That was the night I became an adult. It seems odd to think of an eight year old as grown up, but there are no other moments in my memory that have defined more the stony bridge between childhood and adult life.

From that moment on, Karekare and I were the men of our small families. We never referred to each other as Mr. Blacksand and Mr. Voren aloud, but I think we both thought of ourselves that way. In my mind, I was Melain, which seemed very masculine at the time, and Karekare was Karekare, because it seemed like it would work for either gender.

It wasn't until noon that we awoke. I would have liked to sleep later, but Bianca began jumping on my sore muscles and wouldn't stop until she got "good food."

"What's 'good food,' 'Anca?" I asked, roughly shoving her off my stomach.

"Hot food," said Bianca in a whimper.

I sighed and surveyed our one room. All the supplies we had stored in the house had been stolen, but a quick walk would take us to the hidden food. In my head, I thanked Mama and Papa for sending me out every day with food. With luck, we wouldn't go hungry that winter.

"All right, get up, Anc." I staggered to my feet and pulled Bianca up after me. Karekare and Ranyel slept on, thankfully. I knew nothing about injuries, but in my opinion, Karekare needed rest. I could play at being the leader for the morning.

As we walked, Bianca complained. She was cold, she was hungry, her feet hurt, why couldn't I go by myself? I should like to say that I merely ignored her cries, tried to comfort her, or picked her up and carried her, but that would be lying.

In truth, I doubt that any eight year old, male or female, could put up with a whiny five year old, myself included. At first, I attempted to ignore her, but when she began yanking on my shirt sleeve, I couldn't help myself. I turned around and slapped her.

Bianca looked at me, shocked. Her pale cheek was turning pinkish. I had never slapped anyone so thoroughly before, and upon seeing the distressed expression on my sister's face, I vowed that I never would again. Her lip trembled, and one of her hands reached up to pull at her hair.

My face grew hot and tight as I tried not to cry. I felt as if some fiery creature had lodged itself beneath my skin and was trying to break free through my eyes. Falling to my knees, I looked into Bianca's eyes. She collapsed against me, sobbing with her arms around my neck and her face smashed on top of my head.

"Come on, come on," I muttered. "We have food to get."

The next few days were spent in a quiet tedium of staying out of sight of anyone who might bother to look for us. No one ever came. It was three days before we left the shelter of our house. We only left because the black smoke that had poured out continuously from the Blacksands' area had finally stopped.

"Let's see what was burning," Karekare suggested at our meager breakfast.

"What if that was a fire from someone's camp?" I asked. "We could be killed, Karekare."

"A cooking fire doesn't make that much smoke," she replied. "It wouldn't hurt anything to go and look."

"Yes, it would!" I hissed back. "We could put Bianca and Ranyel in danger."

"So we won't take them with us. They'll do what we say if we promise them something. Problem solved."

"But Karekare..." I tried in vain to think of an argument that would sway her. Ranyel and Bianca were playing their favourite counting game nearby, and I didn't want them to overhear the conversation at hand.

"What's wrong, Melly? It'll be fine." She pouted and opened her slitty eye so wide that I could see the white all around the dark part. I tried to imagine her other eye following suit, but I failed.

Ignoring the images of Karekare's face without a bandage flooding my brain, I answered, "I don't know."

"See? We'll be all right, Melly." She turned to the younger girls. "Ranyel? Bianca? Melly and I are going exploring. Stay here and be good and you'll have a good dinner."

They nodded happily when presented with such a grand reward. Karekare grabbed my hand and pulled me away towards the path to her home.

"Do you see anything?" I whispered, looking over my shoulder.

"No. The fire must have been closer to my house."

We walked slowly, with our heads bent low, avoiding any sticks lying in the path. The forest loomed over us, waiting to pounce. Normally, I was at home in the land between my home and Karekare's, but today, even the leaves seemed ferocious. Every moment seemed like a hesitation that would show our deaths in the next second.

Karekare's eye was worried. Even she, in her reckless glory, could feel tension in our surroundings.

I wanted to say, "Can't we go home, Karekare?" but I'd look cowardly. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and wished that Karekare would suggest stopping, but she didn't, either.

The smell came upon us then, in a putrid wave so heavy that I felt as if I saw it. In my memory, the scene has turned to a foggy, opalescent white, the colour of coffin silk. Karekare lurched in her step, as any will do upon recognizing the vile stench of their dead.

