Elyse, were you there?”“I was. We were ten. I don’t even remember seeing you. I vaguely remember two altar boys, but my memory of that day is Jennie crying. And the American flag. Just like at Nick’s interment.”“That was your second one!” I said. “I didn’t even think about it!”“Jim was buried about fifty feet from where Nick is buried.”“And all these years, you never mentioned it and we never talked about it.”“I tried to put it out of my mind. I never put two-and-two together about you being an altar boy. I knew Aunt Jennie had met you at church.”“It’s funny the things we’ve never talked about.”“Steve, I did meet Birgit,” Kara said. “Sort of.”“What?! How?”“After a volleyball game. In fact, you were there, interviewing her for the newspaper. Your silly article Sweet Swede Sweats for Success! I was at the game, and Sandy van der Meer knew someone on the team. I don’t remember who, but she was friends with Birgit. I don’t think I even talked to her, but I did meet her.”“And you never. Cause the shelfy thing was stacked with my clothes. My old clothes – the clothes I had had to wear on Stumble, where the wind was plastic and ash, where stepping outside of Junker Port had needed several layers to keep my eyes working and my lungs from scarring up too bad. And there was my staff, snapped in half on the first day I had learned I was a Liminal Knight. Looking fresh and shiny and new.Next to the impossible clothing, the clothing from almost a year before and nearly two hundred clusters back, there was something even more dreamlike and strange. It looked, at first, like a reddish circlet, but it was sized for my neck, not my wrist. It had a small broach-latch on the front, made of a golden oval with a gemstone the size of my pinkie set into it. I picked up the circlet and my thumb touched the gemstone as I held it out.The circlet shivered – and spun out a dress more shimmery and fine and perfect than I’d ever dream of, back on Stumble. Like a fancy given form, it sang as.
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