I remember a story of a girl in Paradise who ate an apple once. Some wise Sapient gave it to her. Because of it she saw things differently. What had seemed gold coins were dead leaves. Rich clothes were rags of cobweb. And she saw there was a wall around the world, with a locked gate.

He had wanted so hard to Escape, to find the stars. And all he had found was a new prison.

Chloe turned to Vetch. The poet said gently, "You see, you do have power. Words give you power, to create or destroy." His eyes flickered to Clare. "Even to forgive.

Shadow turned. Her eyes were wet; she smiled at him wanley. "I'll be she loved you.

Finn smiled ruefully. "I'm a Prisoner, old man. Just like you.

He worked night and day. He made a coat that would transform him; he would be more than a man; a winged creature, beautiful as light. All the birds brought him feathers. Even the eagle. Even the swan.

I always was going to be a writer. The other jobs were just to keep me in food. Though I enjoyed the archaeology.