yleanerhallwayinst.mungo’s.orheouldgofight,makesomeonepay,makethemhurt.hehadhiswandbak,afterall.

andhewasdonefeelinghelpless.

chapter31

drao

one,whendraowassevenyearsold,whenhewassmandsrawnyandstillhadn’tlearnedhowtousethepowersittingrightbehhisskin,hehadwalkedtotheedgeofhisneighbor’spondandwalkedrightalongtheedge,toesskimmingthesurfaeofthemudandmuklikeitwassomesortofgame.hismotherhadtoldhimnottogoinitbeauseitwasdirty,andhisfathersaidthatitwasgerous,justasderelitandiedastheneighbor’shousewas,butdraohadthoughtthatitwouldbefuntogotoaforbiddenpejustone.anditwasfun,untilhesteppedforwardontothebankjustabittoofar,entranedbythewaveoftheotherwisestillwaterthatwasonlythebekoningofagrindylowandtoppledin.

heouldnotswim.

itwasstrange,inthatmoment,beausehewasthinkingofallthethingsthatheoulddo,allthepeoplethathisfatherhadpaidtoteahhim—thelineageofoldhouses,violin,alligraphy,ing—andyetnowthathewasinimmediateger,heouldnotfigureouthowtomovehisarmsorkikoutwithhislegswellenoughtobringhimselfbaktothesurfae.therewasonlydarknessupallthelightandweedsbrushingathisheelsandthedesperationbuildingupinsidehim,wherehewouldkikupoffthemurkybottomofthepondandburstintothelightjustlongenoughforonelifegivingbreathofairbeforethedepthspulledhimbakdownunderagain.

tryingtowakeupwassomethinglikethat.