“So you be back from the Field,” he said. “What’s it like there? Scared, was you? Did creatures come in the night?”
Kira shook her head and smiled at him. Younger, one-syllable tykes were not allowed in the Field,
so it was natural that Matt would be curious and a little in awe.
“No creatures,” she reassured him. “I had fire, and it kept them away.”
“So Katrina be gone now from her body?” he asked in his dialect.
People from the Fen were oddly different. Always identifiable by their strange speech and crude manners,
they were looked down upon by most people. But not by Kira. She was very fond of Matt.
She nodded. “My mother’s spirit has gone,” she acknowledged. “I watched it leave her body. It was like mist. It drifted away.”
Matt came over to her, still carrying an armful of twigs. He squinted at her ruefully and wrinkled his nose.
“Your cott is horrid burnt,” he told her. Kira nodded. She knew that her home had been destroyed, though secretly she had hoped she was mistaken.
“Yes,” she sighed. “And everything in it? My frame? Did they burn my threading frame?”
Matt frowned. “I tried to save things but it’s mostly all burnt. Just your cott, Kira. Not like when there’s a big sickness.
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