Zebulun woke. Something was wrong. Someone was missing.
He sat up. Quinn was gone.
"He’s fine," said Sarah. She tended to the fire. "He ran off into the woods to play with the star folk."
"Is that safe?" asked Zebulun.
Sarah smiled. "That’s not the word I would use," she said, "but he’ll be fine. They’ll take care of him. They like him; he is like they are."
"How is that?"
"Playful and fearless."
"They really come from up there?" he asked, nodding up at the stars.
"That’s what they say. I have seen them fly up into the air. They often leave before dawn to spend the day at the top of the sky. They say the sun’s rays are far more intense up there. They live on sunlight."
"They speak to you?"
"They can imitate our speech," she said, "but it takes some effort on their part. They also have other, more subtle ways of communicating."
Zebulun stared up at the stars.
Sarah sat next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. She gazed at the stars with him. "The star folk tell me every star in the sky is a sun like our own. They are just impossibly far away, so they look like pinpoints of light. Their kind are born in the boundaries between stars and the void. The star’s crown, they call it."
Davion sat up, looking bleary-eyed and confused. "What’s going on?"
"Quinn ran away with the angels," said Sarah. "He should be back soon."
Just about then, Quinn wandered into the campsite. He was naked and dripping, steam rising from his body. He looked exhausted and happy.
Davion furrowed his brow. "Why are you naked?"
Quinn smiled at him with tired eyes. "A hundred fairies just made love to me."
"Oh," said Davion. "Wait. What?"
Quinn collapsed on his blanket and began to snore.