1

W HEN K INCHEN came back from milking the goats, Old Ren sat up in bed and told her that Pip was gone. He’d been taken away by a very polite Raftworlder—one of the Raft King’s guards—down to the governor’s house for afternoon tea.

“Afternoon tea?” Kinchen asked. It was the first thing that came out of her mouth, but certainly not the real question. What would the king of Raftworld—or their island’s own governor, for that matter—want with Pip? He was just a boy, only eleven. And on top of that, everyone in town thought he was slow-witted, “not all there,” as she’d once overheard a townswoman say, fake-delicately.

(Kinchen had bumped into that woman and fake-accidentally caused her to drop her bag of apples. No one talked about her little brother that way. At least not in front of her.)

Old Ren coughed, his unusually pale face even whiter than usual. His cold had prevented him all week from leaving the house, and today he hadn’t even left his bed. “Afternoon tea,” he confirmed. “And no, I don’t know why. Right after you left for the goats. The guard said they needed him—not anyone else, just him. And that he’d meet the Raft King at tea.”

“I don’t understand,” said Kinchen. Already, though, she was finding her shoes for the trek into town. She’d have to go after him. Pip wasn’t stupid—he wasn’t —but he was odd, especially with people. He needed her help; he always would. She grabbed the dishrag and scrubbed at her face and hands. Probably it would be good to be presentable if she was going to attend a governor’s tea.

Ren shook his head. “I offered to come along. But the guard said no, just Pip.”

She stood in the middle of the room, shoes in hand, and stared at Old Ren. Their grandfather for all these years. The only adult she trusted completely. What was he telling her?

He leaned forward in his bed and coughed once more, holding her eyes with his. “Pip has gifts that no one else here has. Gifts with water. And the Raft King, who lives on the water, has no such gifts. My guess is that they want to consult Pip. They have a favor to ask him, someone they want him to talk to.”

Kinchen nodded slowly. That made sense. She stooped to pull on a shoe.

“You aren’t invited,” Ren repeated.

“I’m going.”

Ren nodded and lay back down on his pillows, pulling the covers back over his chest. Years ago he’d told Kinchen that he’d seen her personality clear and sharp, right away, the moment he’d adopted her—when she was three and Pip was two. And knowing her as he did, Ren never stopped her if she had her mind set on something. It was, in Kinchen’s opinion, one of the many good things about Old Ren.

One shoe still in her hand, Kinchen studied him. “Are you going to be okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can. With Pip,” she added firmly.

“I’d go with you if I could.”

Kinchen knew then that Ren was worried. He wasn’t just letting her have her way; he was anxious about Pip.

But he didn’t say any more about that. “You be careful. And try to be polite. I’ll be fine, child. I’m just going to take a nap.” He closed his eyes, and his face suddenly looked gray and immobile, like a statue of himself.

She slipped on her other shoe and left, running down the hill and through the woods toward town.

•   •   •

K INCHEN RAN. She was very fast, but Pip and the Raftworld guard had quite a head start on her—probably more than an hour. Had the guard purposely arrived after she left the house? No, she wasn’t going to assume this was some kind of conspiracy. That was crazy. She was just going to find Pip and keep him from feeling lost and alone. Help him out. She put her hand up to her forehead almost without thinking and felt the coarser patch of hair that started at her temple and fell down the side of her face—the white stripe that she’d bleached into her dark hair, like a skunk’s tail. No matter how hard he tried, Pip couldn’t recognize faces, not even Kinchen’s. He couldn’t identify the governor or the Raft King or anyone else in town on sight, but with the stripe at least he’d always know his sister.

As she ran, she thought about what the Raft King might want; information from the fish made sense. After all, the water was wide, and Raftworld perched on it.

This world—the second world, as they all called it— contained few islands, and not all of them were fit for habitation. The Raftworlders lived on their enormous raft and moved from place to place, following the good weather and always searching for a place to call their own. And Kinchen’s people—the Islanders, as they were usually and simply called—lived on the main island of Tathenn and the little Colay islands that swung away from it in a string. Altogether, they called their land simply: the Islands.

Tathenn, where Kinchen lived with Old Ren and Pip, was the seat of government for the Islanders, so naturally when Raftworld visited—which they did, every decade or so—they came to the big island. As was their custom, they had sent a bird ahead to announce their arrival. And two days later they’d arrived, and everything on the island was put on hold for a week or more of celebration while they were in port. So much partying and music and food.

And so much trading: trading of cloth and baskets and books and paper (from the Islands) and beads and jewelry and fishing implements and clockwork devices and hydraulic machines (from Raftworld). And trading of food, and of stories and songs and news.

And exchanging of people. Traditionally, a few people from Raftworld would decide to stay on the island; and a few from the Islands would elect to join Raftworld. These were volunteers, and they were celebrated for their choosing, for some people were simply happier living on land, and others happier at sea. In practice this exchanging meant that although the Raftworlders looked different from the Islanders—their dark brown skin and tightly curled hair contrasted with the Islanders’ medium-brown skin and straight hair—there were, after all these years of trading, some darker people on the islands and lighter people on the rafts. And with marriages and the having of children, even more mixing. Sometimes you couldn’t tell for sure if someone was a Raftworlder or an Islander.

And since they were all here by accident and because of others’ schemes, they’d decided long ago to make peace with one another. When they met, they met in friendship.

Last time Raftworld came to visit, Kinchen and Pip were both too young to remember it. Nine years ago, shortly after Ren had adopted them: Kinchen had been only three and Pip two.

When Raftworld finally returned four days ago, Old Ren had reminded Kinchen and Pip of all the history between Raftworld and the Islands, especially the friendship part. And he said there would be all kinds of goings-on in town for the Islanders to participate in.

“Maybe Pip should stay home,” said Kinchen. Her little brother, sitting at the table in their common room, hunched deeper into his book, so that only his spiky black hair stood up behind it.

Old Ren looked up from threading a needle. He was across the table from Pip, rebinding an old book for the town library. It was an early handwritten manuscript, almost two hundred years old, from before they’d invented a press, and the smell of old paper hung in the air.

“Because of the—the issue . With him in crowds. With faces. With people,” Kinchen said.

Pip scrunched down even farther. Only the very top of his hair showed.

“He should go.” Ren inserted the needle into the pages he was binding. “At least to hear the stories. You could tag along with him, keep him company if he likes.”

Kinchen frowned. She wanted Pip to be safe and not to be embarrassed or do something foolish—which meant he should stay out of crowds and away from people.

“You’ll both be fine,” said Ren. “And the storyteller from Raftworld is stellar.”

But now? Now Pip was gone, and he’d be scared and he wouldn’t recognize anyone and who knew what would happen?

Ren had said not to worry. But when he’d told her to be polite, she’d seen something flicker across his face. He’d glanced at her, his eyes pale blue and wide, and she’d stood shoe in hand and seen the fear there. She ran. SNhPNUNvf4JlyhouDyVGanoRwYv7N4YyRngprVjcTpgljcVhiJO36NnfvsDBOSmq