Tiuri teaches Piak the contents of the secret letter during a night spent considering how to cross the river. The lesson changes the mission from a responsibility carried by Tiuri alone into one Piak can take up if necessary. Neither understands the message, so the handover depends on patient repetition, secrecy, and memory as dawn approaches.

Circumstances and Decision

Tiuri sits beside Piak again and shares his thoughts with him. Piak sees no appealing way across: he distrusts swimming and thinks they may have to pay with the ring, but leaves the decision to Tiuri. In this unsettled moment, Tiuri pauses before asking whether Piak can remember something important. The question opens a second line of preparation alongside the immediate problem of crossing the river: what will happen to the mission if its bearer cannot continue?

Tiuri first whispers a few words, prompting Piak to ask what he is saying. He then explains that he is about to give Piak the letter’s message word for word. The exchange is deliberate and private. Tiuri does not hand over the letter in the passage; instead, he begins transferring its contents into Piak’s memory, making the knowledge itself a safeguard.

A Shared Mission

Tiuri says he had considered telling Piak before, because Piak is right that the mission has become his as well. He now wants Piak to know the message so that, if something happens to him, Piak can take over. The contingency is stated plainly: the journey may depend on a successor who knows what the letter says, not merely on Tiuri carrying the physical document.

Piak appears impressed by the trust being placed in him, but quickly turns to the practical task ahead. He accepts the lesson as something to occupy the time until daylight, while hoping that he will never need to assume Tiuri’s role. His response holds the scene’s two possibilities together: the mission is genuinely shared, yet both would prefer that the safeguard remain unused.

Learning What Cannot Yet Be Understood

Tiuri quietly recites the letter’s contents in short portions, having Piak repeat each part. The method makes the transmission incremental: Piak is not simply told the message once but rehearses it as it is given. He asks whether Tiuri understands any of it; Tiuri does not, and Piak admits that he does not either. They wonder whether it might be a secret language, but the passage does not establish that this is so.

Their lack of comprehension does not prevent the words from being important. Piak asks Tiuri to begin again until he can learn the whole message by heart. The distinction between understanding and retention matters here: the two can preserve the wording for later even though its meaning remains obscure to them. The scene therefore makes memory a practical means of carrying the mission forward, without resolving the mystery inside the letter.

Secrecy and the Approach of Dawn

After some time, Tiuri warns Piak never to let anyone know that he has learned the contents. The instruction protects the knowledge by keeping the transfer concealed; Piak agrees that this is obvious. The letter’s message is now entrusted to a second person, but that redundancy is not meant to become public knowledge.

The lesson continues under a narrowing deadline. Piak notices that the eastern sky is beginning to lighten and wants to know every word before the sun rises. When night gives way to gray dawn, he is still muttering about the Rainbow River, which he finds cold and unwelcoming rather than beautiful. The river remains an immediate obstacle, while the repeated words of the letter become a second burden to carry. The scene ends on that image of unfinished effort: Piak is learning what he may need to deliver, although neither traveler can yet say what the message means.