Tal should have been in bed hours ago but he couldn’t stop thinking about the plans for the new bridge. Like the one before it, this bridge was going to be made from shards of glass, fitted together into segments and then assembled, one after the other, until they spanned the distance between Spire and Peak. He’d contributed where he could, helping to ensure their foundations were strengthened, and he even found ways to make the bridge more resilient against being damaged and destroyed in the same manner that had happened last time. Still, he had his reservations about using glass as the primary building material. Unfortunately, glass the strongest and lightest building material available to them. Nothing else would be able to span the distance.

“Excuse us,” a pair of familiar voices, a young man and woman, spoke, jarring Tal out of his contemplation over the bridge.

The pair were Tal’s assistants, in a way. They helped him navigate his way around Spire, managed the affairs of his house such as cleaning and preparing his meals, and they also relayed information between Tal and the other builders. No one else in Spire had such assistants, but since Tal was not part of the bond that joined the people of Spire, he found it difficult to work in the same manner as the people of Spire did. They could go about their day, handling whatever chores or other tasks were at hand, and still be able to manage all of the complexities of work. That left Tal alone in the work rooms most of the time while he calculated angles and forces. It had taken a few days for the people of Spire to understand Tal’s need for time to think and so the assistant’s had been assigned.

“We apologize for interrupting your work,” the pair said, “but the hour is late and you need your sleep.”

Tal nodded, acknowledging that he agreed with them, but nevertheless he remained at his desk.

“I can’t sleep” Tal explained. “I just have this feeling like I’m missing something. Like it’s staring me right in the face but can’t quite see what it is.”

The pair looked at him, confused. Tal hadn’t expected them to understand. There were certain things that he was beginning to pick up on about the people of Spire. Most of the time they were hard to notice, like no one here having a name even though they were definitely unique people with different interests, skills, and personalities. Yet then there were some of the truly obvious things like how they never spoke aloud to one another, only when they were including Tal or Dega in their discussions did they speak. Even then, they always spoke in pairs, never alone. They also struggled with concepts like greed, jealousy, and, apparently, having a mind so distracted that it made sleeping impossible.

Tal wondered if there was a better way for him to explain his state of mind. No one had told him much about the bond, but he had been paying closer attention these past few days and had begun to form some ideas about what the effects of it were, even if he didn’t understand the bond itself.

“It’s like someone’s trying to share a thought with me,” Tal ventured, “but it’s not quite working so all I know is that there might be something wrong with the plans.”

“Have you attempted to join the bond?” they asked with concern.

“No, no, I’m just trying to help you understand why I can’t sleep.”

“Oh, well then is there anything we can get you?”

Tal rubbed his eyes. What he wanted was someone he could bounce ideas off of or talk through different ideas. The pair was a nice couple, one of the few pairs he’d met who were also married to one another. They’d been married for a couple years now and had agreed to take Tal into their home while he worked on the bridge. They were kind and attentive but not builders and struggled to grasp most of the concepts relating to the bridge that he had tried to discuss with them.

“Is there any more of the tea?” Tal finally asked.

They nodded and left the room to retrieve the tea. Tal didn’t particularly care for the tea, but the longer he sat there with them looking at him, expectant, the harder he thought of ways to appease them so he could get back to the plans for the bridge. They returned a few moments later, a cup of hot tea for Tal in hand. He’d expected them to leave afterwards, but instead they sat down, a cup of tea for themselves each, and began sipping it contentedly.

“We would love to hear more about the bridge,” they said after taking a few sips. “And what has you so concerned.”

“I just don’t want it to break,” Tal said.

“You and the builders have made some good changes, though,” they observed, based on their previous conversations about the new designs. “This one will be much stronger.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if it’ll be strong enough.”

“Is that that all that’s keeping you awake?”

Tal didn’t respond at once. It was no secret now that Peak did not care for Spire. The rude reception Spire’s delegation had received was enough to show that, not to mention the intentional destruction of the first bridge. What Tal didn’t understand was why Spire was so willing, eager even, to rebuild the bridge in the first place. Dega had explained the approaching famine and eventual starvation that awaited Peak, but that still didn’t seem like enough to have convinced Spire to devote so much time and resources to an effort that may well result in failure yet again.

“A bridge goes both ways,” Tal said at last. “Sure, we could bring food to Peak, but they could just as easily bring war to Spire.”

The pair contemplated Tal for a moment.

“You worry that your people will not accept our aid?” they asked. “And that they would instead seek our destruction?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they’d think we were trying to trick them.”

