For two days Bryant couldn't get the Tarrin girl out of his head. He hung around the cliff, jumping down whenever someone whistled, but it was never her.

Maybe she went home, he told himself. Maybe she stopped hiking too far inland looking for herbs. Or maybe she decided she’d had enough of his attitude and wasn't coming back. It was for the best. Really.

Unless they cut her wings off. He knew the Breens wouldn't do such a thing—but what if someone else found out? What if her cloak flipped in the ocean breeze and someone saw the bandaged wings underneath? What if they saw her bathing? She would either be dead or a wingless slave by now.

He sat with Elett and Celeste, eating breakfast in their cave and staring out into the mist-shrouded trees. "You do not think she is hurt, do you?"

Celeste looked at him. "Who?"

"The Tarrin girl with wings."

"She has a name."

"I do not like her name."

Celeste smiled and shook her head. "No, I do not think she is hurt. She climbed the mountain—I am sure she can handle Timin Breen."

He took a bite of food and thought while he chewed. That didn't make him feel better. "What about the other Gaerloms?"

"She is an Odion. She can take care of herself."

"Is that how she ended up with half-wings the first time?" Annoyance crept into his voice. It was directed at Celeste, but it was for himself too. He didn't know why he should care about the Tarrin girl at all.

Celeste didn't answer and they went back to eating in silence until a hand appeared on the edge of the doorway and Kaye pulled herself up. She dusted off and smiled brightly, as if climbing up to someone's cave was normal. "Good morning."

Bryant couldn't keep the shock from his face and Celeste smiled at him. "I told you."

"Told him what?" Kaye asked as Elett jumped into her arms for a hug.

"That the Gaerloms had not hurt you."

Kaye turned her bright smile on Bryant as she set Elett down. "You thought they hurt me?"

He looked down and his words came out mumbled. "It has been a few days."

Kaye's smile grew. "So, you're saying you were worried. Did you miss me?"

She was taking far too much pleasure in his discomfort, and he would have left if Elett didn't crawl into his lap and smile at him. Now he had to answer. "I was concerned because you would not be the first Faye they have caught."

He was still looking away when she touched his shoulder with a warm hand. He couldn't help but look at her.

"Thank you. It's good to know someone was worried."

"I was worried too!" Elett chimed in, and Bryant was grateful that the little girl always wanted to be part of the group.

Kaye turned her smile on Elett. "Thank you very much. I'm happy to announce that I'm perfectly fine, other than a ragged bandage. But I knew just the Daughter to seek out—so I came straight to you."

Elett squealed with joy and hopped up to help Celeste as Kaye removed her cloak and sat. Bryant could have left, but he had nothing else to do and he was curious to see the damage to her wings.

There was a thin scab running along the cut edges of both wings, halfway down from where they should have stopped. Bryant had seen wing injuries before, but never both wings cut in half—and never by a weapon. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her, and for the way he had treated her. When he learned she couldn't fly because someone cut her wings…he never imagined it was this bad.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner," Kaye said. "Timin's been watching me like a hawk. I think he was afraid the mysterious 'mountain spirits' were going to abduct me." She laughed. "And so they have."

"He did not follow you?" Bryant said, suddenly on alert.

"Of course not. You don't have to ask me that every time you see me." She winced as Celeste put a new layer of poultice on the cuts. "I think Gabe knew he was bothering me—he made Timin go fishing with him again today, although we have plenty."

Elett moved in front of Kaye with wide eyes. "Do you eat fish all the time?"

Kaye giggled. "No, but everything we eat is from the ocean. I'd give the rest of my wings for some venison."

"Do not say that," Bryant chided. How could she joke about losing her wings when she'd come so close to it already?

"Is he always like this?" Kaye looked at Celeste.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Yes." Celeste began to wrap the wing in a clean bandage.

"Like what?" he asked again, annoyed with them both.

"Grumpy," Kaye said over her shoulder. "Concerned. Serious. Take your pick. You're even more sobering than my sister."

The way she said it angered him, although he never felt bad for his demeanor before. "We cannot all be happy-go-lucky in the face of danger."

She turned to him, and her eyes flashed with the spirit of the Odion. "It's not dangerous here. The Gaerloms don't believe you exist, much less care where you live. They aren't going to follow me, and they aren't going to attack you. Since I've never had much use for my wings, I would gladly give one away for a whole deer to myself."

His mouth twitched. How dare she? She had no idea what she had gotten herself into. "Maybe if you didn’t have to hide your wings you would have a better appreciation for them."

"I don't have to hide them."

"In Gaerlom you do."

She turned and waved him away with a noise that said she didn't care. "I'm not staying in Gaerlom forever. Just until the snow melts."

"Then what?"

She shrugged. "Then I'll go home to warn them about the Obsidians."

Elett bounced into Kaye's lap. "You could live here! Your wings will be back, and you can be a Daughter, and live with me and Celeste."

"Celeste and me," the older Daughter corrected.

Kaye laughed. "Perhaps I will. If someone doesn't object on the grounds that I'm too happy—or too Tarrin." She looked over her shoulder at Bryant, eyebrows raised, and he stood. He'd had enough of this.

"You should go home," he said. "It is just a stupid…”

A look from Celeste stopped him and Kaye crossed her arms and waited for him to finish. "Just a stupid what? Tarrin village?"

He deflated. "Yes." He left before he blurted out what he was really going to say. If she knew the truth, he didn't know what would happen, but he was sure she would never go home again. The betrayal of the truth was much worse than that of the lie.