AN: Nope, nothing t'say, apart from to enjoy.

Disclaimer: "…nothing to say? That was pitiful."---Bass

Disclaimer Num. 2: "Nothing to say? That was a miracle."---AC

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,

On a white heal-all, holding up a moth

Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth---

Assorted characters of death and blight

Mixed ready to begin the morning right,

Like the ingredients of a witches' broth---

A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,

And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,

The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?

What brought the kindred spider to that height,

Then steered the white moth hither in the night?

What but design of darkness to appall?---

If design govern in a thing so small.

Design, by Robert Frost

Chapter Eight:

Paper Wings

"Oy, Luna!"

"What?"

"Here's an interesting group of footprints…hoof prints, more like it."

Luna was by Lunatic's side in a shot. "Where?"

The sage-green maren hovered lower, gesturing at the churned mud that lay below them. "Check out the scoop-shaped holes all over the place. Looks like a hoofed creature was here---heavy one, too."

"The Equs," Luna breathed, then jerked her head up. "Cor, Path, Dysdane! This way!"

"What'd you find?" queried the scout, Apathy following close behind. Dysdane was making her way through some heavier vegetation, and reached them moments later looking quite irritated.

"Blasted vines---don't try flying any further ahead. It's a maze of limbs."

"Look." Luna gestured down to where Lunatic had landed on the muddy floor, getting a closer look at the markings. "Fringe says that those are hoof marks."

"Fringe is right." Dysdane dropped next to him. "Any nightmaren markings?"

"Yes." Lunatic pointed carelessly at the shallow indentations that went off ahead of them. "Two people, I'd judge. Looks like we found where they met up with it."

"Mm-hm."

Luna looked around and shivered slightly, brushing quickly at her eyes; behind her, Corbeau put a gentle hand on her shoulder. She gave him a watery glance.

Lunatic straightened and looked back at the sparring instructor and scout. "Well, let's follow them."

"M'kay." Luna wiped her eyes once more and resolutely followed after him.

The tracks were fairly easy to follow, despite the fact that they often dipped into water or liquid mud; broken limbs and hardened dirt showed the path. Soon they came upon a wide circle of markings, as if a struggle had taken place; the hooves circled wide, and one pair of footsteps suddenly came from some distance away, as if the owner had been tossed far. The other pair and the hooves headed off into the swamp once more, and the abandoned pair followed. The trackers did as well.

Picking her way through the swampy floor, Luna found herself feeling sick. A lethal struggle had happened here only a short time ago; her friend had died somewhere nearby. Had it been dark, she would have half-expected to see the faint, flitting form of Morgen's ghost following them, peering down with sightless eyes from the shelter of the trees, his wispy silver hair floating about his expressionless face in a white mist. She shuddered and swallowed.

Up ahead, Lunatic threw up a hand to signal for them to stop; he'd found something. The others gathered behind him.

They had reached the edges of a watery section of the swamp, where the mud was covered in a thin layer of green and mold-sheeted water. One or two dark patches lurked under the water's surface, denoting the dangerous holes that spotted the swamp. The footsteps led directly to one of them; one pair walked away, and the hooves cantered off in another direction. One pair did not re-appear from the edge.

They followed the trail silently, moving to the very edge of the black patch, where they gathered about it and stared into its inky mouth. Sodden water lapped at their ankles. Far off, a Hollow shrieked.

Luna sniffed then, and began crying. Corbeau silently put a hand about her shoulder and allowed her to weep into his chest, her hands over her face to block out the sight of the awful, gaping hole that had extinguished her friend's life. The others waited patiently, every now and then finding themselves gazing in morbid fascination at the black blotch that marred the olive surface of the water.

Finally Luna sniffled and stood on her own, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Cummon…we need to follow that beast. We have to see if there's more."

"Is that wise?" questioned Apathy quietly.

"Maybe not, but the Ideya I care," snarled Luna. "It's the least we owe him."

Corbeau and Dysdane exchanged glances; Lunatic shrugged, arms folded. "Why not. We owe it to him. And Lord Reala would probably want us to do it anyway."

"Yeah." Luna gripped her lance fiercely. "Come on."

Silently, they began following the hoof prints, Luna leading the way.

Chaotica was working hard, muscles tightening as she pounded dough for meat pies. Slowly the ball of dough spread out, and soon she was deftly cutting away circles and filling them, hands flipping each pie and swiftly sealing it shut. She worked silently, humming from time to time.

"Chaotica?"

She looked up briefly from her folding and forming. "What?"

