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It's long past midnight when our dinner is over.

True to her promises, Ma hands me an old, dusty mattress that smells of the basement and lavender, and I give my pajamas to Loretto, secretly praying that Mentor puts them on right after the shower and does not come out of the bathroom in faer favorite nakedness, which is unacceptable in this house.

And knowing that Loretto loves long showers, I'm now going to talk to Cale.

The moonlight glides across the wooden walls of the second-floor hallway as I walk along it, and the sudden silence after the dinner chatter reawakens my anxiety.

I love my house with all its shabby walls, but the feeling that I'm a stranger here now begins to gnash inside me again, like a rusty nail against glass. When I get to the door of Cale's room, when I'm about to knock, I hesitate, remembering the convincing words that I've been rehearsing for several days.

Yet, without waiting for my determination, the door swings open.

"Come in," my brother says, stern, like an officer on duty, and without warning pulls me into the room.

With my stomach full after dinner, I feel like a lazy, anxious barrel, so my body doesn't even have time to instinctively resist when I find myself inside.

The room is stuffy and dark. Only one lamp is lit. In the two months of my absence, nothing has changed here, although I note to myself that there're a few dirty mugs on the table, and a pile of unwashed socks on the bed...Too many everyday things scattered around. It's unusual for Cale lately, because he spends the night with his fiancée most of the time. She has a spacious house where she lives alone with her father--who also shares Cale's rebellious endeavors, so there, he is like a star on top of a Christmas tree.

He and his fiancée definitely quarreled, since all the things are here," I realize, gloomy. This is bad, because a brother who is dissatisfied will be hot-tempered and more categorical than I need him to be when I start arguing with him.

And Cale was obviously standing guard at the door, waiting for me to come up, since he'd opened right away. It turns out he's also nervous today.

And of course, he's not alone in the room. Kofi is also here, wearily picking at a hangnail on his thumb and not even looking up at me when I enter.

Seconds drag on in anticipation.

Kofi doesn't look at me, but Cale is boring his eyes into me with an expectant look, it seems, calculating something in his mind again. Surely this is my chance--I need to blurt out everything at once about the Empress, her spies who know all the secrets of the rebels, the Trials in which we have a chance to prevail only if Tayen wins...But all my rehearsed speeches disappear from my head.

I'm face to face with my older brother, whose expression now is hard as a brick. He's also taller than me. Wider in the shoulders. Looks like a wardrobe--if you drop one, it will crush you.

With horror snaking down my spine, I suddenly realize that I won't be able to argue. Cale always waves his fists to protect me in fights, but what happens if those fists fly at me? I can't even imagine, this has never happened. But I came to argue! For Cale, an argument is equal to a fight, a fight means fists, fists mean someone's broken jaw--otherwise victory, the one that's above all for him, does not count.

And since no jaw except mine is going to say arguments that Cale doesn't like today...I run my tongue over my teeth, anxious. My teeth begin to ache, as if I have already been punched.

My enthusiasm, collected bit by bit on the way here, crumbles, and once again I regret that I did not leave this problem to Loretto. How coward and selfish of me.

"Well?" Cale asks, when I stay mute. "Tell me."

"Wh-what?"

Cale's eyebrows meet in distrust.

Kofi saves the situation again.

"I told you, he just missed us," he says, yawning. Sitting on the edge of the table, he looks at me without a shred of suspicion, then with condescending reproach turns his eyes to Cale. "There's nothing to tell, everything works like clockwork, our plan is perfect. Can I go to bed now? I have a date tomorrow, I need to get some sleep."

"If he has nothing to tell, then why is he still awake?" Cale objects. He doesn't take his eyes off me. Am I being interrogated? "And what kind of sugary Tom is that, Eli? Do you hang out with shaman servants now? Where did you pick him up?"

"Not him, but..." Loretto. The name almost comes out next, but I stop myself in time. "But Tom. Fae. Faer. Without "him" and "her". Tom likes it that way. Without stereotypes."

