Around the child there was no single, fixed color. Instead, hues rippled and shifted in harmonious waves, as though someone had opened a painter’s palette and laid the shades in careful order—from deepest to palest, then back again from the beginning. The child sat, yet touched nothing; I still had no body. I existed in the void, and yet at the same time I felt myself to be the very center of this world.

  And that was because the child did not occupy the same plane as I did—it hovered below me. Had it been the true center, we would have stood level; had I possessed a body, I would have been the one beneath.

  Another observation struck me: I no longer knew whether the shadow and the child were separate beings or precisely the same—one coin, two faces, just as our own world had been divided. The only certainty was that it, too, feared non-existence and craved companionship.

  The ravenous hunger and the bone-deep weariness that had gripped me vanished. I could not tell whether I was feeling its desires and reacting in kind, or whether something else was at work, but it seemed to be so.

  “Yes,” I answered. “He is as powerful as I say. He can erase you if he chooses. He can save me if he chooses. He can do anything—yet no one ever truly knows what he wants.”

  “And what is your friend called?” it asked.

  “I don’t think he has a name—or at least he never told me one. But when I needed him, he came. He cared for me. He saved me from death.”

  “And what does your friend look like?”

  “He looks like a stag. His antlers form a crown around his head, and he gives nourishment and life to this entire world.”

  “Yes… I think I’ve heard of a stag from Mother. She told me we betrayed him, and that’s why we live on the island now. She said that if I go with Father and ever find that stag, I must not forget her. I must come back and save her from the island, because she can’t bear it any longer.”

  “Was that your mother—the one you held in your arms when I first saw you inside the house?”

  The child lowered its gaze in shame and whispered something I could not catch.

  “I didn’t hear you. Could you say it again?” I asked.

  “No. I don’t want to. I’m ashamed.”

  “Then I won’t press you.”

  “Tell me about another of your strong friends—one who can defeat me. You said you have more. How many others?”

  “Let me see… Mmm… Certainly one friend—a girl—who can stop curses all by herself.”

  “Ooooh. And what’s her name?”

  “Her name is Kalli, and she has the most beautiful red hair you’ve ever seen in your life.”

  “Wow… I want to see her hair. Is she as beautiful as Mother? Mother is the most beautiful woman in the world. No one can be as beautiful as her.”

  “Mmm… I don’t know. I’ve never seen your mother, and you’ve never seen my friend. We’d have to bring them both to the same place so they could meet—otherwise we’ll never agree who’s more beautiful.”

  “You’re right, you’re right. That’s what we should do. But Mother can’t come right now. She’s trying to talk to the island council so father can take me. But I don’t want to go with father.”

  “Then I can heal you myself. But I don’t have my tools. You know a doctor can’t work without his instruments. How will I examine you? How will I discover exactly what’s wrong?”

  “Yes, that’s true. But now your body doesn’t exist anymore, so you can’t heal me. We’ll have to find another way. But you’re really sure you can make me well? You’re not lying to me?”

  “I’m not lying. I can make you well. But without my body we’ll both stay exactly as we are now. You’ll have to find a way to restore my body.”

  “I’m trying to put it all back together. I can’t manage it. Your skin has melted and your bones are broken. I keep trying again and again, but I can’t do it,” the child said with a note of complaint.

  I had never expected anything to come of this conversation, nor of my lie. Words could not help me where I now found myself, in the state I had become. Yet this child seemed to need help—help I had never allowed myself to accept when my own parents offered it.

  I never sat at the same table to talk with them. I never thanked them properly for the gifts they gave me. And now I felt it was only right to give my life some kind of ending that would satisfy me.

  Because a lie, when told for a good purpose, has another name: comfort.

  This child had been destined to become an elemental. Its father was one. When its powers first manifested, its mother had wanted to send it into the forest—because the phase of madness had already begun.

  But the child refused to be parted from its mother. It tried—just as Kalli had tried—to suppress its powers, but failed and ended up killing her.

  And most likely the same thing lies behind every curse on the island. People whose powers manifested late, or too violently, could not control them—perhaps did not even wish to—and refused to leave the island. Perhaps the powers themselves drove them mad. They were confined here, hidden in shadow—or someone hid them there.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  In any case, to save all the curses would be a Herculean labor, for the strength of a single one had made the entire island tremble in fear. Yet I—who now had nothing left to lose—might at least help one person, might perform one act I could be proud of before I vanished forever.

