The door opened. Qadi gave Shifra a confused look.

“I quit,” Shifra said.

Qadi’s confusion deepened “What are you talking about?”

“I told Master Atin I quit. I want to speak to your father, apprentice with him, if I can.”

Qadi’s eyes widened. “Come in!”

Shifra stepped in through the front door, embracing her friend.

“So, I’m guessing you didn’t get permission from your father,” Qadi said, pulling Shifra past the entryway.

Shifra nodded. “I just decided to do it. What’s he going to do? He’s not even in the city. Maybe I'll tell him after I’ve passed the exams of governing.” Shifra grinned.

“And if he asks Master Atin?” Qadi said.

“Oh, I’ll still spar with Master Atin,” Shifra said. “He can bend the truth.”

Qadi beamed proudly. “About nethered time! Wait here. He’s very interested in speaking to you.”

Shifra smiled.

Qadi motioned to the parlor. Shifra bowed respectfully and entered. Qadi stepped out of the room. Shifra looked around. She’d only been here a few times before, as they spent most of their social time at other friends’ houses. As before, the home wasn’t ostentatious. The walls were a plain white, and the only decoration seemed to be the simple furniture and a wall covered in shelves. A private library of hundreds of codexes and scrolls.

With a glance for Qadi, she removed her jacket and approached the bookshelves. Some were quite old, locked in glass cases with meticulous reproductions sitting nearby. Some of them were much newer. Ateyan Codes of law, books on political theory, and one thick tome. Yishai Abaddon’s treatise on theistic morality. She also noticed books by her grandmother, Domiel Abaddon.

She’d read many of the books on the wall. Especially her grandmother’s writing. Her uncle was intelligent and direct, but her grandmother possessed more subtlety in her philosophical arguments.

“Shifra Speartip Abaddon,” a baritone male voice said. Shifra turned, jumping back from the bookshelves.

Senator Thersha motioned to the sofa. “Please, take a seat. Qadi says you’re interested in talking?”

Shifra nodded and sat down. Senator Thersha and Qadi sat down on the smaller sofa adjacent to Shifra’s. He had bags under his eyes. He no longer wore the robes of a senator, instead wearing a foot-length tunic made of a deep blue. No trousers. No tribe-colored stripes. His hands were dotted with splotches of ink.

Shifra realized she hadn’t spoken a word. She’d probably had less than three conversations with this man, all of them brief. That said, she read most of the books he recommended to Qadi and the others and had attended as many of his debates as she could.

“I, uh, want to apprentice with you.”

“Why?” he said, tone even.

The question caught her off guard. Wasn’t it obvious? “Because I want become a senator.”

“The niece of the ultra-conservative High Judge wants to apprentice with a reformer? Won’t that cause quite the scandal?”

Shifra tightened her hands into resolute fists. Why were they getting clammy? He was friendly. He was also intelligent. And she realized at this moment that she wanted nothing more than to apprentice with him, to stop hearing things secondhand from her friends. To sit at the feet of a leader who was leading the next revolution. Not one of blades, but of words.

“I don’t care,” Shifra said, voice firm. “I want to study with you. Learn from you.”

The senator nodded appreciatively. “Now, tell me why you want to be a senator. What would you do? What do you want to achieve?”

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Shifra took a breath. Why were her thoughts so much clearer when chatting with her friends? “I want to help people who have less than I do.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Shifra paused, thinking about that woman. How she had felt when she’d given her some coin. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

Senator Thersha smiled. The kind of smile one makes when they know a secret.

“Then we share many goals in common. I think we could do great things if we work together.”

“If?” Shifra said.

“You didn’t have any if’s for Asari or Zeki,” Qadi said, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Qadyrin,” Senator Thersha said, exhaling slowly. “Miss Abaddon and I must speak in private.”

“Anything you say to Shifra you can say with me here,” Qadi said. “Isn’t that right?”

Shifra wanted to say yes, but she also didn’t want to talk back to the man she was wanted to call teacher.

“Qadi,” Senator Thersha said, his voice growing serious, “This is not up for debate.”

Qadi frowned at her father, then gave a reluctant nod of her head. “Well, tell me when you’re done being secretive.” She left Shifra a reassuring smile then headed down the hallway, disappearing around a corner.