"This is a strange choice."

"A strange choice is to call yourself the King of Chamber Pots, Cale."

There is a pause. I can hear the wind whistling through the cracks of the old window frame. The floorboards creak behind the door when someone passes by on the other side...

And then Kofi bursts out laughing.

"The King of Chamber Pots! Baby pots for poop, ooooh!" Kofi cackles shamelessly and godlessly, making so much noise with his voice that it's enough sound for all three of us. His unruly dreadlocks are swaying to the beat of his laughter, his thin palms with long fingers enthusiastically slap his knees. "Oh, I forgot your shameful nickname, brother. And why not Poop King right away, huh? Ha-yes..."

Cale freezes, his determination melts as we touch a vulnerable chord of his soul.

"I'm not...shut up, Kofi!" Cale starts rubbing his forehead, lost. "How do you even know that, Eli? I told Ma not to tell you. I was only three then, just so you know. And my pot was excellent, if you haven't been told that either. Snow-white, with a high back, like a marble throne. Kofi, shut up, I said! Poop has nothing to do with all that."

Pushing away Kofi, who is still laughing like a hyena, Cale walks away and, crossing his arms over his chest, plops down on the bed angrily, dirty socks falling to the floor in disappointment. Cale now looks at us with mute condemnation.

Nothing undermines Cale's confidence and self-esteem like someone else laughing at him. Especially if the one laughing are family members--the closest ones, those who are supposed to praise and love him unconditionally.

I suppose love becomes a fragile thing, when since childhood, you have a feeling that you have to earn it. He had to babysit me, his younger brother, while our parents were busy. To defend his rights in school scandals by himself, when other fathers came, and ours had always more important things to do.

Maybe that's why the rebellion against the shamans is so important to him? Where can you earn more adoration from others than at the head of your personal army?

For a moment, I even feel sorry for Cale, guilt building in my chest. But...what was he expecting? That I would meekly listen to his reproaches?

"Shut up," Cale repeats as Kofi continues to laugh.

Kofi shuts up, but only when he wants to. After a long minute.

"No offense, Cale. Ma barely told Eli anything about your poop," Kofi says, winking at me. He doesn't look sleepy anymore, just cheerful. And he adds with enviable pride, "But Ma told my mom. Mom told me, and I told Eli."

Cale mumbles something unintelligible in response, but no longer snaps. No matter how touchy he is, he is also quick to regroup. However, now that I have a moment to think, I find myself with a new idea: Kofi. Kofi is the one I have to win over to my side. My stepbrother is much easier to convince, but his influence on Cale is enormous. If I'm afraid that a wardrobe can fall, I just need to use the lever that this wardrobe will lift. And that lever is Kofi. I can convince Kofi that shamans are our friends, and Kofi will convince Cale.

Nevertheless, I don't have time to talk about a serious topic again, because Kofi, who has forgotten his drowsiness, hangnail and laziness, pushes away from the table.

"Well, since we've already gathered here without doing anything...Eli, tell me, do you trust your Tom?" Kofi asks, the corners of his lips twitching somewhat ambiguously when our eyes meet.

"I do."

"No, I mean, can I..." His lips spread wider. When he sees that both Cale and I are looking at him with absolute bewilderment, he sighs and makes a gesture that is not at all ambiguous: inserts the index finger of his right hand into the ring formed from the thumb and index finger of his left hand.

My ears burn. It's a good thing they can't see it in the dimness of the room. "No, Kofi! Ugh! You're with...ugh. Don't even dare dream!"

"Why?" Kofi is genuinely surprised. "You brought such a beauty into the house, Eli, why should it wither without love? I know you and Cale, you won't take the chance. I bet Cale had sex twice in his life, otherwise he would have known about the existence of condoms and Shanta would not have come to meet us, already pregnant. And you..." He pretends to squint, looking me up and down, which makes me want to push him too, to wipe the smug expression off his face. "You little boy still button up your shirt cuffs like a nun. Probably, at the sight of that, no one wants to tell you what must be thrust where. Yes, I'm sure, otherwise you wouldn't walk around with such a seductive person, calling faer a friend."

