It was several hours before Marcella's party finally took a break. She was glad to be out of the giant's smelly clothing, but she didn't want to say anything else to make Grelchin think she was whining.

Grelchin was in the process of lighting a fire when Marcella said, "you don't seem so. . . so . . . 'Enfeebled' anymore."

"Sorry?"

"Well, you're standing a little straighter than before . . . and you're moving a little quicker."

"Perhaps you're simply seeing me in a new light after such a long hike. One wouldn't have expected such an old man as myself to make it, I suppose."

Marcella chewed her lip and shook her head. She wasn't convinced of Grelchin's reasoning, but she didn't fight it.

"Now, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No, why would I?"

"Back by the remains of the sky whale you started singing a song about Mary and her lamb."

"Yeah."

"Well . . . why?"

Marcella thought hard about it, considering whether it was smart to explain to Grelchin. "I . . ." He already thought she was crazy, would this help her cause or make it worse? "I spent a long time with doctors, they told me that when I was overwhelmed it would help if I took some time and reminded myself of familiar things. Nursery rhymes are my familiar things."

"I see, it does seem like it might be an effective technique."

"It's not, really. Mostly it's just a habit. It does work sometimes, but lately everything seems . . . bigger--more difficult to deal with."

Grelchin laughed and his hearth began to glow with the warmth of a budding flame.

"What's so funny?"

"You say things are more difficult to deal with, yet you dealt with our friend the giant without even a single line of verse."

"What do you mean?"

"You stood up to a giant, to certain death, and I did not hear a single word of Mary or any sort of infantile farm animals."

Marcella chewed on her lip, not wanting to embrace the pride which was elicited by Grelchin's statement. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"Perhaps that is the new technique you should be utilizing to overcome your troubles."

"What technique is that? Running head first into danger without thinking twice about it?"

Grelchin stood up as the tiny flames grew into a roaring fire. He stepped over to Marcella and put a hand on her shoulder. "Taking charge," he said, "acting when others would be too frightened, commanding the situation."

"I don't know anything about doing that." Marcella shook her head and looked away. "I've been drugged up, tied down and had my head shrunk so many times. I'm not supposed to have any authority over myself let alone others."

"And yet, 'without thinking twice about it' you felled that giant like he was a young sapling, rather than a towering oak."

"I didn't really do that. It was the bugs, and the rodents."

"Who never would have been cable of doing it without your guidance, without your authority."

Grelchin's words summersaulted and cartwheeled through Marcella's head. They swam with the words of Rowena and Crenshaw, the promises that she was somehow powerful enough for them to learn something from. She looked up and half smiled before saying, "you really think so, Grelchin?"

"Of course I do. What sort of insects or lowly mice have you known to organize themselves in such a fashion? You told those creatures what to do and they listened. Not because you're bigger than them, oh no. Look at how much bigger than you that giant is, yet you didn't give in to his will. You are a special young lady, Marcella Southern."

For the first time since her journey began, Marcella embraced the feeling of being special. She allowed it to wash over her broken and bruised ego. All she'd ever wanted was to be normal, now the thought of being something exceptional excited her.

"Thanks, Grelchin. You don't know how much it means to hear stuff like that."

Grelchin smiled and said, "Just one more question, m'lady . . . who is Mary?"

Marcella laughed and clapped a hand against Grelchin's back. "I really don't know, I never met the girl."

"Ah."

Silva laid close to Grelchin's fire and shortly after the rodents began grouping around her, nuzzling into her fur and she didn't seem to mind. The giant flopped onto the ground, which made Marcella's knees buckle and Grelchin pulled a loaf of bread from his cloak as if it had simply materialized there in that moment.

"Thank you," Marcella said, "the supplies Narri gave me are gone, I thought we'd be going hungry."

"Not with old Grelchin around, I've got plenty of tricks up my sleeve yet."

"Good to hear."

As Marcella began to eat, a small field mouse found its way over to her, sniffing at the air in a way which made its whiskers jiggle.

"You want some?" She sprinkled the ground with crumbs and like a flock of birds the hungry rodents abandoned Silva and descended on the crumbs.

"Very generous of you, sharing your limited resources with the companions of death," Grelchin said, "how long do you think those crumbs will sustain these creatures for?"

"Hopefully long enough."

"Long enough for what?"

"For me to do what ever I need to do to save this place."

Grelchin smiled, then moved to lie down alone. "Good to see you're finally embracing your destiny."

Marcella smirked as Grelchin climbed carefully down to the ground. She noticed the movements of his body and swore to herself that they seemed more fluid than before, even if he denied it.

She turned to the giant, he was lying on his side now on the hard ground and Marcella found his shadow to be a much more comfortable spot in which to sleep than out in the open. The sun was still perpetually perched on the western horizon, which made it too bright to think of sleep, but the giant's shadow was an intense darkness.

"Excuse me, giant." Marcella said and the groggy thing snorted in acknowledgement. "Um . . . do you have a name I can call you?"

"Guhg."

"Guhg?" Marcella thought it was a strange name, but then again what about the past few days wasn't strange? "Guhg, if I sleep in your shadow, here beside you, will you be able to promise me you won't roll over on top of me?"

"Guhg promise."

"Excellent." Marcella smiled and curled up beside Guhg, the monster of a man.

She struggled to get comfortable, she brushed aside the loose stones, then bunched her clothing around those that wouldn't budge. By the time she got comfortable she realized that everyone around her was fast asleep.

"How do you all live like this." She sighed and rested her head on a large rock, testing its capacity as a pillow.

As she finally felt sleep edging into her consciousness, she heard a muted birdsong which seemed familiar. She opened her eyes and saw, with a reluctant smile, the yellow feathered figure of Raphael.

"Raph," she whispered, "what are you doing here? How did you even get here?" The bird whistled and twittered and Marcella thought of all the things she had learned about Rowena since getting to Lemuria. "I can trust you, right? You're not like Rowena . . . are you?"

The canary sang some more and when Grelchin started to shutter the bird took off and flew away into the west. Into the ever setting sun.

---

Raphael flew fast, pushing every muscle to its limit as he left Marcella and her party behind. The little bird dove through the air and extended his wings to slow his descent. He perched on the shoulder of a slender and sharp featured woman in black, who in turn was perched in the precarious branches of the dead trees.

A flash of red shone out from behind her right ear, followed by green. She turned to Raphael and lifted an abnormally long finger to stroke his delicate back.

"You've found her." The woman's voice rolled from her lips like a cascade of cold water. She took Raphael onto her finger, then brought him around so they could look eye to eye. ". . . So she has come home."

The woman held a handful of seed out for Raphael, who pecked at it happily. "Take me to her, then. The more efficiently we complete our orders, the sooner we can get out of this dead realm."

She put the seed away and gently tossed Raphael into the air. She the leapt to the ground and ran along Raphael's trail as he led the way to Marcella.