I drew the heat from my stones and let them settle into the ground again. I didn’t wait to hear Azaze and Oswin apologize to Myrrhtide. I went inside. When I found the maids, I asked them to fix some hot food and tea for Myrrhtide and Rosethorn. Then I climbed upstairs. The maids wouldn’t go near Myrrhtide’s bags. I took out a clean robe and some underclothes, and spread them on his cot. I fetched clean towels for him, too. Then I went to my room.

I heard a boy’s voice as I approached: Treak’s. “So have you seen these volcano kids Oswin was talking about?”

“I have seen them as small pieces only. I cannot see them as whole beings, any more than I can visit the chamber where they and their kindred live.” Poor Luvo. After visiting the lake he must have gone to my room for some more quiet. “They are part of the force that gave birth to me. Their power is the same as mine. If I draw too close to them, my existence will end. I will melt.”

I walked in. Not only was Treak there with Luvo, so was Meryem. Worse, they had my chunks of granite out, the ones I kept for an emergency supply of strength.

“What are you doing with those?” I demanded. “They’re magic. Luvo, why did you let them meddle with my magic things?”

“To keep them from meddling with things which might do them harm, Evumeimei,” said Luvo. “They cannot release the power from these, as you know quite well.”

“We’re not deaf,” said Treak, “we can answer for ourselves. We’re hiding from Nory. She wants to make a drag sled from blankets and branches. I told her wait till Oswin comes back. He’ll pull together some way to cart the rest of our things.”

“She says that’s lazy.” Meryem was putting my granite cubes in their wooden box. I was impressed that she remembered the right spot for each cube. “She says that if more people did for themselves Oswin wouldn’t work so hard.”

“Well, Oswin’s the only one of us who can get the grown-ups to help.” Treak was trying to juggle two of my crystal spheres.

I snatched them from the air before he dropped them. “Leave my things alone!”

“You’re as touchy as Nory,” Treak said. “Who cares about stupid old rocks anyway?”

I almost said, Who cares about stupid old humans, but I didn’t. Instead I ground my teeth and gave Luvo a very obvious look.

“Master Luvo’s different.” Treak waved a hand at Luvo. “He’s a god or a spirit or something. The rules are different for them. But regular old rocks just sit there. They don’t have a brain. They can’t speak. They can’t hear.”

“You show your ignorance, young meat creature.” Luvo was sitting on a wooden chair. He settled a little, and the seat bowed with his weight. I kept an eye on the seat. If Luvo forgot and settled again, the chair might break. “Rocks and crystals have memories far longer than yours. It was their memory, called forth by Tahar and Jayat, that told us of the first volcano here. Rosethorn can tell you of the prints of ancient animals and plants carried within stones. They can tell you of the changes in the earth and of the sea. You dwell here for a speck of time, but stones have the memory of thousands, millions of humans.”

“Stones can tell you about light and heat and water,” I broke in. “Look here.” I took the cloth roll of my alphabet from my back. Carefully I untied it, opening it up on the bed. I drew out my favorite stone. “See this? It’s an opal. The colors work because the crystals are arranged at different angles in the stone. Crystals bend light. Crystals know more about light than you could ever dream of.” Meryem bent over the opal, her mouth open. I hesitated, then let her hold it. “Some stones will keep heat for a long time. Others you can heat and heat and heat and nothing happens. Some will tell you all about the weight you need to press stone together so its layers blend. Some will say how long they took to move from the bottom of the sea to the top of the mountain. How is any of that boring?”

Treak shrugged. “If you have to ask me that, then you can’t understand my answer. Meryem, it’s just a rock.”

“It’s a beautiful rock. It’s the most beautifullest rock I ever saw.” Meryem gave the opal back to me. “I have a beautiful rock of my very own. There’s green and blue in it.”

“It sounds pretty.” I looked at Treak. “Just because you don’t understand, don’t pick on Meryem.” I took out the stone that looks like shards of blue ice crystals trapped in white ice. I showed it to Meryem. “No, I’ll hold it. It’s really fragile. It’s called kyanite.”

“Lemme see.” Treak grabbed for it. He broke off the long spar that stuck out of one end. He looked at the slender length of kyanite, then at me, shocked. “I didn’t mean—”

He was wearing a red shirt. The imperial soldiers wore red tunics. For a moment Treak looked a little like one of them. They had smashed their way into my room to capture me, and broken the stones I was keeping there. “No wonder the thing you’re best at is breaking furniture! Get out!” I yanked the stone from his hand. I didn’t even care that it cut him.

“You mages think you’re so great! You think even your dung is magic!” Treak reached for the basin. I think he meant to throw it at me.

Meryem seized his arm. “Stop it, Treak!” She looked at me. “He doesn’t mean it, Evvy! I can fix your rock, honest! Oswin makes this special glue. I can put your rock together!”