Chapter 21
Aunt May, it turned out, owned a fiddle. From deep within one of the tents, Carly rooted out a pile of semi-presentable clothes.
Michael slipped away to brush his hair, making me smile at the evidence that teenage boys were just as vain as the female of the species. Then he attached himself to his niece with the intense focus of someone given the first important task of incipient adulthood.
The rest of us gathered materials to build up a bonfire. And while it should have felt strange to work alongside skinless, they seemed to understand what I wanted before I even asked for it. Dry branches appeared at my feet along with a handful of crumpled-up newspaper. The stone fire circle expanded itself while my back was turned. And when Victor lit a match, the mood of the campsite tra