  “I don’t mind,” I said. “Perhaps we can find another way.”

  “Oh—yes! Maybe one of your other strong friends, or maybe the stag and Kalli can help you—help us put your body back together.”

  “My other friends might be able to. But first you have to do something for me. You see, I can no longer walk or go to them or speak with them. I want you to go in my place. Tell them I’m in terrible trouble and ask for their help. Can you do that?”

  “Where are these friends of yours?”

  “They’re far from the island. They’re on a road, and there they quarrel.”

  “Why do they quarrel?”

  “Because they still haven’t decided whether to return home or go to the castle beneath the moon.”

  “But Mother told me the house of the lions is beneath the moon, and all the people on the road are descendants of the lion.”

  “If you already know that, then why pretend you don’t know who the stag is, or who Kalli is?”

  For a moment the child fell silent. It stared at me without blinking, then smiled—a smile that stretched almost to its ears.

  “Heh heh. You caught me. You realized I was teasing you.”

  “You mean you think you were teasing me. I can tell which parts of what you’ve said are true and which are lies, you know.”

  “You’re lying. You can’t tell.”

  “Ha! So you admit some of what you’ve told me is true.”

  Silence again. The child lowered its head and scratched it, thinking hard. It might possess terrifying power, yet it remained a child—frozen in time and space, a child with the strength to upend the entire island. And it had evidently been in this state for a long while. More curses kept appearing. I suspected Kalli’s friend Gorgo had met the same fate. She did not want to leave Stas, and Stas did not want to let her go. Neither of them spoke the truth. She had probably managed to hide beneath Kalli’s shadow for a time—but no longer.

  The child lifted its head again, no longer smiling, and said:

  “The stag will not help you. The stag helps no one. And you lied.”

  “The stag has already helped me once, and it can help me again. I can prove it to you. Take all my bones and place them in the lake—but not at the shore. You’ll have to go farther in, or it won’t come. You must reach a place where the island can no longer be seen and no other humans can watch us.”

  “You’re lying to me.”

  “I’m telling the truth. It helped me once before, and it will help me again.”

  “Then why didn’t it help my mother? Why doesn’t it help the island? Why doesn’t it get rid of the lion and bring back the sun? If we had the sun, I wouldn’t have to leave mother, and father would stay with us. We would be a family.”

  “I can’t give you answers to any of those questions. But if you don’t do what I’m asking, I won’t be able to regain my body and heal you.”

  “If I leave the island I won’t be able to come back—that’s the law. And no one breaks that law.”

  “The law cannot heal you—so why obey it? If it helped you, I would agree you should follow it. But it doesn’t help you.”

  “Mother told me to obey the laws. Without them we would be like the animals we eat, or like the wild beasts in the forest. We would become like the traitors.”

  “I didn’t realize you were even weaker than words. If I’d known from the beginning, I wouldn’t have run from you—I would have spoken to you right then.”

  “I’m not afraid of any words,” it said angrily.

  “Then why do you mention a law?”

  “I told you—I’m not afraid. Look—I’m gathering your bones now. I’ll go to the lake and reach a place where the island can’t be seen.”

  “That’s what you should do.”

  “But if you’re lying to me, I’ll erase you at once.”

  “And if I’m telling the truth, then I want something in return from you. Agreed?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want your shadow.”

  “I… I don’t know if I can…”

  “You can—or there is no deal. I want your shadow. Otherwise you can devour me now and vanish again until something draws you back to the surface of the island.”

  “Fine… then I’ll give you a little of my shadow. I can’t give you all of it, or I’ll be left alone.”

  “You’ll make other friends—I promise you that. It will be difficult at first, but you’ll have to trust me. I’ll heal you, or I’ll die trying.”

  “All right. I’m going toward the lake now. Soon we’ll be in the water. I’ve gathered everything left of your body.”

  I did not know what might happen—whether we would meet the stag, whether it could help the child. But I hoped. Not for myself—I was probably already finished—but for the child who had lost its mother and its mind. Logic would say I had nothing to lose by trying; my body was already ruined and I did not even know in what state I survived. That would not be a lie.

  Yet another feeling ruled me now. I wanted to free the child before me—the one who refused to weep.

  All the while we spoke, its face revealed every impulse to laugh and hid every pang of sorrow. It tried not to show weakness, but I sensed it longed for someone to take it in their arms, speak gentle words, stroke its head, and calm it. I knew this because I would have wanted the same in its place. I would have wanted to break down, to show weakness, to express my pain.

