III
Loading the Dice“Death loads the dice.” Frando’s voice was soft in the dreamy warmth of the schoolroom. “That’s how it survives.” Through the arched doorway to the courtyard, a fountain murmured its cool, expensive enticements, but this morning some of the girls ignored it, intrigued at this promising change from dull philosophy. “The path the dice take in life meanders. It may be long or short, straight or curved, but it always ends. Death wins every round. Yet it never does more than break even.” The thick walls of the house blocked everything but the fountain and Frando’s smooth tones, but the girls heard anyway the soft breaths of desert wind, and the rustle of sand swirling over roofs and streets. “Can any of you tell me why?”
The girls paying attention looked down, or at each
