"I was born there, on the node of Baheera," Rashad said, pointing to a small dot on the map of the Spiral. "I have a daughter there, Ghaniyah, but I have not seen her since she was a child. I am told she has a daughter of her own now, but I would not know."

Hermes slouched in the chair across from Rashad, arms crossed, face blank. They sat alone in the small room at the back of the bridge, having left Rumble to finish his preparations for the Kingsley jump.

"My father was the Crier of our city," Rashad continued. "Every morning and every evening, he would ascend the Calling Tower and sing to the city all that had occurred. He was a message-bearer, delivering in that song the jubilations and despairs of an entire metropolis."

Rashad's lips turned upwards in a slight nostalgic smile. He folded his hands and placed them on the table. Hermes just kept watching him. Why is he telling me this?

"Every time he performed the Calling, my father would append a message to the end of it," Rashad said. He cleared his throat, and sung low in his throat, an unsteady melody sung by one unused to singing: "Alu Rashadi qiyat alakassara shihanna."

Hermes blinked. Thus far, everyone he'd met had spoken perfect English. It hadn't occurred to him that they would have languages of their own, though it should have: he'd certainly come across words like dolm and docot, words rooted in other languages, but they'd seemed little different than than dangling foreign words like "entrepreneur" or "cigarette," divorced from their parent languages.

"What does it mean?" he asked.

"It means, 'My son, I hope you die before you stop crying.'"

"That's...really morbid," Hermes said, arching an eyebrow. Rashad laughed and leaned back into his seat.

"Yes, I suppose it is, in a way. It took me many years to learn what he meant by it. What my father meant was that it would be better to die than to become so jaded and callous that I no longer cared if I were hurt...and in losing that, forgetting how my actions could harm others," Rashad said. A penitent smile crossed his lips. "My father would be very ashamed of me."

Hermes tilted his head, regarding Rashad with a stoic gaze.

"Is that supposed to be an apology?" he said finally.

Rashad cleared his throat, but nodded. “Yes, in a way.” He sighed. “Hermes, I forget at times how young you are and how alien the circumstances you have been thrust into must be. I was only a few years older than you when I became a Courier, but I came to it with a childhood of preparation.”

"You knew you were going to be a Courier?"

"I did," Rashad replied. "The Hub is the home of every Courier, but few of us come from there. In every Node, there are a few individuals who are aware of the Spiral and the Couriers' place in it. My father was one such individual."

Hermes leaned forward in his seat.

"Do you think my grandfather could be one of those?" He must have! Why else would Angelo have asked to speak to him? But if that were true – if his grandfather knew of the Spiral – why didn't he ever say anything about it? Hermes mentally kicked himself. Would you have believed him if he had?

Rashad watched the play of emotions on Hermes' face and spread his hands.

"I could not tell you," he said. "It is possible that your grandfather may know something of the Spiral and its workings. When you next see him, you may ask him of it."

Hermes looked up at Rashad, eyes wide and pleading.

"Do you really think I'll get home? I mean, really? I need to know you aren't just saying that because you think you should."

Rashad seemed taken aback by Hermes' outburst; he opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to decide to say something else entirely. A heavy sigh made him shrink into his chair.

"No. You likely never will. I have not returned to my home in 38 years, and I, at least, know where to find it. The Courier's life – the Edict-bearer's life – demands his presence elsewhere."

"I didn't ask for this!" Hermes pounded his fist on the table, but it was a half-hearted gesture. You've already been angry over the unfairness of this, he reminded himself, but it seemed wrong to be so...accepting of it already. He didn't want to let go of being angry.

But never seeing his home again? He wasn't ready to accept that yet.

"I will get home. I don't care what I have to do," he said, punctuating the statement with a firm nod.

"And I shall do all in my power to help you, Hermes Swift."

Hermes nodded.

"Okay. So. I don't have to train with Narsil anymore, right?"

"Ah. I am afraid I cannot advise that," Rashad replied, offering a sympathetic smile. "You must continue your training with the Caduceus."

"What?" Hermes stared at Rashad. He shook his head. "You apologized!" he stammered. "You -- you said I was too young!"

"Your youth is a regrettable complication, but I must ensure that you are prepared to defend yourself from Arcadias. Suppose you were separated from us? How would you protect yourself?"

"Yeah, Arcadias is bad news, I get that – but why him? Iris told me that every Courier learns to use the Caduceus. Why can't she train me? Why don't you do it?"

"Iris is far too busy piloting the Herald and I --" Rashad cut off, shaking his head. "Narsil is the most proficient warrior I know. He is the person most prepared to teach you how to use the Caduceus. Whatever the nature of your personal distaste for him, you must come to recognize that!"

"Personal distaste? He wants to kill me!"

Rashad started to offer a rebuttal, but door opened before he could speak.

"What is it?" he growled, his eyes snapping to the intruder. Iris stood there, taken surprise by the uncharacteristic edge in Rashad's voice. A moment passed before she gathered her words.

"We're approaching Reisfall," she said. "If we're going to try to Jump into the Node, we need to do it now."

Rashad smoothed the sleeves of his robes and closed his eyes long enough to calm himself. When he opened them, he looked at Iris and nodded.

"Thank you, Iris. We shall Jump as soon as Hermes and I conclude our conversation."

Hermes pushed himself out of his chair and brushed past Iris before Rashad could say another word.

"Consider it concluded."