Chapter Nine
I didn’t talk to Ransom again. I barely spoke at all, since I had no one left to talk to.
All Luar buzzed with preparations for the Ageing ceremony the next day. All except Dad, who watched me thoughtfully and didn’t speak a word.
Kids at school gossiped about why Ransom’s hands were bandaged. Their wildest stories were nowhere near as impressive as the truth. My fingernails looked awful, but everyone simply assumed I’d attempted an over-ambitious cartwheel.
Blue sky glared overhead, and there was a light breeze. It was perfect weather for sailing.
Those telking pirates better not come today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or—
After much thought, I decided to consider Patchy a deliberate and stylish echo of the other two. All I had to do was figure out how to make t