A younger nightmaren had come up to her; Chaotica recognized her as one of the newer gatherers. The girl was quiet and mild, but she seemed intelligent enough, and she worked hard. Chaotica couldn't recall her name. "What is it?"

The girl held out a limp flower. Chaotica eyed it and then its holder. "What about it?"

She gestured to the flower in her hand. "It's white!"

"And?…"

"It's a heal-all!" The girl sounded frustrated. "It's not supposed to be white!"

"Oh." Chaotica bit her lip. "Well, I'm not very good with plant life…maybe it's an albino."

"No, all of them are like that!" She stamped her foot childishly. "They're supposed to be baby blue, but they're all white---something's wrong!"

"Something in the soil, then."

"They were blue several days ago!"

"They were?"

"I was there right before---you know---NiGHTS left. And they were blue." She stamped her foot again. "There's something wrong with them!"

Chaotica sighed and bent over her pastries again. "Okay, so there's something wrong with them."

"Why aren't you upset?!"

"Because it's a flower. Several flowers."

"It's not just the flowers!" She seemed close to tears. "It's everything! NiGHTS went crazy, and then the whole land rippled! Haven't you felt it? The Dream World's coming apart!"

Chaotica straightened, eyes half-closed. 'Why did I have to get the loony?'

Turning, she placed her flour-dusted hands on the girl's shoulders. "Listen, whoever you are, calm down. You're acting like the sky's gonna fall. So the flowers are acting strange, so Lord NiGHTS lost it. We're still here, and we're gonna stay here. Calm down!"

"You don't believe me," whispered the girl heart-brokenly.

"No, I don't." Chaotica turned away. "Now why don't you go help out Keric or someone."

The girl was silent. Finally, she placed the flower on the counter, her voice soft. "Okay. But you'll see. You'll all see." Chaotica could hear her soft footsteps move away.

She looked down at the forlorn, wilted flower lying on the counter-top, small and bright beside the rows of pale meat pies. Black markings on the pure white petals made her bend closer to examine them, almost without knowing why.

They looked remarkably like a skull.

Lunatic wrinkled his nose. The Equs' tracks led through the swamp in a fairly straight line, weaving around thicker groves of twisted trees and stunted growth, sometimes disappearing into pools of murky water to re-appear on the farther side. The thick, muggy stench of the bog was becoming unbearable.

Ahead of him, Apathy halted and held his head high, sniffing the air. Corbeau come nearer. "What is it?"

"Getting fresher. It'll dry up soon."

"Thank goodness," muttered Luna. "I'm about to suffocate."

Dysdane swept past them, hovering just above the mud and mold that coated everything in a slimy cover. Peering ahead, she nodded. "The trees open up further along. Come."

They followed her; soon, the twisted limbs and knotty clumps of hanging moss over their heads grew less thick, and the ground became firmer and less treacherous. Light dappled down more brightly and made the murky water appear more clean.

Lunatic jumped into a deeper puddle of water, creating a splash that echoed throughout the silent swamp. Luna grabbed his shoulder. "What was that? You'll bring down who knows what on us!"

"So?"

She groaned and shoved him away, thrusting a hand through her tangled hair. "Oh, shut up."

Lunatic gazed after her, his usual expression of uncaring penetrated by surprise. Corbeau touched his shoulder gently. "Don't provoke her," he whispered. "She's not steady right now."

Lunatic shrugged and glided after the sparring instructor.

Apathy, ignoring the miniature outburst of bad tempers behind him, glided noiselessly into what seemed to be a clearing; as he came to it, he realized that the water at their feet was becoming more shallow. They'd reached the edge of the swamp.

The hoof-prints led away from the edges of the swamp and on into the deeper reaches of the forest, heading towards the western caves. Luna paused and leaned on her lance. "Think it's living in the caves?"

Apathy halted behind her, waiting until she'd taken a breath and moved on. "That's possible."

Corbeau nodded. "The golgoth may have come from there, too. The Hunters stopped patrolling them at least two centuries ago…perhaps there are still a few of the dreambeasts left."

"A few left?" Dysdane stepped carefully over a fallen log. "How can you miss something the size of Clawz?"

"I have no idea," returned Corbeau wryly, "but apparently the Hunters managed to."

There was silence for a moment as they made their quiet way through the forest. Finally Luna spoke. "I'm going to have a word with Miss Calysta when we get back," she muttered. "I'm going to say, 'How the Ideya did you manage to not see an ancient dreambeast right in front of you?' "

"The same way you managed to walk right up to a herd of Equs without realizing it," replied Lunatic sourly.

