Once she was as comfortable as she could be, she addressed the box.

  Have you always been a box? she asked.

  It was not the most pressing of her questions. Yet, it forced its way out first.

  "I imagine so," the box said. It somehow accompanied this statement with a mental shrug. "I don't recall ever being anything else. I see why you ask, though. As insane as my maker was, he could have repurposed a tea towel or something equally mundane. Sometimes, I imagine that I am a piece of driftwood floating along on a river. I would go into the sea, and then flow back into a river and then go around and around and around until I'm dizzy. Do you think that means something? Could I have been something else before? I heard human dreams mean something, and I don't have any of course, but -"

  It rambled on for a long time before Eluvie accepted that it would never stop. She tried several times to interrupt it, but it just kept going. Bits of its rambling were useful. She discovered that its maker was a long-dead sorcerer, that it had been in existence for at least ten generations of kings, and that it really hated having no other boxes to speak with.

  "If you stop talking, I'll find a friend for you," Eluvie said, frustrated.

  It stopped immediately. Eluvie hurriedly asked another question before it could begin speaking again. "Do you know why the others won't speak to me? You're only the third... umm... person who has done so."

  Oh, they're probably afraid, it said.

  Afraid of what? Eluvie asked.

  To say something wrong, it said. Or perhaps someone told them not to. The last time someone brought an older sword in here - he was very talkative - he said that Imare has a very strict policy about even speaking of you. Of course, that doesn't apply to me because I have no one to speak to.

  Who is Imare? Eluvie decided to try steering rather than interrupting it.

  Imare is... Well, he's, uh, the ground. The ground you walk on, you know. It's his body. I don't know how to explain better than that. Oh, imagine that you lived on the back of a giant dragon. That's Imare. Except that he's not a dragon. And he's made more of dirt than...

  The ground is I'mare, Eluvie repeated.

  Yes. He sleeps a lot, so he'll never talk to you anyway.

  He continued for a while as Eluvie tried to wrap her head around that information.

  If I scooped some dirt from the ground, Eluvie asked, would Imare be in that dirt as well?

  The voice went silent for a long time. "A long time" for it was about two seconds.

  "That sounds like philosophy," it said. "I don't like philosophy. But, I don't think he will be. I mean, you have very long hair. If I cut off some of it, would you be in the hair?"

  Eluvie decided that the question was too complicated and unimportant to worry about.

  "What about the ocean?" she asked. "What is its name?"

  The voice projected a shudder. That's Ijuv. You shouldn't talk to her. She's insane and cruel. Don't believe anything she says.

  The conversation had gone on too long, Eluvie decided. She had learned many interesting things, but none of them changed her situation.

  Can you tell me why the others would be afraid of saying something wrong to me? she asked.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Well, you could kill them, it said. If they accidentally ruined your trial, you would be livid.

  "What trial?" Eluvie asked.

  The box responded with silence. After several seconds, she decided to repeat the question.

  What trial are you referring to?

  The box replied in a timid tone. "Trial? Who mentioned a trial?"

  Eluvie let her irritation spill into her tone. "You did."

  I assure you, I did not. I would never do such a thing.

  Eluvie was torn between anger and amusement. Rather than lashing out, she took a moment to compose herself and refine her strategy.

  "So," she said, "the trial is what you are not to tell me about."

  I don't know what you mean, the box said. There is no trial.

  I wonder, Eluvie said, would Imare be angry that you broke the rule?

  It scoffed. Imare won't do anything. He's always asleep. I suppose you could wake him up. But please, don't. I don't want to be mute. I'll never make a mistake again. I swear it!

  Eluvie almost pitied it. Then, she recalled that she was the more pitiable of them.

  This is what we will do, she said. You will tell me exactly what is going on, and I won't tell anyone that I heard it from you.

  I can't! It seemed tortured. You don't understand. Oh, you don't understand how horrible this is! It's not just Imare. I could kill you. Mentioning the trial is a simple mistake, but if I reveal anything else, it could be really bad. And if you get hurt, then Imare won't matter. I would be doomed. And you would be doomed, too, of course. I can't. I don't want to hurt you. You're actually quite nice.

  Eluvie felt like her head was full of rattling wasps. She could barely think, she did not know what she wanted, and she did not know who to trust.

  "I'm getting tired of this," she said. "I don't know what this trial is, but I am sick of being tortured and used and manipulated while everyone keeps secrets."

  The secrets are actually a good idea," the voice said. "Knowing them would -"

  "Would it keep me from passing the trial?" she guessed.

  Yes! You understand! Please don't threaten me, Isei. I wouldn't tell you if I could. We would both regret it. Ugh! I talk too much. Everyone says so. I should have listened.

  Eluvie decided to spend some time with her thoughts. The voice, chastened by mistakes, maintained a resolute silence.

  Finally, she spoke again. "Is there anything you can tell me that wouldn't be harmful to know?"

  I shouldn't tell you anything at all, it said. I don't want to make any more mistakes.

  That was probably the first sign of intelligence it had shown. Eluvie wanted to press. The desire ate at her. She could not stand being so close to information and choosing to ignore it. So, she told herself that she was not ignoring it. They would use the box on the return trip. Then, if she was still curious, she would insist on answers.