"Of course you should still write your report!"

Looking back up over her shoulder, Kaya gave Enim a vehement nod. "We will need it! When we are in the Council, we must still have some paper to hand to people. It can't be talk only. With my Kokish, on top of it. So yes, by all means. Write your reports! We will rely on them."

Kaya carefully stirred the embers in her oven, making sure they would keep up the gentle, constant heat the drying racks needed. The people renting the oven for the day would be back any moment now, bringing even more baskets full of berries and mushrooms. Subtle fragrances of summer and mountain were mingling with the scents of the fire.

Kaya straightened up. She crossed her arms over her chest. "However. If what we are doing here truly has power, it will put us in danger." Her face darkened. "If Naydeer has collapsed a ton of stone onto our heads for challenging her one mine, what is she going to do when she sees we are taking on the whole of Shebbetin?"

Enim froze in mid-motion, rack in hand. "You don't think...?"

"I do." Kaya's voice was grim. "At least, we have to be prepared. If we are truly bringing the Transition to Shebbetin, reversing all the power structures, the injustices and inequalities, then Naydeer is not going to sit by idly. I don't know what she will do. But she will not do nothing."

Kaya turned an intense gaze on Enim. "We shall work in secret. For as long as we possibly can. We won't tell people about the Choosing until we know we are ready to go. And you, don't tell anyone you're a Special Representative. Go on working as an artificer. With just a few contracts, so you still have enough time for the reports. But if you keep your cover, Naydeer will not suspect, and not threaten you in any way. Or us, for telling you all we know."

* * *

The clouds had gathered into high, dark mountains during the day, full of rain and charged with tension. They shoved and bustled each other across the sky, impatient and angry, pressing heavily into the wind but unable to find release.

Yet another storm broke.

Kaya's eyes were blazing. "You a tourist!" she snarled at Yoor. "You not know! Not understand. You not live here! You come here little days, look at things, then go home have nice life. You think all a big joke. You laugh. But this not a joke! This real life! For real people! You only dance. But it important! Important do right thing here. For real! If you know what mean 'real,'" she finished viciously.

Yoor blushed. He said nothing, staring down at the ground between his feet. Then he looked up again, past Kaya's face. "What if I do the right thing, and laugh and dance while I am doing it? Is that not good enough?"