Luna jerked her head up at him, irritated that he was still carrying a grudge over her bad temper earlier. "What in the name of nightmares do you---"

She halted, gazing at the herd of Equs that was gathered in a thicket of birch only a few yards in front of them. "…shards."

Nightmaren and Equs stared at each other. There were at least forty of the centaur-like creatures, all of them lying peacefully or smoking the queer short-necked pipes they loved so well. The smoke was thick and dense, and it mingled with the smoke trailing from the horns of the rams' heads that sprouted from their chests; a small cloud of fog had built up within the birches' branches.

In another moment, the entire herd was up and charging at them.

Corbeau wheeled around and took to the air, thankful that the overgrown limbs were clearer here. "Head for higher ground!"

The other nightmaren followed him up into the air, weaving their way through the branches, the sounds of the Equs' hooves pounding behind them. With a gasp Corbeau broke through the shelter of leaves, and as the others came next to him he turned and headed back the way they'd come, knowing better than to continue on either side where the forest would open into plains where the Equs would be able to truly use their speed. He called into the wind as he flew. "Stick close, hopefully we'll lose them in the swamp!"

Dysdane looked down, able to make out the blurred forms of the galloping Equs below them. The creatures were having some difficulty evading fallen logs and tree trunks while maintaining the speed they needed to follow the flying nightmaren; with some luck, Corbeau would be right.

"Stupid creatures," she muttered.

"What the Ideya?"

Chank looked up at his brother. "What?"

"Look, over beyond Soft Museum."

Chank stood and shaded his eyes, gazing out northwest towards where Soft Museum, a stunning European garden, lay. He narrowed his eyes and focused. "The sky---"

"Yeah." Chink perched on the battlements, still staring out across to the forested hills beyond. "I've never seen it that color before, not at this time of day. Whatever's wrong?"

"I don't know." He pursed his lips, evaluating the odd swirl of lavender and---was that a hint of green?---that tinted the western sky over the hills beyond Soft Museum; his mind was scanning all of the odd skies he'd seen before, trying to find a match. "I don't believe I've ever seen it like that at any time of day. Is that a tinge of green?"

"I believe so." Chink fingered the pommel of his sword thoughtfully. "Perhaps we're in for another storm…"

"No, I don't believe so." Chank sniffed the air, shaking his head. His shaggy green hair drifted to stillness around his eyes. "There's no change in the air."

"Perhaps it's an after-effect of that storm we had a few days back."

"Yes, perhaps it is."

"Lord Reala?"

The general looked up distractedly from the book he was studying. "What?"

"Oh, nothing, just surprised to see you here." Jackle grinned cheerfully, swinging his feet back and forth from the seat of the great plush chair he was plopped on. His legs were spread wide, and he was laying back sloppily; for some reason, he reminded Reala of a child.

He looked back down at his book, ignoring the demi-maren; Jackle giggled. Reala looked up once more. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," tittered Jackle. "I've just got such funny voices in my head…"

Reala stared at him for a moment before focusing back on the page before him. Jackle, after a moment, hovered near to peer over his shoulder. "What'cha readin'?"

"Nothing that concerns you," snapped Reala, slightly unsettled despite himself. "Now back off!"

"No need to get so pushy, boss," whined Jackle, drifting back a bit. After a moment he brightened again. "I've been reading too, see?"

"I don't CARE if you---" He stopped and evaluated the book the demi-maren held out more closely. "What's that? It's not in Dreamin."

" 'Course it's not, stupid!" laughed Jackle. "It's in Latin! All uctus and onus and oro!"

"Uctus and onus and oro?" repeated Reala, giving the book another close stare. "What of nightmares---"

"That's what they put on the end of their words, y'know!" explained Jackle. "It's considered a high old way of speaking."

"By who?"

"The dreamers, of course! They think it all high and mighty---personally, I think people who talk in it sound like their jaws are too loose, but then, that's just me…"

"You can understand this?"

" 'Course! Wouldn't readin' it if I couldn't---I know a lot of languages!"

Reala took the book from the demi-maren's hands, staring down at the dusty leaves and beginning to page through them slowly. A word, 'Intu', caught his eye.

"They speak of dreambeasts?"

"Only a bit---this's some dreamer's diary here. Shouldn't really be here, actually, should be---mm." He closed his mouth with a snap.

Reala prodded him on. "Should be…?"

