It was not until his wife's third sigh drifted across their salutatio hall that Valens realized he was carving a hole in their dining table.

Grimacing, he put his knife to better use dicing the odoratus roots piled atop the neglected cedarwood cutting board before him. "I'm going to kill them," he grumbled.

"They just got back, Valens," Arbita said. She plopped a basket of odoratus and pitted green olives from the palace garden before him.

He eyed the brimming basket sourly. Feeding four ravenous adolescents was a pain in the arse. Especially when those ungrateful brats never showed up to lessons when they were supposed to but somehow unfailingly arrived just in time to eat him and Arbita out of house and home.

"They know the rules," he grumbled, slicing the rubbery tubes lengthwise and then chopping them into discs. "They get two hours to themselves when they return from the field, and then they're mine. It's been four hours, yet they--"

The door slammed into the wall, rattling the amber resin lamps hanging in sconces where promenia lanterns had once gleamed.

Domi.

Valens cast his eyes up to the domed skylight that sealed the former compluvium from snow. He didn't even need to sense the wash of warmth against his back to recognize the energetic kid.

As footsteps padded into the salutatio hall, Valens twisted over his shoulder to glare at his alumna. "There you are." One student down, three to go.

In the corner, Diuturna--who had been sleeping peacefully for once--started to fuss.

Domi's face lit up, and he sprang toward the crib, scooping the infant into his arms before lifting a brow at Valens. "What? I was visiting Radix."

"You were off flirting," Valens corrected, "when you should have been--"

Arbita stepped between them. "I bet they missed you." She handed Domi a terracotta nursing jug.

"Yeah. They..." The boy cleared his throat, cheeks darkening to a rich blueberry. "Yeah." He slid into the chair across from Valens with a sheepish smile, tucking Di into the crook of his arm. He offered her the jug, and the baby latched eagerly, one tiny dark-olive hand curling around Domi's blue finger.

Some of the irritation swept out of Valens's body, as it always did when his alumna held his daughter. He glanced at Arbita, who smiled softly at the pair, a flask of vinegar forgotten in her hand.

This is my life now. He shook his head in disbelief. Less than a year ago, he had thought it would be snatched from him before he could truly embrace it. This quiet domestic moment had nearly been made impossible.

He drew a slow breath to slow his reaching heart. Arbita and Diuturna were safe. The twins and pups were safe. Everyone was safe.

"Well, it's time for your lesson, Alumna." He flicked a pointed glance at the cyan-trimmed blackwood door. "Where are your brothers?"

"Ficus and Lilio are trying to catch a glimpse of the Irtlij." Domi's lips stretched in a smug smile. "And I sent Dae to see Edera and the girls."

Valens arched a brow. "You sent--"

"Oh hush," Arbita said, joining them at the table. "This is a good thing. They need more time together, Valens."

"Well, I need time with my alumnas, Arbita," he shot back, but could not quite summon the justified irritation. Arbita was right, after all. She usually was.

"They can't really practice much of anything without Kaitlyn or Logos," his wife said as she pulled the chopped odoratus toward her and began sprinkling it with vinegar.

Case in point.

Domi glanced around. "Yeah, where are the eidolons?" He frowned as Valens and Arbita waved for him to be quiet. "What?"

"Don't talk about them," Valens said lowly, reinforcing his words with a soft wave of heat-speech. "Or promenia. Not yet." He hoped that the Irtlij's gilt could not pick up sound or speech from afar, but who knew what the promenia-like nanites the outsiders carried with them could do?

Domi looked from one adult to the other, radiating infrared swirls of confusion.

Arbita had not yet Blended--not while still nursing a young infant--but no one could fail to read the kid's expression. She pitched her voice in a low murmur. "Your ma asked Kaitlyn and the others to go spend some time on Seer's world. Quietly. At least until we have a better sense of what the Irtlij want. Bridger says she doesn't think our guests mean us harm, but they're oddly interested in promenia."

She paused and frowned, her nose scrunching in thought in the way that always caught Valens's eye. Would Diuturna one day do likewise?

"And they're not explaining why," Arbita continued. "It may have something to do with their own nanites, or it may just be natural fascination. But until we know more, it's best that Kaitlyn and the others remain out of sight."

Bright shock and muddy fear rolled from Valens's alumna as the boy's gaze snapped to him. "That's why you want us to practice," Domi said, his voice tight. "You think they might want to hurt us." He swallowed hard. "You want us to be ready to use restore magic so we can fight back if we need to."

"No one thinks they mean us harm, Alumna," Valens said hurriedly, reaching out to squeeze Domi's shoulder until tension bled out of the boy's frame. "But something just isn't quite adding up. And your ma asked Bridger not to pry it from the Irtlij's minds. Diplomacy." He snorted, rolling his eyes. "So it's best to be prepared."

Domi offered an uneasy smile, which soon shifted to something brighter that had Valens's eyes narrowing. "Speaking of diplomacy..."

"I know that face," he said dryly, exchanging an exasperated glance with Arbita before turning back to the boy. "What do you want?"

"You've heard about this school, right?" Domi tilted his chin down to the infant in his arms, nuzzling her with a soft murmur as she spat out the bottle with a milk-drunk gurgle.

"Yes..."

"Great. So, will you give me your permission to attend?" He lifted Diuturna to his shoulder and began patting her back. "And Dae, Ficus, and Lilio too?"

Valens bilnked. Domi wanted to attend lessons? Domi? "Why not have your ma sign it?" he asked, amused. "Or Ausus?"

The boy shrugged. "They said to ask your permission, since it could disrupt our lessons with you," he said lightly, and Valens scoffed at that absurd idea. He'd pull the kids out of class of he needed to, no matter their whining.

