“Marigold?” I turned back to see Tristan sitting straight up, searching his jacket pockets. “What is it?” I called, trying not to shout too loudly, as though a sudden sound would startle the rocks around me. “I’ve lost something.” He looked over at me. I could barely see his face in the gloom, but his voice held a touch of panic. “A coin.” “A coin?” I repeated, baffled. “Yes, a shilling. It must have fallen out during the commotion. Can you see it?” “Do we not have more important things to worry about than lost change?” “It is not lost change.” His words were tight. Strained. “Please, do you
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