"The flag is raised!" Kaya slapped Enim on the shoulder with so much enthusiasm that he crumpled the letter in his hand.

Kaya's eyes shone brightly. "Now we'll come from the shadows! Everybody will see!"

Her final words were no more than a hiss. "Including Naydeer."

* * *

The little courtyard lay deep inside the Mansion, behind a hundred turns of stone-walled alleys. So at least here the wind wasn't so harsh, and all the rain ran into carefully tended cisterns rather than down Kaya's neck. Kaya ignored the last warmlings in her cart, which no one was going to buy if she didn't move on.

But she had a reason to stay.

Kaya let her gaze roam over the loose assembly of people who had chosen to linger, to listen for a while, to put a word in. Right in front of her stood a thin old man with a white fur cap that framed his dark face like a mop of silvery hair. And indeed, the few curls that peaked out underneath were pale as snow too.

Slunyew. That's how he had introduced himself. And now his deep, hoarse voice rumbled through their little crowd. "Of course they'll know. You can't give a sneeze in the Mansion without people noticing." Slunyew raised his hand in a slow, even motion. "So what? Let them notice. We are holding a gathering. Why shouldn't we?" Slunyew stood firm and calm like a tree.

"We should!" A young boy next to him was practically bouncing with excitement. "Let's do it, I say, and let everybody hear about it too! We'll be in the Choosing!"

A stout man softly wagged his head, saying nothing. Another walked silently away. A woman with a thick brown shawl threw in a question, looking down at her shoe, kicking a pebble around on the ground. Her daughter had her arms crossed firmly over her chest, her gaze boring into Kaya.

Slowly, night descended over the Mansion, letting the cold creep in ever more deeply into the nooks and crannies.

Slunyew pulled the flaps of his cap down over his ears. His grating rumble wove into the tapestry of voices as a quiet steady base, a reliable ground beneath everyone's feet.

By the time Kaya left, the time and place for the gathering had been set.

* * *

Cahuan's gaze rested idly on the large, bulky form of Herun, who was singing softly in one corner. Quena had fallen asleep in his lap, pressing her little angel face into his belly. Her tiny fingers were curled around his thumb, and her fine hair tumbled all over her head in an unruly manner. She sighed in her sleep.

"Let's go to bed," Herun whispered to the twins, who were hanging on beside him with half-closed eyes. Herun carried Quena to the back corner, the twins in his wake. They both fell asleep before Herun had even properly tucked them in. There was quiet murmuring here and there, of children half asleep. Three older boys still huddled by the door, whispering secrets to each other.

Herun tiptoed around the kids lying on ground. "I will go now," he told Cahuan in a quiet voice. "But I can come back for four days next week, if you like?"

"Yes," Cahuan smiled, "that would be wonderful. You truly are very good."

Herun blushed slightly. "Thank you," he said. "I love it here too. It is great to see how you do things. How you relate. I am sure learning a lot here." He crouched down beside Cahuan and gave her a hug. Then he turned around to embrace Lhut. "I will see you next week, then." He waved good-bye to the Snuggery in general and ducked out into the rainy courtyard.

"He really is special," Lhut said thoughtfully. "Of all the people we have asked to work with us for a while, many have been good, and kind. But Herun is exceptional. And so much will depend on that one single person, on their spirit, their strength."

He caught Cahuan's gaze.

"Have we found our hero? Is Herun the one?"

* * *

In a narrow chamber hidden away in the Mansion's labyrinth, Yunda was looking into a mirror shard she had propped up on the shelf.

A thin, wiry girl looked back. One who had her hair cut very short, and was wearing a huge purple shawl wrapped around her like a sari, covering up her clothes. She looked familiar. And unfamiliar. Totally unlike the girl who had run from a work cabin, her gray trousers flapping, her long hair flying. Totally unrecognizable, Yunda hoped. And yet...

She pressed against the wall by the window and squinted out into the lane. A woman walked past. Then two men, in the other direction. None of them was the cabin master. None of them anyone she knew, anyone who might know her.

Yunda leaned forward cautiously. How long would it be before the master gave up searching for her? Very long?

It was not as if he would run out of children for his cabin. There were plenty, always. He had probably gotten himself a new one already, to take her place. And all the others were still there, she assumed. It was not as if children ran away from a cabin every day. But she had! Yunda proudly stuck out her chest.

And now she was here. With Herun.

Herun, who had promised to help her when she had literally run into him during her flight. Who would hide her, as long as necessary, and give her food and shelter even after that. Yunda wrapped herself more closely in her purple shawl, hugging her arms tightly around herself and dipping her nose into the fabric to smell the scent of Herun still lingering there.

Then she raised her head up high and gave a little hop, somewhere between a dancing step and a fencing lunge, that brought her back in front of the mirror.

* * *

With practiced moves, Kaya helped Lhut up out of the cartwheel and let him come to sit on the table. She had a look around. This would work nicely.

Slunyew had put the table up against one wall, an improvised dais, and emptied the room out of mostly everything else, to make sure as many people as possible would fit in. And that was indeed necessary. The room was not big, and it was crowded already. Yet more and more people kept squeezing in through the door. Slunyew's hoarse rumble welcomed them all.

"All right?" Kaya asked Lhut. "Ready to give rousing speeches and answer all questions?"

Lhut grinned and nodded.

"I'll leave you to your gathering, then," Kaya continued, "and be off to mine. I'll come back round when I'm done, to pick you up. Good luck," she said, and leaned over to kiss him.

"Som and I will be coming with you, Kaya," Pulan informed her with a short affirmative whistle. "We've heard Lhut speak twice already, and we would like to know if you say anything different."

"Not too different, I hope." Kaya smirked. "Although perhaps I do say it another way."

* * *

Herun waved his good-byes all around the Snuggery and stepped out into the muddy lane.

Big dark eyes were watching him from around a corner. Herun noticed, and slowed down. He slowed down more and more, until he had basically stopped in the middle of the street. He did not seem to be looking anywhere in particular, perhaps observing his shoes, the sky, the thatch on the roofs.

He stayed there for a while, with just one aimless step here, another there. Finally, the thin, dirty form of a boy of about seven became visible behind the street corner. He peeked out cautiously, still observing Herun, as he slowly allowed himself to be seen. He moved up along the wall until he was almost level with Herun.

Herun was still not looking at the boy directly. He kept his gaze on the ground and rocked back on his heels, nodding slightly. "Yeah," he murmured. "That's right. I'll just go back in for some food. Will only be a moment." And, keeping the boy in the periphery of his vision, he turned around slowly and walked back into the Snuggery.

Enim watched from his window. Something about the whole scene riveted his attention. Something about the boy. That boy. What was it about him?

Then a second shadow came crawling out, from behind the same corner where the boy had been hiding. A little girl this time, much younger.

And suddenly, Enim knew. That was the one who had attacked him during his very first days in Shebbetin, in that uncanny, terrible quarter. She had bitten his leg, and hit him until her brother had come to haul her away.

It was them. Those two kids, sprung from a place of violence and despair.

They were here now. Here, where Herun was waiting for them, patiently, as if for a wild animal. Here, where Herun was slowly getting to know them. Feeding them, when they would accept it. Talking to them, when they would allow him.

As they did allow now.

Enim could see Herun come back out of the Snuggery, a bowl of cold potatoes in his hand. He left it on a windowsill, from where the boy snatched it up eagerly, instantly handing one bit to his sister. They both retreated back against the wall of the house, but as they crouched there, eating, they permitted Herun to crouch down beside them, only a little stretch away, and to talk quietly, his eyes out on the lane, but his presence with them, with them always.