Wheeling Gull Isle do no harm

Leaving Stockholm with the children, Coelacanth emerged from her den and approached the dwelling where Titmouse lay, clinging grittily to life even as his lifeforce sputtered and dimmed like a dying ember. She was delighted to see Maegi there — she wished often that the pale ghost would visit the Labyrinth. “Small Maegi,” she breathed affectionately, her tail sketching a jubilant tattoo in the air. Poppy’s death and the unprompted arrival of Moonshadow had been particularly hard on the girl, and Seelie had been worried about her. It gave her hope to see the delicate smile that wreathed Maegi’s face — a face that the sheepdog found beautiful despite its ruin.

Being careful not to jostle or step on her friend, she circled around to the little fish who would soon celebrate her own Mitexi. If permitted, the Aralez would stretch to her full height — diminutive as it was — and preen lovingly at Maegi’s withers. The departure of Komodo, `Io, and Yakone would probably be a source of loneliness for her — at least, Seelie thought it might be — and her quivering nose was shyly attentive as she looked the girl over for signs of distress.