In reply, Jackle pressed a gloved finger to his lips, shaking his head. Reala narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't say it, you mustn't say it---you mustn't ask, you know. Master doesn't like it, no, not at all…"

"What of nightmares are you babbling about?"

"No, don't ask us, boss, isn't right to know!"

"Us?"

"Yes, the voices an' I. Isn't right for us to tell!"

Reala pulled back a step, giving Jackle a strange look. The demi-maren was hunched over slightly, his eyes childishly wide, their depths lit from within by a strange knowing look. He moved his head from side to side slowly. "No, we're not allowed to tell," he whispered. "Aren't we?"

He paused, then answered someone that did not speak. "Yes, that's what I'm trying to tell him, of course! Fool doesn't know---none of them know!"

Reala abruptly leaned forward and slapped him.

Jackle jerked back, one hand flying to his face, his eyes lowering like a kicked puppy. "What was that for?" he whined. "We were bein' good, boss, honest we was!"

'Great, now he's slipping even deeper!' Reala reached for him, making the demi-maren pull back in fear. He ignored Jackle's pleading eyes and grabbed his shoulders to give him a rough shake. "Jackle, snap out of it!"

"Outta wh-what?" stammered his companion, eyes wide in fear. "Outta what, master, 're not in anythin', prom'se we wan't, prom'se!"

"Oh, shut up and follow me!" Reala turned away and stormed through the shelves, pausing at the Library door to gesture bad-temperedly. "Well, come on!"

Jackle followed after him, whimpering.

"Can you see them?"

Lunatic slowed and then halted, glancing back from the way they'd come. "No."

"Thank goodness. Still, better not to go to the ground yet---might run into something else unsavory." Corbeau turned to face east once more. "Right, onwards to Nightmare Castle."

"That was certainly unexpected," commented Luna as they started off once more, this time far slower than the desperate flight they'd held earlier. "There were at least seventy of them!"

"I'd say more around forty to fifty," commented Dysdane dryly. "You always exaggerate, Luna."

The sparring instructor gave her a dirty glance, but was too busy contemplating the possible outcomes of their find to bother with verbal sniping. "At least forty, then…ye maren! Why didn't we see them sooner?"

"My question is, how the Ideya did we suddenly acquire forty Equs in the western forests?" put in Corbeau dryly. "You'd think that the Hunters would have noticed an entire herd."

"Perhaps they were only two at one time," inserted Apathy quietly. Luna grimaced.

"Well, I suppose that's feasible…but still. Forty of them, and we haven't seen one until now? You know that's not right, Path. Two golgoths, a HERD of Equs, all in Mystic Forest and beyond---someone would have noticed them before now! Nightmaren wander through there every single day!"

"The caves may be the answer," said Corbeau thoughtfully. "The young ones stay to the more cultivated areas, and we haven't had any of the older ones out beyond the borders for some time…perhaps a few of the dreambeasts have managed to survive this far in the caves, and now some incident we don't yet know about has brought them out again…"

"Maybe." Luna frowned doubtfully. "But if we've managed to suddenly find a herd of Equs, who knows what else out there we haven't purged yet? There could be a colony of Lemrens out there, for all we know!"

"Let's hope not. The last thing I want to see when we get out of this forest is a Lemren wandering through Soft Museum."

Below them, the trees thinned out, signaling the end of Mystic Forest; as a subconscious reaction to Lunatic's last words, they all glanced towards Soft Museum and the hilly forests beyond.

"…is it just myself, or is the sky a bit green?" asked Corbeau.

Reala shoved the demi-maren inside, closing the great stone doors behind them. "Lord Wizeman, forgive me for intruding, but I've found something interesting…"

Jackle bit back another whimper as several hands floated down about them, the eyes in their palms wide and focused. "What is it, Reala?"

"Jackle, it seems, can read several languages other than Dreamin."

The eyes abruptly focused on the trembling demi-maren alone. Jackle winced when Wizeman's voice floated down to them, slow and thoughtful. "Does he…"

"He can read a dreamer's language called Latin," explained Reala, waving the dusty book Jackle had been reading. "He said he could read a few others, as well."

"I see." The hands moved closer, creating a stone wall about the two. "How did you learn to do this, Jackle?"

"P-practice, master," stammered Jackle. "S-several books about it in the Library…"

"I see." The hands, to Jackle's relief, pulled away slightly as their master seemed to think. "Tell me, Jackle---can you read this?"

