“How did you use other people’s eyes if you’re just like me?” Blue asked. “If you don’t have any psychic powers of your own.” Gwenllian’s mouth hung in the most dismissive shape possible. “This question! It is like asking how you can smash a nail if you are not a hammer.” “Whatever,” Blue said. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t really care.” “Artemus taught me,” Gwenllian said. “When he wasn’t working one-two-three-four my father. Here’s a riddle, my love, my love, my love, what grows, my love, my love, my love, from dark, my love, my love, my love, to dark, my love, my love, my love.”