His eyes narrowed at the strange blend of cherry-red hope, burgundy smugness, and faint russet nervousness drifting off of his alumna. He studied the boy for a long moment, then shrugged. Domi was probably just worried about ending up cooped inside with him in lessons while his friends enjoyed adventures at the diplomatic school.

Valens slipped his awareness just enough into the dynamic whirlwind of Communion to locate the authorization form and imprint it with his approval, then jerked back into his tiny body with a shiver. His skin crawled, as though too tight to house the infinitely-large speck of dust he always seemed to be in the alien space.

"There," he said and rolled his eyes at Domi's grin. "I'll be teaching at the school." He nodded to his wife. "Arbita and Aix too. Might as well keep you and your brothers close." His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you'll actually bother to show up to lessons on time."

Domi rubbed Di's back with gentle circles, his grin widening. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Aedificanti."

***

"There you are, Bru," Tundir grumbled, her voice echoing from Vinus deck's bronze beams and sweeping windows. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

Bru grimaced as she withdrew her gilt from the Womb and turned to face the kids striding across the lapiz lazuli tile. Of course they found me, she thought ruefully.

Kapirnikus stepped around the shallow birthing pool, taking in the starlight reflected in the water from the skylight above, then lifted a brow at the freshly-polished Womb. "You volunteered for a workshift?"

Bru rested a hand on the glowing amber glass she had just cleaned. "Um... Yes?"

Kapirnikus stared at the softly pulsing egg-like Womb with utter confusion. "During freetime?"

Bru rolled her eyes. "Yes." She could have purchased some hours in the luxury deck, but then her classmates would have found her even faster. "So what?"

The fanged boy shrugged. "Well, whatever lights your stars."

She sighed and crossed her arms, glancing from one of her fellow Grains to the next. "Do you need something?" she asked, though she had a bad feeling that she knew what they had come to talk about.

The bad feeling grew as Tundir demanded, "Have you checked your messages?"

Bru bit her lip and twisted away to study the pool's midnight blue water. "Yes, I saw them."

"Well?" Tundir snapped.

"Well, what?" The gilt in the tub kept the water perfectly clean, but she busied herself with pulling the lever to cycle it.

"We're all signed up," Kapirnikus said. "Even Veli's parents gave their permission."

Despite herself, she found a smile on her face, and she glanced up to meet the platinum blond's pale-hazel eyes. "Congratulations, Veli."

Like all Penitants, Veli's parents abstained from most comforts, even gilt. Sending their daughter down to the planet for schooling was risky but a sign of commitment to the Mission.

"Thank you," Veli said, dipping her head and beaming at her shoes as a blush filled her cheeks. "Will you be joining us?"

Bru turned her attention back to the birthing pool and tugged the bronze lever again, listening to the gurgling water. "I can't sign up without my guardian's permission, and Hunibi's down there with the negotiating team, so..." She offered a shrug that she hoped looked casual.

"So you didn't look at the latest message," Kapirnikus said. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand to stretch his gilt into a glittering disc. "Seriously, look! Gilt, display this morning's message."

The flecks of metallic nanites shifted, smoothing into a vertical golden pool. Color rippled through the viewscreen, and  a moment later flame-bright hair and ice-blue eyes took shape.

No, no, no, Bru thought, her heart sinking. She'd thought the message had only been sent to her and to the other Grains' parents. How had Kapirnikus gotten a copy?

Hunibi cleared her throat. "I hope that you can all see this."

Bru's guardian walked in a half circle, and the view around her solidified from a blurry wash of black, blue, and red into an ornate bedroom with a view out a sun-filled bay window. "My gilt isn't always reliable down here, I think because of the distance from the ship."

She sat on a fluffy cyan cushion in the window and smiled. "Anyway, I'm including Bru on my response. Yes, if your kids will be attending the Seminarium Luminosa, Bru has my permission to join them if she would like."

Hunibi lifted her palm, and gilt sparkled around her fingers as she murmured something under her breath. "There, I've uploaded my authorization to the ship's computers. Bru, I hope that I'll see you down here in a few days. Bring your sketchbook."

She tipped her head towards the window, and crimson sunlight caught the metallic tattoo on her cheek, making the three-star constellation blaze like liquid fire. "Trust me, you'll want to capture what you see. The views are even more spectacular in person."

Hunibi's image froze, then fell apart in a cloud of glittering gold.

"Well?" Kapirnikus demanded eagerly as the gilt fell like dust to his shoulders and sank back into his raiment.

Bru swallowed hard. "I need some time to think about it." And to give my Legacy of Mind time to appear. If it will ever appear.

Kapirnikus stared at her. "What? What's there to think about?" He grapped her wrist as she reached out to pull the lever again and shook his head with a wry look. "I think the pool is clean enough."

"Everything rests on this," Tundir said, crossing her arms over strong biceps and frowning at Bru. "Everything. Don't you want to do your part?"

How nice it must be to know what your part is, she thought, but out loud she only said, "Of course. I just need to think it though a bit more."

"But Bru, we're a Shell," Veli said, her pale eyes widening. "We're supposed to be in this together."

Sejun shook his head at the others. "Come now," he said softly, "let's give her some time." He rested his hand on Kapirnikus and Tundir's backs, nudging them toward the door.

"Well, don't mull over it too long," Tundir said, scarlet eyes narrowing over her shoulder as the four Grains departed. "This is it, Bru. This is what we've spent our whole lives preparing for."

Bru drew a deep breath as the door closed behind them. The Womb's amber glass pulsed warmly against her skin as she groaned and pressed her forehead to it.

"What should I do?" she murmured.

The Womb offered no answers.