“It would be easy to get lost.”

“We don’t,” I said. “But it happens, when people don’t know the way.” I thought about this for the first time. How was it that we always did know the way?

Simon leaned back against the trunk of a leafless ash tree, shutting his eyes. “I have a story for you,” he said, surprising me greatly. “I don’t have your skill in telling, but it’s simple enough.”

“All right,” I said cautiously, not knowing what to expect.

“There were two brothers,” said Simon, and his voice was flat and expressionless. “They were like enough in looks, and strength, and intelligence; but the one had a few years’ advantage over the other. Funny, what a difference a few years can make. Their father died; and because of those few years, the elder brother inherited the whole estate. And the other? Just a little parcel of land nobody wanted, that’s all he got. The elder was loved by all; he had those few years to establish his claim on their hearts, and gain their loyalty, and he did so with never a thought to his brother. And the younger? Somehow although he was just as good, and strong, and talented as his brother, nobody ever seemed to know it.

“The elder was a leader, and his men looked up to him and respected him. He was a man incapable of error, and he commanded total loyalty wherever he went, without effort. The younger? He did his best; but it was never quite good enough.” Simon fell into silence, as if unwilling to go on.

“So what happened?” I asked eventually.

Simon stretched his mouth into what might have passed for a grin, if not for the coldness of his blue eyes. “The younger got a chance to prove himself. To do something that everyone, even his brother, couldn’t fail to recognize. After that, he thought, I will be like him, just as good as him, better even. He took the chance, and failed.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, little witch. This story doesn’t seem to have an ending. How would you finish it?” He lowered himself to the ground cautiously.

I moved over to make room for him on a fallen branch. Linn was in her element, snuffling around in the autumn leaves, darting here and there, running back to check on us from time to time then bounding off after a new scent.

I chose my words with care. “It has the makings of a learning tale, though they usually have three brothers, not just the two. I think the younger brother would head off into the world to seek his fortune, and leave his big brother behind. On the way he’d meet three people, or creatures—it’s usually three.”

“You have an answer for everything,” said Simon bleakly. “Tell me the rest.”

“Well, you could end the story in a few different ways,” I said, warming to the task.

“Let’s say the little brother meets an old woman. He’s hungry, and he only has one oatcake, but he gives it to her. She thanks him, and he goes on. Maybe next he sees a rabbit caught in a snare; and he frees it.”