‘Back in your world,’ he said slowly, ‘you used to tell lots of stories, some to her and some to yourself.’ ‘How do you know that, Atreyu?’ ‘You said so yourself. In Amarganth. And you also said that people made fun of you for it.’ Bastian stared into the fire. ‘That’s true,’ he muttered. ‘I did say that. But I don’t know why. I can’t remember.’