I find myself dumbstruck. Of course, I know that looking for carnal pleasures, Kofi always honestly cares about the pleasures of his chosen ones, but this only drives me into a stupor, because this time it's not about someone, but about Loretto.

"Besides, if Tom loves without stereotypes, as you say," continues Kofi, "not "he" and not "she"...it turns out that the bird is universal, am I right?"

"No. I mean... maybe..." Maybe? "I don't know!" The words are getting confused in my head now. I've been trying so desperately not to imagine this for the last few days, and now Kofi literally pokes my nose into my smoldering thoughts of shame and desire. "Nobody's universality has anything to do with names, Kofi!"

"Well, maybe. But I would like to check. Come on, Eli, you can sleep in my bed tonight, and I'll be happy to put up with your mattress and at the same time keep Tom company for the night. So to speak, I will show real friendship in all its taste."

"You have a date tomorrow, right?"

"So? The third one won't hurt."

"What do you mean..."

"In the middle."

I stare at him. My throat stings, and I realize that no, it's not a stupor. Kofi's hints now either infuriate me or frighten me. Both?

Yes, both.

They're infuriating, because how dare anyone get involved with Mentor who belongs to me? I have a cosmic feeling in my chest, as if I dedicated my life to gaining Loretto's trust, and now Kofi wants to butter up through me? Take it away? Take all my credit for himself?

I'm sure it won't work, of course. Loretto, at best, will laugh and humiliate Kofi, and at worst...will fae push him off the stairs? Break his shameless hands?

But the same thought is frightening because...Obviously, I still don't have enough faith in myself. I learned to tame magic, but my fears...what if Mentor didn't react to my kiss in the bakery not because fae didn't want anything like that, but because I was there? Me, uninteresting and unskilled. And Kofi is skilled. Very. Who knows, maybe his kisses drive people crazy like witchcraft, too?

"We had an important conversation planned here, and you have sex on your mind again?" Cale interjects, slowly regaining his fighting look. He pushes off of his bed, walks to the door, behind which something creaked again, listens, but not hearing anything else, turns to us.

"And sex, in your opinion, is not important?" Kofi retorts.

"No, normal people don't waste time on such nonsense."

"Oh, well, we just found out why you're so normally dissatisfied all the time. How did Shanta ever get you to take off your pants at least once..."

Cale's eyes flash. "I'm going to pull your obscene pants over your head!" He growls.

"Try it if you catch me!"

However, Kofi is in no hurry to run away.

And Cale, glancing from under his brows, just clenches his fists and puts them on his hips. Not once in my memory have my brothers' arguments ended with their pants pulled over their heads. Cale is always ready to fight, but his household is sacred.

In theory, I have nothing to fear then, either, but for Cale, revolution is a holy goal, too. They say that in the old days, the children of kings killed each other for the throne, and... I'm not sure if Cale's love for me will prevail over bruises if I say that, although I don't want to occupy the throne, I won't give it to him, either. And the throne is no some funny pants.

However, I am now troubled by another thought.

My brothers were waiting for me to discuss a dangerous, deadly coup plan, and now they're bragging about sex and... poop? If these two people are the main driving force behind our rebellion, then it was doomed to failure from the very beginning.

But how did I not notice this before? In my memory, Cale is incorruptible and ruthless, and Kofi is cunning and flexible as a hurricane. And here... Mentor's lessons did me good in a completely different way than I expected. Now I see flaws in people that I would not like to see in order to remain happy.

Having been among shamans, far from my native areas and painfully familiar people, now having someone to compare with, I come to a deplorable conclusion: This is the end. Cale just needs to bully someone and win something in order to feel alive and loved. And for Kofi, everything around is a game, like a nighttime romp on a mattress.

