"Bippi?" I ask quietly, surveying the wide stretch of ocean that now lies between me and what used to be my home.

"Yes, Sina?"

"You weren't in trouble, were you? The day I found you?"

The little black octopus tilts his body in such a way as to convey a smile. "No, Sina, I was not."

Salt-stung hands knit at my skirts. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling.

Bippi continues, "The Grey God felt your power and sent me to test you."

Test.

"Is this a test, Bippi?" I sob, but no more tears fall. I don't believe I shall cry again.

"No," the octopus replies quietly.

I swallow hard. Then I am on my own. No village, no god; no father, no mother, no ... lover. Just me and the sea.

Gathering the tattered remains of my strength and pride around me like a sea-worn cloak, I turn away from the edge of the island.

"Come, Bippi," I say. The black octopus undulates and slowly follows.

Plans must be made.