“To be honest,” Senator Thersha said, “I’ve wanted to take you on as an apprentice ever since you and Qadyrin became friends.”

Shifra blinked, taken aback. “Why haven’t you told me this before?”

“Because I didn’t know the strength of your conviction,” the senator said, “Do you have the courage to go against your father?”

Shifra thought she had already proven that in more than one way. “I’ve tried to talk to him, many times. I just quit my combat apprenticeship. Something my father was adamant about me keeping.”

Senator Thersha frowned and shook his head. “That’s not enough, we’re talking about a lot more than skipping class. We’re talking about public protests, criticizing your uncle’s policies in front of a crowd, demanding that your father do something about his brother’s rampant bureaucracy. This isn’t the occasional emotionally-charged shouting match.”

Shifra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He knew an awful lot about her. What had Qadi told him? “That’s why I want to become a senator, make a difference.”

Senator Thersha paused, his hand massaging his stubble. “Senators can debate all day long,” the senator said, “but if High Judge Abaddon rejects our proposals without discussion, we can make no progress. Why do you want to take the long way to change this country? Your father is the second most powerful man in Ateya.”

Shifra frowned. “What else can I do? He doesn’t listen to me. Maybe I don’t know enough…”

The senator shook his head, “No, from what Qadyrin tells me, you know plenty. But I think you hit it right on the nose. If your prior chats with him haven’t worked, what else could?”

She hadn’t tried to think of anything else she could do. Talking to him on his visits at home… she couldn’t force her father to do anything. What was there to do apart from having pointless arguments?

Then Qadi’s words at the public whipping came to her head. Your father, I don’t think he’s ever attended… My theory is, that if he did, he would feel inclined to change things. He cares for his people, and always treats his enemies justly. Don’t you think he would show that same compassion to these if he would just look?

“I… could go to the warcamp. Talk to him there. Take him to a public punishing. Let him see how the church and state hurt the very people he’s fighting to protect.”

Senator Thersha nodded. “He cares, Shifra, more than he lets on. But, he also avoids it. Lets his brother handle everything. Your uncle will only listen to one man. The only man that can make him hear.”

Shifra was unsure about that. Her uncle was stubborn, and she’d seen how little control anyone could get over him. But his brother, the warrior that made Yishai’s vision of Ateya come true, maybe he could. “I’ll try,” she said.

The Senator nodded again. “If you convince Omrai to stand up to your uncle, I will not only accept you as an apprentice, I’ll devote extra time to your education. I won’t lie, I see you as an asset.”

“To what end?” Shifra said, her eyes narrowing. He wanted to use her? Maybe he wasn’t as ideal a man as she’d thought.

“To create a stable and fair government. High Judge Abaddon is intelligent, but this people won’t stand long for his high tithes and taxes, with the laws of the church forced upon them. I’d rather not return to the old days, where merchants and scholars were treated as slaves to the nobles. Yishai’s vice grip will lead us back there, eventually.”

Shifra nodded. “Alright, fine. I’ll talk to him. Change things from the top.” She extended her hand. Senator Thersha took it with a smile and a nod.

“I want to go with you!” Qadi said from the hall.

Shifra and the senator turned to see Qadi entering the room.

“That’s not a good idea,” Senator Thersha said, “It’s too-”

“Dangerous?” Qadi said. “Please, you’ll send the High General’s daughter into harm’s way, but not your own? Besides, who will keep her company on the trip?”

Senator Thersha frowned. Then he let out a long sigh. “Perhaps it will be good for you to see what Omrai goes through.” He gazed intently at his daughter. “A senator must understand her nation well. Soldiers as well as citizens. Fine, Qadi, you’re old enough to make this decision. But I make one demand.”

He looked at Shifra for a moment, “And this would be wise for you as well.” He turned his gaze back to his daughter. “Don’t get too close to a battle, but I do want you to see the aftermath. I want you to see what Omrai shields us from. We don’t want to stop much of the army’s income. You can appreciate something we didn’t have a decade ago. A nation protected from the ravages of war.”

Shifra nodded along with Qadi. Though Shifra wasn’t too worried about getting into a scuffle. She could hold her own. But Qadi couldn’t. She was no fighter. She’d have to keep her friend safe on her journey.

A journey to confront a mountain and convince it to move.