I watched him from the corner of my eye, wondering if he was expecting me to break the silence. He seemed unperturbed as he sipped quietly from his drink, his gaze lost in the horizon—as if I hadn’t been there at all.

If I did say something, there was a chance it would be taken as an interruption of his reflection—which would be extremely rude.

I was torn.

As if he had sensed my hesitation, he spoke up—though his eyes remained fixed on some unseen spot in the distance.

”You are familiar with the Szelkin?”

The question troubled me. It shouldn’t have. It was a known fact I was one of them. Perhaps it was his way of phrasing it, as if he did NOT know I was... even though that was, of course, impossible—Rakash knew everything. That, too, was well known. So I kept my answer simple.

”I am.”

He glanced at me with what I thought was amusement. Had he expected me to deny it? Or maybe to try and justify it?

”There are those who would refuse me entry into the senate.”

So this was to be a political discussion. I should not have been surprised, but I was. Part of me had hoped he simply wanted to know me better... this notion had been bolstered by the knowledge we had both known and loved the same woman.

Obviously, I had been mistaken.

”I find this surprising,” I said noncommittally.

”Those fanatics will not listen to reason. They refuse to vote for any of my proposals, no matter how sound it is.”

I knew he was still upset and I wondered if this was a twisted way for him to get back at me, insulting this faction so dear to my heart. And then it occurred to me that perhaps I had it all wrong. Maybe his anger had nothing to do with my tardiness, and everything to do with the Szelkin. In his eyes, I was just one of those ‘fanatics.’ But then, why summon me at all?

Because he needed me, of course.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

”Perhaps if you did not constantly deride our beliefs...”

It was a daring comment to make, but I could not let him mock our values in my face.

He set his glass down and looked at me with a slight smile.

”I can see why Julia liked you. Still... There is a flaw in your logic.”

I quirked a brow. “Which is?”

”The Szelkin do not have ‘beliefs.’ What you have are aspirations—albeit unrealistic ones.”

It irked me he would assume to know us better than we did ourselves. But I resisted the urge to throw the contents of my drink at his face; or to stand and leave; or to fling insults at him. All of these would have made me feel better. But none of them would have affected his thoughts or attitude. And all of them would have had dire consequences.

One did not so openly defy the great Rakash.

Instead, I gritted my teeth.

”All we want is to understand our purpose in this world. Is that such a bad thing?”

”As if we had to have a purpose...”

”Don’t we, though?”

”No.”

”That is not what you tell your humans,” I snapped.

”What do you know of what I tell my humans?”

The tone in his voice was a mix of amusement and biding threat. It instantly made me wary.

”Only rumors,” I said evasively.

He shrugged. “It matters not. They DO have a purpose. And that is to serve US.” He paused, his eyes meeting mine. “Tell me, Evken... Would you serve these so-called gods that you presumably believe in?”

Again, I resisted the urge to do something rash. Not trusting my hand, I set my glass down.

”What is this all about, Uncle? I doubt you had me come here just to berate me.”

He sighed as he sat back and turned his gaze back to some mysterious spot on the horizon.

”Do not make the mistake so many others have made before you.”

”And what mistake would that be?” I asked coolly.

”Presuming to know what I am thinking.”

***

Michael paused his reading to get a drink.

He wondered who those characters were and what their connection to Ahuaxa was. Their names were not familiar to him.

The relationship between them was peculiar. The narrator called the other ‘Uncle,’ which made it sound like they were related... and yet this was obviously the first time they had met, and they only seemed to have a passing familiarity with each other.

The conversation was fascinating... but also frustrating, as it was not giving him a single clue as to the location of the fabled city. He was starting to wonder if there was any connection at all!

Could he have been mistaken? Could this just be some random diary of some random person from the past?

Then again, they did talk of humans as servants, which was intriguing... and certainly implied that they themselves were not human.

What were they, then?

He frowned.

Could they be gods themselves? There were supposed to be thousands of them... He couldn’t be expected to know all of their names, so it was not impossible.

But then, the narrator believed in some god, so how could they be gods themselves?

He glanced at the pile of leaflets.

Shaking his head, he decided he needed a break.

He took his coat and headed out.