It was the first Revelry after the terrible Red War. The Vanguard had asked me to bring the celebration to the Guardians after the popularity of the Dawning. And really, those poor Guardians could use some cheering up. Seems like all they do is worry about power and death. So I thought, why not encourage them to celebrate life for a change?

I always meet so many interesting folk in the Tower. Guardians of all sorts, intense, or light-hearted, or somber. But the poor boy who caught my attention, I didn't even know he was a Guardian at first.

I'd been growing flowers in tubs for two months in preparation for the Revelry. While the Vanguard were happy to transmat everything to the Tower for me, and even set them more or less in place, there were many small adjustments I wished to make. But the big tubs weighed more than I do.

There I was, one human woman in a sea of Guardians, too embarrassed to ask for help. I was tugging at one tub, trying to rotate it, when someone said, "Need help, ma'am?"

I turned to see a friendly-looking young man standing there in simple pants and a short tunic. His skin was a nice deep brown color, and his smile was very white. No ghost in sight. He also wasn't much taller than me.

"Yes, sir," I said, straightening my aching back. "I need this tub moved about two feet that way."

He grabbed the tub and dragged it into position with easy strength. Then he straightened, dusting off his hands. "What else?"

"I'm sure you're busy," I said apologetically. "You don't need to waste time arranging decorations for an old woman."

His smile returned, brighter than ever. "My whole afternoon is free, ma'am." He held out a hand. "I'm Jayesh."

"Eva Levante," I replied, shaking his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Jayesh. I have a lot to do, and an assistant would be just the ticket."

He flexed one arm and laughed. "An assistant with muscle! Just tell me what to do."

We worked the rest of the afternoon, arranging tubs, setting up banners and shades, placing flower arrangements just so. We chatted as we worked. I learned that Jayesh was a Guardian and had just had his first resurrection day.

"The Revelry will be like my own big party," he said, admiring a bunch of columbines. "So much color and fun."

"And games," I added. "Plenty of things to do with your friends."

He nodded and his smile faded. He fingered a snapdragon, opening and closing the petals like little jaws.

I almost asked, Don't you have any friends? But I caught myself. Even nice boys like this one were sometimes very alone. There was probably a reason he was spending a free afternoon moving heavy flower tubs for a stranger.

"What's this one called?" he asked, touching a foxglove. "They're like towers of little bells."

"Foxglove," I told him. "And these, here, are pansies. They come in so many different colors."

I educated him on the art of botany for a while. He seemed to forget his reserve, and was genuinely interested in the various flowers.

"What's this one?" he asked. "They look like little hearts."

"Bleeding heart," I said. "See, this bit on the bottom looks like a droplet."

He snatched his hand away as if the flower had burned him. "Oh," he murmured. "That's terrible."

"It's only a flower," I hastened to reassure him.

That guarded look had returned, extinguishing his smile, and even the brightness in his eyes.

What's wrong? I thought. Who hurt you?

I don't like to pry into people's private lives. I had no intention of asking young Jayesh what burden he carried. We were merely partners in decorating, nothing more. And besides, Guardians often worried about things so horrible I could barely grasp them. No, I wouldn't ask him to confide in me. But I did wonder where his ghost had gone.

Around mid afternoon, I had to sit and rest. Jayesh fetched us each a cup of iced tea, and we sat in a corner of the Tower walk, half-hidden by flowers and a banner.

We sat looking out over the Last City, to the Traveler in the sky. Jayesh smiled a little and gestured to it. "It's really something, isn't it?"

"Yes," I replied. "Shame it's so broken, now. Those Red Legion did a number on it."

He nodded and sipped his tea. "I talk to it, sometimes. Kind of ... in thought pictures. It'll answer me, sometimes, too." He gave me a sideways look and laughed in a shamefaced way. "But you probably think I'm crazy."

"No," I told him softly. "I don't."

He gave me another look, guarded, but hopeful.

"I'm not a Guardian," I told him, "but I've watched them for years. Your connection with the Traveler is something magical. If you can speak to it, why, that makes you special."

"Or a target," he muttered.

An unpleasant memory trickled into my head just then - an article I had read on the news networks after the war. A Guardian had climbed into the Traveler and been trapped inside the Red Legion's cage. He claimed to have spent the entire war arguing with the Traveler on behalf of all Guardians. But many experts said that he was lying, insane, or both. What had his name been? Something with a J.

Jayesh.

Suddenly I understood him too well and could barely look at him. No wonder he spent his free afternoon helping me. He had no one else. What a lonely life, being so young in this harsh world of ours, and already singled out for hatred and abuse. He probably had no idea of the political currents that flowed through the Last City. Certain circles would view him as a cancer to be eradicated.

I wanted to give him a hug. But I wasn't sure how he'd take it, so I didn't move. Instead, I asked softly, "Is your ghost all right?"

Jayesh's smile was so brittle, I feared it might crack into tears. "Oh. Yes. He's fine. We're fine."

Something must be wrong with his ghost. Oh dear, I hadn't meant to dig into his personal matters. I busied myself with my tea and tried to think of a different topic. "I suppose you follow the Crucible. Who do you think will be the next champion?"

Jayesh didn't answer. Instead, he cupped his hands together and whispered into them. His ghost appeared in a swirl of blue sparkles.

His ghost had no shell. Only a little core with a blue eye, the metal blackened and oxidized from heat.

"Oh," I exclaimed. "You poor little thing."

The ghost blinked up at its Guardian, then glared at me. He flew toward me, so aggressive that I confess I flinched.

"My Guardian has been through hell," the ghost snarled. "Nobody is going to hurt him anymore. Get it?"

"He doesn't have to worry about me," I told the ghost. "I understand."

The ghost backed away a little. "You do?"

I nodded. "I think he needs a hug."

The ghost studied me a moment. "I think he does, too."

So I gave Jayesh a nice warm hug. Tears lurked in his eyes for several minutes afterward.

"I have a new shell on order for him," he said, indicating his naked ghost. "His name is Phoenix, so his shell has to be red and yellow. But it won't be in until next week."

I looked at the ghost's scorched core. Jayesh was explaining without explaining, trying to assure me that his life wasn't as bad as it appeared. Neither he nor his ghost breathed a word about where the old shell had gone, or why Phoenix's core was burned. And I didn't want to know. Those tears in his eyes had told me enough.

When we resumed work, Jayesh worked furiously, as if trying to prove his worth to me. We had the Tower decorations finished by sunset, and what decorations they were. The Tower was transformed, color and life everywhere. It looked like someone was holding a huge wedding.

Several other Guardians I knew found me and insisted on buying me dinner. I tried to ask Jayesh to join us, but he had already slipped away into the twilight.

I saw him at a distance the next day, sitting on an upper balcony and cleaning a rifle. He looked very alone. But as I watched, a girl in a pretty warlock robe climbed up and sat beside him, talking cheerfully. She'd made a wreath of flowers for her hair, and her ghost wore one, too. Jayesh cheered up immensely.

This eased my heart considerably. The boy wasn't entirely alone. At least one other Guardian liked him. And if I was any judge of body language, that girl was very, very fond of Jayesh.


The end