The three of them sat under a garden tree on a bright day, and it seemed like there wasn’t much to do.
Wendell looked over. It seemed so strange to be friends with Violet now, as if nothing had ever happened. It was like all the horrible things they had said were not even a dream. But the strange ancient secrets they shared now had brought them all together, as if they had known each other forever.
“We have to tell someone that the old songs were true,” Wendell said. “Your father would want us to tell him something so important!”
Karen suddenly looked up at him, twisting some grass blades together in her hands anxiously.
“Who’s even going to believe that? Some children with a crazy story like that?”
“Ren Zael told me not to keep anything a secret. He said it was very important! Otherwise everything will be forgotten again! That’s what matters!”
Violet smiled a little.
“Maybe we should go tell that crazy storyteller! He’s always talking about crazy, impossible things.”
“He’s not really crazy!” Wendell said. “Well, not that much, anyways.”
Then they laughed, and felt that things might be more serious, and more fun, and more important, and more mysterious than all the wishes they had used to hope for before.