Chapter 6: The DeadDay 4, There, second day on the river.
It was mid-afternoon, and there was a strong wind. Fletcher felt they were almost skimming the dark water. Cirrus clouds covered the sky, looking like row after row of cotton. He wondered if cotton grew in Faerie. He fingered the too-long tunic Owen had loaned him. The dark green cloth felt like cotton. He was about to ask what the cloth was made of, when Goro gave Fletcher an apple, insisting he eat it. He took the apple and as he sat down, Fletcher heard the voices calling to him.
Come, all of you. Come…Who are you?
The dead. Please come. They spoke in unison, a sad chorus.
“Can you hear voices? Are you sure?” Goro asked, flickering back and forth between he/she/they.
“Yes.”
“It’s the place we told you about,” Owen called fr
