Pierrot’s song had fulfilled its purpose. It had released all the souls Mourini had taken. Lalia’s sisters were free once more. Mina finished the verse she had begun and waited in the ensuing silence for the aurora to fade. It struck her that she was still seeing only six colours. And the dancing lights were not going anywhere.
As always, Mina’s instincts told her what to do. She had to call the first storyteller, so Lalia could guide her sisters home to the heavenly realms. Though she had known endless doubt in the last twelve months as she struggled to find the right way to express her gifts, Mina knew it was time to call on her storytelling ability, which she shared with her ancestor, to tell anew a tale long mistold. She smiled a small smile as she remembered Papa’s wish, at the very
