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“Walter’s funeral。”
I tried to sit up； but my body was all rubbery。 Ian’s hand moved to my forehead； holding me down。
I twisted my head under his hand； trying to see…
I was outside。
Outside。
On my left； a rough； tumbled pile of boulders formed a miniature mountain； plete with scrubby
brush。 On my right； the desert plain stretched away from me； disappearing in the darkness。 I looked
down past my feet； and I could see the huddle of humans； ill at ease in the open air。 I knew just how they
felt。 Exposed。
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。
“Easy there；” he said。 “Don’t try to stand。”
“Help me；” I pleaded。
“Wanda？”
I heard Jamie’s voice； and then I saw him； his hair bobbing as he ran to where I was lying。
My fingertips traced the edges of the mat beneath me。 How did I get here； sleeping under the stars？
“They didn’t wait；” Jamie said to Ian。 “It will be over soon。”
“Help me up；” I said。
Jamie reached for my hand； but Ian shook his head。 “I got her。”
Ian slid his arms under me； very careful to avoid the worst of the sore spots。 He pulled me up off the
ground； and my head spun like a ship about to capsize。 I groaned。
“What did Doc do to me？”
“He gave you a little of the leftover morphine； so that he could check you out without hurting you。 You
needed sleep anyway。”
I frowned； disapproving。 “Won’t someone else need the medicine more？”
“Shh；” he said； and I could hear a low voice in the distance。 I turned my head。
I could see the group of humans again。 They stood at the mouth of a low； dark； open space carved out
by the wind under the unstable…looking pile of boulders。 They stood in a ragged line； facing the shadowed
grotto。
I recognized Trudy’s voice。
“Walter always saw the bright side of things。 He could see the bright side of a black hole。 I’ll miss that。”
I saw a figure step forward； saw the gray…and…black braid swing as she moved； and watched Trudy toss
a handful of something into the darkness。 Sand scattered from her fingers； falling to the ground with a faint
hiss。
She went back to stand beside her husband。 Geoffrey moved away from her； stepped forward toward
the black space。
“He’ll find his Gladys now。 He’s happier where he is。” Geoffrey threw his handful of dirt。
Ian carried me to the right side of the line of people； close enough to see into the murky grotto。 There
was a darker space on the ground in front of us； a big oblong around which the entire human population
stood in a loose half circle。
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。
Kyle stepped forward。
I trembled； and Ian squeezed me gently。
Kyle did not look in our direction。 I saw his face in profile； his right eye was nearly swollen shut。
“Walter died human；” Kyle said。 “None of us can ask for more than that。” He threw a fistful of dirt into
the dark shape on the ground。
Kyle rejoined the group。
Jared stood beside him。 He took the short walk and stopped at the edge of Walter’s grave。
“Walter was good through and through。 Not one of us is his equal。” He threw his sand。
Jamie walked forward； and Jared patted his shoulder once as they passed each other。
“Walter was brave；” Jamie said。 “He wasn’t afraid to die； he wasn’t afraid to live； and… he wasn’t
afraid tobelieve。 He made his own decisions； and he made good ones。” Jamie threw his handful。 He
turned and walked back； his eyes locked on mine the whole way。
“Your turn；” he whispered when he was at my side。
Andy was already moving forward； a shovel in his hands。
“Wait；” Jamie said in a low voice that carried in the silence。 “Wanda and Ian haven’t said anything。”
There was an unhappy mutter around me。 My brain felt like it was pitching and heaving inside my skull。
“Let’s have some respect；” Jeb said； louder than Jamie。 It felt too loud to me。
My first instinct was to wave Andy ahead and make Ian carry me away。 This was human mourning； not
mine。
But I did mourn。 And I did have something to say。
“Ian； help me get some sand。”
Ian crouched down so I could scoop up a handful of the loose rocks at our feet。 He rested my weight on
his knee to get his own share of dirt。 Then he straightened and carried me to the edge of the grave。
I couldn’t see into the hole。 It was dark under the overhang of rock； and the grave seemed to be very
deep。
Ian began speaking before I could。
“Walter was the best and brightest of what is human；” he said； and scattered his sand into the hole。 It fell
for a long time before I heard it hiss against the bottom。
It was absolutely silent in the starlit night。 Even the wind was calm。 I whispered； but I knew my voice
carried to everyone。
“There was no hatred in your heart；” I whispered。 “That you existed is proof that we were wrong。 We
had no right to take your world from you； Walter。 I hope your fairytales are true。 I hope you find your
Gladdie。”
I let the rocks trickle through my fingers and waited until I heard them fall with a soft patter onto
Walter’s body； obscured in the deep； dark grave。
Andy started to work as soon as Ian took the first step back； shoveling from a mound of pale； dusty
earth that was piled a few feet farther into the grotto。 The shovel load hit with a thump rather than a
whisper。 The sound made me cringe。
Aaron stepped past us with another shovel。 Ian turned slowly and carried me away to make room for
them。 The heavy thuds of falling dirt echoed behind us。 Low voices began to murmur。 I heard footsteps
as people milled and huddled to discuss the funeral。
I really looked at Ian for the first time as he walked back to the dark mat where it lay on the open
dirt—out of place； not belonging。 Ian’s face was streaked with pale dust； his expression weary。 I’d seen
his face like that before。 I couldn’t pinpoint the memory before Ian had laid me on the mat again； and I
was distracted。 What was I supposed to do out here in the open？ Sleep？ Doc was right behind us； he
and Ian both knelt down in the dust beside me。
“How are you feeling？” Doc asked； already prodding at my side。
I wanted to sit up； but Ian pressed my shoulder down when I tried。
“I’m fine。 I think maybe I could walk…”
“No need to push it。 Let’s give that leg a few days； okay？” Doc pulled my left eyelid up； absentminded；
and shone a tiny beam of light into it。 My right eye saw the bright reflection that danced across his face。
He squinted away from the light； recoiling a few inches。 Ian’s hand on my shoulder didn’t flinch。 That
surprised me。
“Hmm。 That doesn’t help a diagnosis； does it？ How does your head feel？” Doc asked。
“A little dizzy。 I think it’s the drugs you gave me； though； not the wound。 I don’t like them—I’d rather
feel the pain； I think。”
Doc grimaced。 So did Ian。
“What？” I demanded。
“I’m going to have to put you under again； Wanda。 I’m sorry。”
“But… why？” I whispered。 “I’m really not that hurt。 I don’t want —”
“We have to take you back inside；