Sipping stale water, he waited.

“Your father and I fought,” Mother said. “We argued about what to teach you about the world and yourself. In the end, I won. I said you were happy as you were. I reminded him that I was responsible for you, day after night after day, and if you knew too much about the world—if you ever decided to leave—I wouldn’t be strong enough to keep a creature like you in one place.

“That’s not a worthy reason for everything. I feel terrible. I deserve to hurt. But that’s one reason you were locked away, so a weak old woman didn’t have to make impossible choices.”

Diamond wasn’t sure how to react.

Seldom returned from his search, empty hands held high.

“My name,” Diamond said.

“What?”

“You were going to explain my name.”

“I’m sorry. I distracted myself.” Mother made herself laugh, just to prove she could. “When I was a girl, about the age of your friends, I was a student at the Marduk school. There was one very long day, and my class traveled to a special place where ancient artifacts are kept safe. We were shown one rare, exceptional marvel. It was a rock. The rock was tiny, like the tip of the tip of your finger, but it was bright and glittery in the special light they shone on it. The story that I was told was that there are only so many of these tiny rocks in the world, and the gems were stronger than everything but the shell of the world. They’re called diamonds. According to legend, when the first humans in the world were married to one another, the man and the woman each wore a ring encrusted with these exceptional gemstones. That’s the way the Creators made us. People died, but diamonds are the everlasting symbol of love. But there are very few diamonds left in the world, and thousands of days later, I was gazing at a baby who had come across an unimaginable route, enduring untold miseries to find me, and it seemed to me that the world would be better—a stronger, more enduring place—with one more diamond among us.”

SEVENTEEN

Every course has its benefits. Flying beneath the wilderness canopy, the Happenstance pushed ahead as fast as the repaired engine allowed, following the straightest possible line back to the Corona District. And every course had its risks. Any moment, some wild branch might drop or an entire tree could tumble free on top of them. And if the other engine exploded and punctured a bladder, they would start a long horrible fall without any snags to stop them. Flight meant calculations, and their course was the best imperfect choice. But at least the sun was so weak that nobody wore goggles, and Diamond could sit at the window with his new friends, everybody watching a vista that few had seen before.

Mother and Father were sitting with Master Nissim, talking in whispers.

Seldom started to laugh.

“What’s funny?” Elata asked.

“School,” he said. “When we go back tomorrow, what are we going to tell people?”

“The truth,” she said.

“They’ll say we’re lying,” Seldom said, laughing harder.

Elata was laughing. She patted Diamond on the knee and smiled at him, and when he looked at her face, she said, “When I talked to you that first time, when you were standing on your landing . . . do you know what I thought . . . ?”

“No.”

“You were boring.”

Diamond nodded slowly.

“Oh, I knew he was fascinating,” Seldom said. “Right away, the first time I looked at you.”

“You did not,” said Elata.

“I did.”

“You’re lying,” she said.

“Maybe,” Seldom agreed. Then something was so funny that he couldn’t speak, shaking his head as he giggled and snorted.

The reef country had vanished into the late-day haze. Between the Happenstance and where they had been, an entire tree suddenly ripped free, plunging from the canopy without sound or apparent haste, twisting until the heavy base of the trunk was leading the way. Diamond watched it grow small, and then came the demon floor, heat and pressure claiming their prize, and he thought about the monkeys trapped on that doomed wood.

His friends kept laughing, and he was sad.

“After school,” Seldom said.

Diamond blinked. “What?”

“I could come to your home. I’ll bring my two-wheeler and teach you how to ride.”

“Maybe.” Diamond looked at his parents. “I don’t know.”

“Riding is easy, if you try.”

Balancing on two spinning wheels didn’t sound easy. But Diamond wanted to sound positive, saying, “Okay,” while pulling up a smile.

The overhead wilderness was changing. Corona blackwoods pushed out from the paler green limbs, and a single blimp moved sluggishly from one destination to another. Diamond watched the blimp and the dense canopy adorned with cultivated epiphytes and fancy flowers, and suddenly they passed close to a suspended platform where long green blades hung off the bottom—like hair, except that it was some kind of plant.

A word came to him, and he spoke it.

Nobody understood him.

The word brought a brief image, real as any dream, of green vegetation standing tall and the sun overhead and an impossibly beautiful woman watching over him.

Diamond shut his eyes, clinging to the image.

Master Nissim came over and sat among the three of them, and after a while the man said his name.

Diamond looked at him.

“I’ve been talking to your parents. About quite a lot, and all of it wrapped around you, of course.”

The boy nodded, waiting.

“Do you know what a tutor is?”

“No.”

Seldom knew. His cheeks blew up big, and guessing the rest, he said, “You’re going to tutor Diamond.”

“That’s the plan of the moment, yes.”

Seldom leaned close. “This is great. You’re so lucky.”

Diamond said nothing.

The Master watched him until their eyes met, and then he laughed quietly and a little sadly. “I don’t believe in luck. I never have. ‘Good fortune is the sweat of good acts,’ says the proverb. But if ever there was a creature smiled upon by Fate, it has to be you, my boy.”

“I don’t feel lucky,” Diamond admitted.

His tutor leaned close, nodding. “Which is perhaps the best part of the blessing.”

The canopy gave them a suitable gap, and dropping water, the Happenstance rose toward a place that Diamond already knew. Marduk welcomed him and welcomed everyone with its enduring trunk, with the landings and shops and the now-empty school that looked small against that great wall of bark. A vessel designed for speed had to coast and crawl its way around to the far side. Some features were familiar. Elata pointed to the public walkway where Diamond had crashed and healed again. He looked the other way. Where was the falling water? But the runoff always dried by afternoon, Seldom explained. There was no mist, the air dry and clear, and the green sunlight was on the brink of being extinguished. Hearing big engines, people came out from their homes to watch the first fletch ship they had ever seen in this space. They waved with exaggerated motions. Elata and Seldom waved back. Father left to help guide the pilot, and the engine that hadn’t been broken before started leaking smoke, making the air stink. Then the Happenstance got into position, its nose pointed at Marduk, and the engines were throttled back and more water was dropped, and Diamond felt the world falling around them.

Nearly forty people were sharing one large landing. Seldom pointed and hollered. “My mother. Your mother too. Do you see her, Elata?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Karlan was alone at the railing, standing almost exactly where he had been when he tossed Diamond over the edge. He was still wearing the school uniform. He looked as if he hadn’t moved all day, waiting for this moment, and now it had arrived and he wasn’t happy or sad or anything. He just stared at the spectacle and at Diamond, and then Diamond waved to him and Karlan’s face flushed and he pretended to be fascinated by the smoking engine.