I had not dressed yet. I was still wearing the t-shirt and panties that I had slept in. Marc was wearing a UCLA sweatshirt and a pair of gym shorts.I ...ntered the room, cleared my throat, and announced, “Marc, I need to talk with you about something.”“This sounds serious. What’s up?”“Well, you know how much I hate lying?”“Yeah, what do you think I lied about?” he asked defensively.I sighed, “Not you…me. And I hope you won’t be too mad.”I paused to gauge his reaction.Marc, closed his computer,. She groaned. But he didn't notice, the firedancer didn't, where he shuffled down the dock with his wounded hand wrapped with a bloodstained cloth and his head looking as blue and black as if he had fallen into an argument with a particularly ink-happy squid. I almost felt sorry for him. Then I remembered the red-dressed firedancers of my youth, how they had marched into our village, and the evil they had committed before the Giants had arrived. And I knew that this man must have followed me all. More

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