and everything in your dream. Everything matters when you’re not in now.
She gave a little grunt of surprised laughter. I almost know what you mean.
Ebon smiled. Of course you do. How could you not at least almost know anything I know?
It’ll be all right, she said.
Eah. Yes, it will.
But her heart was beating rather too quickly when she and Ebon arrived at the clearing near the entrance to the