“Why would they think that? If we were hostile to them, all we’d have to do would be to wait for them to starve.”

“We’re not always so smart in Peak,” Tal admitted. “They might be so convinced that we’re enemies that nothing Spire does could be seen as anything else.”

“Like a beaten dog who bites anyone who comes near,” they said, “even when no harm is intended.”

“Something like that, and I don’t see why Spire is in such a rush to get bit.”

The pair considered Tal for a while and he got the impression that they were having a secret conversation with one another. They certainly looked like they were trying to mask any expressions they might otherwise be making.

“Do people in Peak not show compassion for one another?” they finally asked.

“It’s not that,” Tal replied, even though he knew compassion was not very common in Peak.

How could he explain it? There just seemed to be something about the bridge, about Spire and Peak, that he was missing. He turned back to the plans for the bridge, ignoring the others for a moment. There was something there, he knew it, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He wasn’t even sure it was something to do with the structure itself. Maybe what was bothering him was more from the culture shock. Could it be that he was simply having a hard time accepting that people could be kind for no other reason than not wanting to see others suffer?

“Why was the first bridge built?” Tal asked when his thoughts began to get stuck in a never-ending loop.

“We wanted to know who you were,” they stated. It was the same statement that everyone had given him whenever he’d asked about their motivations behind the bridge.

“Most of the bridge was built over here in Spire,” Tal said, “but at least one team of builders would have had to have climbed up to Peak and built the portion of the bridge that anchored there before the bridge could have been completed.”

“We don’t understand.”

“Spire didn’t need to build a bridge,” Tal said, “they could have sent their people along the same route the builders took to reach Spire.”

“That sounds like a very long journey,” they replied. “With the bridge, we could go back and forth much more quickly.”

“I guess,” Tal admitted, “it just seems like a huge effort to go through when you aren’t sure what you’ll find on the other side. In Peak, we usually didn’t do something unless there was a pretty clear idea of what we would get out of it.”

“Sometimes,” the pair said, and their voices were suddenly thoughtful, “we find ourselves burdened with questions that we have no other way or means of answering, and so we do the only thing we can do and jump into the unknown.”

It was a nice sentiment, but it didn’t ring true for Tal.

“I already pointed out that you could have sent your delegation on foot along the same route your builders took, and it would have been far easier and faster.”

“How could such a long journey be faster than the bridge?”

“It’s only faster if the bridge is already built,” Tal pointed out. “If you’d sent your people at the same time you began work on the bridge, they could have gone and come back multiple times before the bridge was finished.”

They had no response for that remark and instead stared down into their now empty tea cups, occasionally swirling the dregs.

“You all wanted this bridge,” Tal finally said. “Maybe part of it was to get to know Peak, but there’s something else to it than that.”

The pair shrugged but offered nothing else.

“It’s late,” the said instead, “we are going to sleep. Good night.”

Tal waved and they departed. Tal felt that he might actually be able to get some sleep now as well. It wasn’t that he had found any answers, but he did at least feel sufficiently tired that he believed his weariness would win out against his questions. He put away the plans and other things he’d gotten out and then went to his room. Perhaps in the morning he could ask the other builders about it all. Maybe then he could get some real answers.

Sometimes he considered going to Dega since he always seemed to pick up on these things faster than Tal. For better or worse, Tal had yet to act on that consideration. Tal never felt very safe when Dega was around and didn’t feel that his questions justified such an encounter. Still, He couldn’t help but wonder what else Dega had found out.

Just as he was about to close his eyes and welcome sleep, Tal heard something move inside he bedroom. It was a subtle noise, but unmistakable nonetheless. Perhaps it was because he’d been thinking about Dega, but he immediately began to fear that the man who had once been a ruler in Peak had somehow snuck into Tal’s room so he could kill him.

His chest tightened and Tal began listing through the items that were within arms reach, searching for anything he could use to defend himself.

“Hello, Tal,” Dega’s voice spoke from the darkness and Tal stiffened even more. “Do not scream, I’m not here to hurt you.”

The darkness in the room was so complete that Tal couldn’t tell where Dega was exactly.

Tal thought about saying something like, ‘Why sneak into my room in the middle of the night and then ask me not to scream when you could have come to me at any other time during the day if you don’t intend to hurt me,’ but all that came out was “What do you want?”

“Just answer me this,” Dega said. “Where are all their children?”

It was a long and terrible silence that settled into the room, and Tal discovered yet another reason to question the reasoning behind Spire building the bridge of broken glass.