We came upon the Blacksand home. To put it simply, it was gone. The charcoaled wood and ashes piled up to my eyes. Rising into the air was a thin plume of smoke. It swirled into the blue of the sky, fascinating me.

I moved nearer to the remains of the house. Taking a stick, I began to poke at the pile, to see if anything could be saved, but I couldn't find a thing. All that I could discern from the rubble were the twisted remains of Madame Blacksand's best jewelry. The wooden box that Papa had made for her to hold it in was gone, but the molten shape of its clasp lay near.

As I tried to pick up the bracelets and earrings without injury, Karekare moved towards the edge of her land. She called for me, her voice wavering between fright and hysteria.

I ran over, forgetting my bauble rescue mission. Karekare's face was bent towards the ground in front of another, smaller ash pile.

"They've been burnt, Melly! They've been burnt," she sobbed. "They'll never be able to meet Dorran in his Dominon because they haven't got bodies to be judged!"

I knelt beside her, finally realizing what the ashes were. Karekare yelled her wrath at the wicked murderers for burning her parents, her gods for allowing this to happen, and at the elder Blacksands for not saving themselves. Mostly she yelled at herself, though, and at the world in general.

"We can't let Ranran and Anca anywhere near here," she said, when her tears had begun to dry. "They must stay far, far away."

"They will," I agreed, biting my lip a bit. "Karekare? What are we going to do with, err...your parents?"

Karekare shook her head. "Let's go back, Melly."

"But Karekare--"

"Let's. Go." She pursed her lips and stood up, wobbling a bit. "Come on, Melisande."

I followed Karekare's jerky walk, casting a last melancholy look at Karekare's old home. The single puff of smoke danced up through the clearing and into the pale blue sky.

At home, Bianca and Ranyel sat, being very good as promised. When we returned, Ranyel jumped up and down upon seeing us, so happy was she for a hot meal. Neither she nor Bianca noticed our weary stares and appeared quite confused at Karekare, who stalked off to her bed without casting a glance at the rest of us.

"Food now?" Ranyel asked. "It's dinnertime, Melly."

"Please, Melly? Please?" Bianca pointed up at the sone, our clock. "It's time for dinner."

"All right. I'll make dinner." Trying to forget about Karekare's face, I grinned. "Let's all go get the food together, shall we? You can tell me what you want to eat on the way over."

I successfully avoided Ranyel and Bianca's questions about Karekare for the entire day. We didn't go home until late, after a picnic dinner by the river and the requisite wading afterwards.

Supper at home was subdued, as Karekare still wouldn't come out. I was afraid to call for her, even to light our fire. There was something absolutely horrifying about seeing Karekare's tired face and so I burned the tips of my fingers rather than ask for her help.

Karekare behaved in this manner for quite a while. I thought she was merely mourning in her peoples' traditional way, by avoiding the sunlight and fasting. I could remember when Mr. and Madame Blacksand had mourned for Mr. Blacksand's father, but they ended their mourning period in a fortnight. Karekare avoided the world for a month, and then six weeks.

When I had not seen her for two months, even Ranyel and Bianca befan to wonder what was going on. The proposition of confronting Karekare sat like an icy twist of my insides, but I had no other options. Winter approached, and I needed Karekare's help in gathering our food and clothing.

It was a chilly night when I waited up for Karekare. The leaves on the trees were just holding on to life. A few fluttered down around me while I waited for the moon to rise, which seemed like the time that Karekare might make an appearance.

The moon was high over my head before she dared come out. She called quietly to me, with a wounded voice. "Go to bed, Melisande."

I gritted my teeth when she called me Melisande in the same tone as my mother would. Karekare's mimicry was good, as usual, but tonight I didn't appreciate it. "No. Why don't you?"

"I've got to work on my eye." She stood up in the middle of the clearing. I followed suit, ignoring the aching in my legs. "It's a wonder I'm not dead yet. I rather like that, so I'm trying to fix my eye."

"Fix it? So you can see again?" I drew my eyebrows close together in a frown. "How're you doing that?"

"I'm not going to fix it like that," she replied shakily. "I just don't want it rotting in my head. I've been trying to get it all out of my head. When I've finished doing that, I'll sew it all together and make a better eyepatch."

With a thump, I sat down again. My stomach was twisting again, though not out of fear.

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