  I had no better idea. Once again I surrendered to the current of life, carried along by its flow. The crucial difference was that I no longer felt the same fear; something inside me told me I was doing the right thing.

  Suddenly the veil that enclosed us both collapsed like torn paper, and the child fell into the lake water along with my bones.

  The black of the shadow spread across the surface. The family heads immediately surrounded the child but kept their distance from the spreading darkness.

  The child began to weep and tried to wade back toward the shore, but they would not let it approach. Then it started to shout:

  “You lied to me! You lied! I’ll kill you and all the others! You lied to me!”

  The council members shouted for it to be quiet, but Rigas had already nocked an arrow and aimed at the child—ready to loose at the slightest dangerous movement.

  And I—I was still watching from the same place as before. Only now I could feel movement. I was in the air, surrounded by light, and I heard a very faint sound in my ears—extremely faint.

  One of the fireflies that illuminated the lake passed before me, making the same soft noise with its wings. I turned my body and saw Kalli with Stas beside her. Only she was looking at me. I rushed toward her; she raised her hand, opened her palm, and I landed gently upon it.

  “Leo, you’re here, aren’t you?” she asked.

  I could not speak, so I gave a joyful little hop on her palm.

  “Run across the lake and search. Quickly—before they kill the child. Try to save it. I’ll try to delay them, but I don’t know how long I can manage.”

  She gave me a soft kiss and blew gently, imparting both momentum and encouragement.

  I flew as fast as I could toward the place where I had first seen the stag and it had helped me. And once again I was either fortunate or once more receiving aid I did not deserve. The stag had just emerged from the forest and was lowering its head to drink from the lake. All the fireflies gathered around it, and the moment its mouth touched the water, everything went dark.

  The ground beneath me felt solid—like stone—but I could not see its shape. Around me many people gazed in awe. My body had returned—or at least it felt that way. I could see my hands, my legs, yet something was not quite right.

  Then I raised my eyes. A sound rose from the crowd around me—a collective gasp of wonder pierced my senses. A man—tall, brown-haired, crowned with pure gold, clad in a purple mantle that caught the darkness and turned it to light, his golden-embroidered robes, leather boots and gloves bearing the emblem of the stag—approached us.

  With every step he took, white cracks appeared and a sound like shattering black filled the air. Yet it did not frighten me; nothing in this moment frightened me. And those cracks were not random—they took the shape of stars. The world broke at his passage and was adorned with every footfall.

  His left hand rested on the hilt of his sword—golden, set with a red diamond at the pommel, a blue at one quillon, a green at the other. His right hand remained hidden beneath the mantle; I glimpsed it only now and then. He came among us. Everyone stepped aside to let him pass; no one dared touch him.

  He stopped. Now not even the sound of breathing could exist in his presence. I felt my breath had been stolen; tears welled in my eyes of their own accord.

  All around me—men, women, children—bowed to him, reaching out at least to brush the hem of his garment, to feel a little of his warmth, yet none dared truly touch him.

  Then he himself stretched out his hands—without looking at anyone—and stroked one head after another. At once the crowd surged forward—not violently, not pressing—but pressing close to absorb his presence and his light.

  I was carried along with them, caught in the throng, and reached out my hand to touch him. Ah, how warm he was, how serene, how beautiful the sensation of his nearness. I forgot how I had come here; I ceased to think or fear. I could live forever in this feeling, I thought.

  And then he turned and looked straight into my eyes—only mine, no one else’s. The sound around us still did not exist, though everyone seemed to be making noise even with their slightest movements.

  Instinctively I stepped back, tried to hide among the other bodies, but nothing could conceal me from his gaze.

  “It is not yet your time. You have not finished the work for which you came here.”

  I lowered my eyes and did not dare speak to him.

  “If you touch me, you will never leave this place. Back on the island people are still waiting for you. And after the island you have many other duties yet to fulfill. I hope you prove worthy of your mission. But for now—go back, and be good.”

  Everything darkened again, and water began to pour around me. I could not tell whether I was in space or not, yet it streamed from every direction, centered on me. Very quickly it flooded everything and I began to sink beneath it. The moment I realized—when my senses returned to normal function, first in panic and then with the single aim of reaching the surface—I thrashed with all my strength.

  And at last I broke through the water.

  Darkness everywhere. I turned my head and saw the lights of the island behind me. My body had returned exactly where the child had dropped my bones into the lake.