otourSpeck,"Smaolachtoldtheothers."Ifshesalive,shewontbeingbackforus."

    Thefaeriesstolefurtiveglame,notknowinghowmuchIhadheard.Iputdownmystringoffishaoshavethescales,pretendingthattheirdiscussionhadnoeffee.ButhearingSmaolachgavemepause.Itossiblethatshehadnotsurvived,butIpreferredtothinkthatshehadeithergootheupperworldorreachedherbelovedsea.Theimageoftheobroughttomiensecolorsofhereyes,andabriefsmilecrossedmyface.

    "Shesgone,"Isaidtothesilentgroup."Iknow."

    Thefollowingdaywespentturniohecreekbed,gatheringthehidisandsalamaocooktogetherihedaywashot,andthelabortookitstoll.Famished,weenjoyedariess,fulloftinybohatchedaswechewed.Whearsemerged,weallwenttobed,ourstomachsfull,ourmusclestaxedbythelongday.Iawokequitelatethemanddrowsilyrealizedthatshehadnotoncecrossedmyminderefingthepreviousday.Itookadeepbreath.Iwasfetting.

    Speckspresencelacedbydullness.Iwouldsitandstareattheskyorwattsmardpracticedriviofmymind.Anythingthattriggeredamemorycouldbestrippedofitspersonal,embeddedmeanings.Araspberryisaraspberry.Theblackbirdisametaphorfornothing.Wordssignifywhatyouwill.ItriedtetHenryDayaswell,andacceptmyplaceasthelastofmykind.

    Allofuswerewaitingfornothing.Smaolaeversaidso,butIknewhewasnotlookingtomakethege.Aoplanstostealanotherchild.Perhapshethoughtouroofewfortheplexpreparations,orperhapsheseheworlditselfwasging.InIgelsday,thesubjectcameupallthetimewithacertailessenergy,butlesssounderBéka,andneverunderSmaolaoreaissancemissionsinto