I think I understand Faris's words now. Why would Maricela get her hands dirty to get rid of someone like Cale who thinks he's a politician if Cale can dig his own grave? Maricela can simply eat popcorn and watch. And I can't even blame her for that, I think, quietly and nervously biting my lips.

"...you're just saying that because you've never been in love, Kofi," Cale continues, forgetting about me. "You have never met someone who you would not like to share with anyone and let go."

"That sounds selfish."

"It sounds sincere."

"Nah, in my opinion, you're confusing sincerity and a good hot night. Loving someone doesn't mean fucking, you know. I love you guys, so what? I don't want to fuck you. Oh, that's disgusting! Not. For. Anything."

Kofi thinks, starting to pace around the room. He taps me on the shoulder as he passes by and continues.

"You two and I are too much alike, I suppose that's the point. There is no spark between people who are alike, you know? Only friendship. That's why we're brothers. Not by blood, but by heart. And when people are different enough to have a spark, but also understanding enough for friendship...hmm, I think that's what love is, or, as you call it, Cale, sincerity. Well, or auto-suggestion. It doesn't happen to me, but..." Theatrically throwing up his arms, where the sleeves of his shirt are not buttoned, like a nun-me, he grins. "But sex, oh! It's like a dessert, can you imagine? You can live without it, but, gods, how delicious it is! You can't resist it if you're in the mood."

And Kofi should be enrolled in the Yaling's book porn club, that's where he will make a revolution, I don't say this out loud, I just keep biting my lips.

"Your dessert will fall off if you stick it everywhere and often," Cale snorts.

Kofi laughs.

"It's your dessert that's going to fall off. As unnecessary. If you use it twice in your life, just to make children. Sex is an art! You think your carrot cookies are the art of cooking, don't you, Cale? Why am I worse? My work is also not made of shit and pots, understand it already. I am aware of how to make it tasty and safe, and even healthier than your overly sugary concoction."

Rolling his eyes, Cale waves Kofi away and, remembering about me again, turns to pull me closer to him. "Don't listen to him, Eli. Don't listen and don't stick your dick where it doesn't belong. Now, you better tell me..."

"Listen to me, Eli!" Kofi does not give up, pulling me in his direction. "Listen, and I'll teach you everything about where your dick belongs."

Rocking like a tumbler from side to side, while my brothers, each in turn, try to pull me, I want to howl. Or plug my ears and hide under the bed, just not to hear all this. I came to discuss a war, fearing that I would be beaten for unsolicited ideas, but in fact I had to beware of other people's unsolicited ideas. How? How the conversation about the future of the shaman empire turned into a discussion of my...

"Empress Ixchel knows everything," I snap, unable to stand it.

As if by a wave of the shaman's hand, my brothers fall silent.

"She knows that you're going to take Tik'al by storm the day of the Trials and overthrow her. And she's not trying to stop you now just because she's going to set us all up and kill us all."

The only thing that has remained unchanged in my memory about my brothers, and probably more or less objectively true, is their common goal. Their common enemy that unites them like the sky unites the moon and the sun, despite all the rains and storms, insults and disputes.

After my words, both Cale and Kofi forget about their altercation. Instantly serious, staring at me from both sides sullenly and mysteriously, they are silent for a long time. And then, like two crooked mirrors facing each other, they grin.

"I really thought you sneaked out of Tik'al because you found out something important," Cale says. He sighs softly, as if disappointed in me.

My jaw drops. "And the fact that I just said that everyone has known everything about your secrets for a long time, is it not important?"

"No. Because it's impossible."

"Why?"

"Because we have a secret weapon now, Eli." After exchanging glances with Cale, Kofi comes up and hugs me tightly, almost painfully, by the shoulder, which he had been playfully patting until recently. "A weapon that no shaman or any information they know about us can stand against. Come on, let's show you."

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