Sun Mote Copse It’s been a long day without you, my friend.

He urged her to take a seat. Meerkat glanced after her mother’s retreating figure, suddenly afraid she’d suffered another illness or injury. But she’d seemed fine. Meerkat’s eyes tracked back to Njord’s face and she did as he was told, swallowing thickly and trying to ignore her racing heart.

Her mouth went dry at his first few words. She feared the worst, though Njord quickly tacked on a critical detail: Swordfish was alive. She couldn’t help the way her heart leaped, despite the stricken look on his face. Not even his subsequent words could completely tarnish the golden warmth in her chest.

Fish is alive, she repeated, unable to help the joyful way she said it. He may not have recognized her, since they only met a few times when he was very young, Meerkat reasoned. It’s been—how long has it been, mo chride? Of course he’s a stranger. He disappeared when he was a hurt child, now he must be a man. Did she say where she found him?

Of course there was part of her that wanted to drop everything and rush to him. But Meerkat was stuck on one simple fact: Swordish was alive! He was out there somewhere, living his life. What that life looked like, she couldn’t say. And that hurt, more with every passing second, but she clung to the good new over the bad news with her whole heart.