“Rub a coin.” Gettar passed over a tien coin to Polla. “Rub a coin, and toss it in the holy fountain.”
His little sister rubbed the coin between two fingers until the metal and the inlain stone were warm to the touch, despite the cooling days. “Why?”
“If you rub it while thinking of something good, the stone holds the thought, and takes it to the gods.” He rubbed his, his lips moving in the way they did. Cantya. Polla knew he was thinking of Cantya, the tanner’s daughter with the eyes like coal. She was all he ever thought about, lately.
Talgya. She mouthed the word as she rubbed the coin warm, and again as she tossed the coin into the fountain. Talgya. It might work.
The kids were throwing tien coins and pieces of bone into the fountain, their faces twisted in concentration.
“Rub a coin.” Polla passed the vieg to Talgya. “Something my brother taught me, when I was under-goat tall. “Think of your wish, and the sira in the coin will send it to the gods.”
“Does it work?” The veteran took the vieg, pinching it between two fingers of the hand she had left. Polla knew what she was thinking, like she’d always know who was on Gettar’s mind. It was easy. Gettar. Bring him back to us.
She pinched her own vieg. Getta. Senan. Attorora. Bring them back to us. Bring them home.
She tossed the coin into the fountain, high over the heads of the children. “It brought you home, every time.”
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