“Sir,” he said as you pulled him along, “how can there be sickness in the water? The forest protects us from sickness.” He did not add, There’s only the forest between us and the Tel. “I don’t know,” you said. And then, when you were nearly to the door of the tower, he asked, “How do you keep from crying?” He’d begun weeping again. “I don’t always,” you admitted. “Sometimes you can’t.” “Oh,” said the boy.
