There are no more words for this than that for love.

So, perhaps, we speak of both.

"Did you want to venture another turn?" Akbar grinned toothily, pocketing my money. His voice was full of musty greed, his fingernails of black gunk.

I harumped. "I think you see me a gambler." I waved it off.

He leaned back on his fat, plumped fingers like thick worms interweaving on his gut. "I think I see an opportunist."

I stood and flapped at my pants to rid them of the dust. "You may be wrong."

"I may not be speaking enough."

Akbar unfurled his palm, and there lay a brilliant pebble of the sun.

I squinted, shocked mostly at the light in the heavy tent, but when my eyes came to focus, they rejoiced in the beauty they saw. A sharply cut pyramid of gold sat in this rich man's hand, and there I withheld my emotion from my face. Why would a rich man, a wickedly rich man, be showing such to me? Akbar delt with scum, and those who would slit his throat if he revealed this treasure. I eyed him wearily.

"What are you talking about?"

His moustache twisted and he sighed happily. The jewel, gone in a movement.

"There is a little-known spot in the hard desert beyond our city to the north, in the rocks of land before the mountains. Believe me, I would not have known about this spot save for an ill fate my troop had met, and it was better to hide than fight. I'm sure you understand that." His grin was too familiar. "There is a tiny ruin barely larger than my bodyguards poking though the cracked ground. There was a tiny jewel on our way back, dug into a stone."

I was about to leave. Akbar only told stories when he wanted to capture late-payers. I knew no debt with him, but I knew him as a virulent character.

Waving gold about my eyes would not bind me.

"I think you would want to invest in the trinket, my fellow. Bamdad."

"Speak without your stories and I would feel safer."

"Then let this entice your senses: the lost altar of Gayomarta."

"Nonsense."

The jewel was before me again.

"This does not convince you?" he edged; a laugh.

"For all I know it has just been crafted."

He threw it upon my lap and gestured at it with a smarmy smirk. "There."

I stared at him, gingerly took the thing up, and glanced shortly at it. The script...if it was a script...was unknown to me. The surface felt as delicate as thin paper.

"Take it."

I held it out to him. "No."

"I insist."

"What is it you want?"

Akbar widened his mouth so every yellowed tooth and spotty gum could be seen.

"Nothing, Bamdad. Take it. Good relations are my reward."

I trap, a trick, I knew. But what I would not let show is that the trinket was extremely valuable.

It was a key.

"Where is this place?"

"I can show you exactly where. You will be standing on a rhubard plant."

"I have your word that this is for nothing."

Akbar nodded curtly. "Of course! Of course! You impress me of your restraint at games! Surely I must reward such nobility! Come, come, let me fetch a charcoal stick and lay down the place."

A flutter in my heart, and the regrets tightened.

I was going to find the resting ruin of slain Gayomarta, the first, the purest human. I was going to find Ameretat's medallion.

Ameretat was before time.

Ameretat was beyond immortal.