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“You’re joking, aren’t you?” fumed Waterstone. “You can’t ask us to travel in a coach or a riverboat. It’s too much.”
“Wow!” Rainstorm’s eyes were round with excitement “That’s an amazing idea. Don’t say ‘can’t,’ Waterstone,” he pleaded. “Just ask instead, ‘How can we?’…. Please?”
Waterstone glared at him.
It was late, close to midnight. The small group of woodfolk sat with Tarkyn around their fire, the coals glowing deep orange beneath the flames. They had stayed up to see him, knowing he would return to them that night. Lapping Water sat near him. Midnight was on his knee, as usual. On the other side of the fire, Autumn Leaves was checking that their voices hadn’t roused Gurgling Brook who lay asleep, wrapped in blankets, beside him.
Sparrow, who was on guard duty in the tree abo
