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ere was sweat on his face； and his shirt was stuck to his chest。 Clem rose with guilty speed； his heel catching his bottle。 It rolled down two steps； spilling frothy beer as it went； before Jude caught it。
〃It's hot up there；〃 Gentle said。
〃And it's not getting any cooler；〃 Clem observed。
〃Can I have a word？〃
Jude knew he wanted to speak out of her earshot； but Clem was either too guileless to realize this； which she doubted； or unwilling to play his game。 He stayed on the step； obliging Gentle to e to the door。
〃When Monday gets back；〃 he said； 〃I'd like you to go to the estate and bring back the stones in the Retreat。 I'm going to perform the Reconciliation upstairs； where I've got my memories to help me。〃
〃Why are you sending Clem？〃 Jude said； not rising or even turning。 〃I know the way； he doesn't。 I know what the stones look like； he doesn't。〃
〃I think you'd be better off here；〃 Gentle replied。
Now she turned。 〃What for？〃 she said。 〃I'm no use to anyone。 Unless you simply want to keep an eye on me。〃
〃Not at all。〃
〃Then let me go；〃 she said。 〃I'll take Monday to help me。 Clem and Tay can stay here。 They're your angels； aren't they？〃
〃If that's the way you'd prefer it；〃 he said； 〃I don't mind。〃
〃I'll e back； don't worry；〃 she said derisively； raising her beer bottle。 〃If it's only to toast the miracle。〃
A little while after this conversation； with the blue tide of dusk rising in the street and lifting the day to the rooftops； Gentle left off his debates with Pie and went to sit with Celestine。 Her room was more meditative than the one he'd left； where the memories of Pie had bee so easy to conjure it was sometimes hard to believe the mystif wasn't there in the flesh。 Clem had lit candles beside the mattress upon which Celestine was sleeping； and their light showed Gentle a woman so deeply asleep that no dreams troubled her。 Though she was far from emaciated； her features were stark； as though her flesh was halfway to being bone。 He studied her for a time； wondering if his own face would one day possess such severity； then he returned to the wall at the bottom of the bed and sat on his haunches there； listening to the slow cadence of her breath。
His mind was reeling with all that he'd learned； or recollected； in the room above。 Like so much of the magic he'd bee acquainted with； the working of the Reconciliation was not a great ceremonial。 Whereas most of the dominant religions of the Fifth wallowed in ritual in order to blind their flocks to the paucity of their understanding…the liturgies and requiems； charts and sacraments all created to amplify those tiny grains of prehension the holy men actually possessed…such theatrics were redundant when the ministers had truth in their grasp； and with the help of memory he might yet bee one such minister。
The principle of the Reconciliation was not very difficult to grasp； he'd discovered。 Every two hundred years； it seemed； the In Ovo produced a kind of blossom： a five…petaled lotus which floated for a brief time in those lethal waters； immune to either their poison or their inhabitants。 This sanctuary was called by a variety of names but most simply； and most often； the Ana。 In it； the Maestros would gather； carrying there analogues of the Dominions they each represented。 Once the pieces were assembled； the process had its own momentum。 The analogues would fuse and； empowered by the Ana； burgeon； driving the In Ovo back and opening the way between the Reconciled Dominions and the Fifth。
〃The flow of things is towards success；〃 the mystif had said； speaking from a better time。 〃It's the natural instinct of every broken thing to make itself whole。 And the Imajica is broken until it's Reconciled。〃
〃Then why have there been so many failures？〃 Gentle had asked。
〃There haven't been that many；〃 Pie had replied。 〃And they were always destroyed by outside forces。 Christos was brought down by politics。 Pineo was destroyed by the Vatican。 Always people from the outside； destroying the Maestro's best intentions。 We don't have such enemies。〃
Ironic words； with hindsight。 Gentle could not afford such placency again； not with Sartori still alive and the chilling image of Pie's last frantic appearance at the Erasure still in his head。
It was no use dwelling on it。 He put the sight away as best he could； settling his gaze on Celestine instead。 It was difficult to think of her as his mother。 Maybe； among the innumerable memories he'd garnered in this house； there was some faint recollection of being a babe in these arms； of putting his toothless mouth to these breasts and being nourished there。 But if it was there； it escaped him。 Perhaps there were simply too many years； and lives； and women； between now and that cradling。 He could find it in him to be grateful for the life she'd given him； but it was hard to feel much more than that。
After a time the vigil began to depress him。 She was too like a corpse； lying there； and he too much a dutiful but loveless mourner。 He got up to go； but before he quit the room he halted at her bedside and stooped to touch her cheek。 He'd not laid his flesh to hers in twenty…three or … four decades； and perhaps； after this； he wouldn't do so again。 She wasn't chilly； as he'd expected her to be； but warm； and he kept his hand upon her longer than he'd intended。
Somewhere in the depths of her slumber she felt his touch and seemed to rise into a dream of him。 Her austerity softened； and her pale lips said； 〃Child？〃
He wasn't sure whether to answer； but in the moment of hesitation she spoke again； the same question。 This time he replied。
〃Yes； Mama？〃 he said。
〃Will you remember what I told you？〃
What now？ he wondered。 〃I'm 。。。 not certain；〃 he told her。'Til try。〃
〃Shall I tell you again？ I want you to remember； child。〃
〃Yes； Mama；〃 he said。 〃That would be good。 Tell me again。〃
She smiled an infinitesimal smile and began to repeat a story she'd apparently told many times。
〃There was a woman once； called Nisi Nirvana。。。。〃
She'd no sooner started； however； than the dream she was having lost its claim on her； and she began to slip back into a deeper place； her voice losing power as she went。
〃Don't stop； Mama；〃 Gentle prompted。 〃I want to hear。 There was a woman 。。。〃
〃Yes。。。〃
〃；。。 called Nisi Nirvana。〃
〃Yes。 And she went to a city full of iniquities； where no ghost was holy and no flesh was whole。 And something there did a great hurt to her。。。。〃
Her voice was getting stronger again； but the smile； even that tiniest hint； had gone。
〃What hurt was this； Mama？〃
〃You needn't know the hurt； child。 You'll learn about it one day； and on that day you'll wish you could forget it。 Just understand that it's a hurt only men can do to women。〃
〃And who did this hurt to her？〃 Gentle asked。
〃I told you； child； a man。〃
〃But what man？〃
〃His name doesn't matter。 What matters is that she escaped him； and came back into her own city； and knew she must make a good thing from this bad that had been done to her。 And do you know what that good thing was？〃
〃No； Mama。〃
〃It was a little baby。 A perfect little baby。 And she loved it so much it grew big after a time； and sh