Tate and the other boy, Bizhan, each took up an oar, with Violet, the smallest of the three, huddled between them. They each had a single knapsack of belongings and the clothes on their backs. Endlans operated on a barter system, so there had been no coin to send Tate with, but Fiona had placed some of her finest knitwear in the sack, hoping Tate would be able to trade for it. Leelo had a feeling her brother would sooner starve than part with any of his mother’s things, though. They were all he’d have to remember her by, outside of memories.

As the children made their way across the lake, the other families in attendance turned to leave. They didn’t sing for this ceremony; it would only endanger the children, and while they may be deficient in the eyes of some Endlans, they were still innocent.

Suddenly a thunderclap sounded so loudly that Leelo jumped and covered her ears. There had been no warning signs of a storm, and yet there could be no disputing that one had just arrived. Some said the Wandering Forest affected the weather itself, though how that could be, Leelo didn’t know, any more than she understood how the Forest affected the lake. But as the rain began to fall in fat, cold drops, she saw the poor children huddle closer together in the boat. Now they would be soaked through by the time they arrived on the far shore.

Fiona was still sobbing, and Leelo decided it wouldn’t help to watch. She took her mother and turned her away from the lake. As the council members began to pass them, heading back into the Forest, Leelo called after Ketty.

“What about the boat?”

“We’ll fetch it in the morning. No one will be out in this weather, and there’s no sense making ourselves sick over it.”

It was a terribly callous thing to say, even for Aunt Ketty.

By the time they reached the cottage, Sage and Ketty were already warming themselves by the fire. Leelo helped her mother remove her sodden clothing and change into a warm flannel nightgown, then tucked her into bed.

“You’re such a dear girl,” Fiona said, cupping Leelo’s cheek. “I’m so fortunate to have you.”

Leelo kissed her mother, trying her best not to cry, and went to her room. She shivered violently as she stripped out of her own soaked dress and stockings. Still naked, she climbed under the covers of her bed and pulled them up over her head, waiting for the tremors to pass. Most spring storms weren’t this cold or this sudden, and Leelo was usually good at predicting the weather. It was almost as if the island were inflicting one final punishment on the incantu, its own way of saying, “And don’t ever come back!”