Ideas were growing in all directions and dimensions; they were becoming a sculpture, or a castle. And then everyone left her, to return to their own affairs; and she was alone, and empty and unbelieving again.

Garan snorted. "Now that we know about his indigestion, we can torture him with cake.

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.

And she would protect him as fiercely, if it were ever his need- if a fight ever became too much for him or if he needed shelter, or food, or a fire in the rain. Or anything she could provide. She would protect him from anything.

She knew he was angry, but she couldn't stop laughing. "Forgive me, Po. I was only trying to get your attention." "And I suppose it never occurs to you to start small. If I told you my roof needed rebuilding, you'd start by knocking down the house.

Not all people who inspire devotion are monsters.

...that's how memory works ... Things disappear without your permission, then come back again without your permission.