She would thump them both, and she would apologize to neither.

Part of avoiding thoughts about something was not encouraging opportunities for that something to makes itself felt.

What she really loved was to hang over the edge and watch the bow of the ship slice through the waves. She loved it especially when the waves were high and the ship rose and fell, or when it was snowing and the flakes stung her face.

You're afraid of your own anger.

Why does everybody throw every troublesome thing into the river?

It seems better to me for a child to have these skills and never use them, than not have them and one day need them," she said.

It always struck Fire, the physical affection between these siblings, who as often as not were at each other's throats over one thing or another. She liked the way the four of them shifted and changed shape, bumping and clanging against one another, sharpening each other's edges and then smoothing them down again, and somehow always finding the way to fit together.