Jackle stared up, wide-eyed, at the hand that drifted down to hover near him, a book held above its eye; he took it up with trembling hands, licking his dry lips quickly, but then relaxed when he saw the stocky writing inside. "Oh, sure. Old English."

"You can read it?" Had he been looking up at the eyes around him, he would have seen that they were watching his face closely for an answer.

"Of course---Old English is easy! Well, except for when they come up with their own spellings…then you hafta sound it out more than read it." He was already flipping through the worn pages as he spoke, and soon began reading aloud. " 'Most peculiar dreams have I been posied---posied?---no, possessed---with of late. All manner of beets---'scuse me, beasts---and foul demons do purse and cut---how the Ideya do you purse and cut someone?---no, persecute! Persecute me…demons with large eyes and shinning skin---I think he meant shining---or she---whoever this is---laughing hore-if-bly?----laughing horribly, I think---"

"Jackle."

The demi-maren started, nearly dropping the book. "Yes?"

"Listen closely." The hand that had given him the book pulled upright, the eye in its center showing a picture. The place depicted within Jackle knew quite well.

"The forbidden books," he breathed. Reala started as he began sobbing. "No, no, master, I haven't gone in, promise I haven't! I promise, master, I haven't even gone NEAR---"

"I know, Jackle." Wizeman cut him off. "But I want you to go in."

This made the demi-maren pause mid-sob. "Want me to go in, master?"

"Yes. I want you to go in, and begin searching for any information you may find on the problems we have been having lately."

"What problems, master?"

"The appearance of dreambeasts, Jackle."

"Oh yeah, them." Jackle paused, then grinned giddily. "Y'mean I get to go in there again?"

"Yes. Search as long and as hard as is possible."

"Yessir, boss! …can I start now?"

"You are dismissed." One of the hands waved him away. Jackle turned and bounded out happily.

Reala watched him leave, and then turned to confide in his master. "I think he's completely lost it."

One of the great eyes blinked slowly at him. "Really?"

"Yes. He was acting absolutely loony in the Library."

"Perhaps you're right. But he will serve his purpose either way."

The hands pulled away, signaling that the session was ended. Reala bowed once. "Am I dismissed, my lord?"

"You are."

"Thank you, my lord." Turning, Reala left.

It was only once he was out the door and heading for his room that he realized he'd forgotten to give Jackle his Latin book back.

"Oy, Chink, it's us!"

"Chank," replied the green-haired maren quietly as he pulled back to allow the five maren to land on the wall top. His brother, blinking eyes that were cornered by small black curls that denoted him as Chink, stirred from where he was sitting and joined him.

"Sorry," puffed Luna, grasping her side. "Couldn't tell from that distance…"

"That's not what's important right now." Corbeau bowed quickly to the two brothers. "We need to speak to Lord Reala, so if you'll excuse us…"

"Of course." They both stepped out of his way; Chink eyed Dysdane, knowing she was the least emotional of the group and thus the best to ask a tender question. "Was your search---successful?"

"Obviously not!" shouted Luna, storming down the steps. Corbeau flashed the brothers an apologetic smile before coasting down after her, calling conciliatory words. Dysdane returned Chink's gaze coolly.

"If you mean, did we find him, no. If you mean, did we find evidence that he's really gone, yes."

Chink nodded quietly and bowed to her, giving her space to move on. She did so regally, and Lunatic and Apathy followed.

Behind them, the brothers exchanged silent gazes.

Luna pushed open the door to the room she used for sparring training, scanning quickly over the few young maren who were apparently practicing on their own. "Anyone here seen Lord Reala?"

"I've seen him, ma'am."

"Heckler? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just hanging about." He leaped down off of the training manikin he'd been perched on and strode over. "You look tired. Shall I take a message to him for you?"

Luna was too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to even wonder why Heckler was being respectful for once. "I---yes, actually, that would be nice." She swallowed. "Tell him that five of us, Dysdane, Apathy, Lunatic, Corbeau and myself, went out west beyond Mystic Forest to---to look for Morgen. We ran into a herd of at least forty Equs, and were chased back; halfway along we lost them, and continued home to report. Tell him that."

Heckler took a deep breath and bowed quickly, his eyebrows raised in surprise; to his credit he did not stay and ask questions, but hurried off as he'd promised. Luna, with a sigh, sank down against a training manikin. The students rushed over.

"Miss Luna, are you all right?" Aster touched her arm in dismay. Luna managed a smile.

"Yes, Aster, I'm fine…just tired. Very tired." She brushed a hand over her eyes. Aster sat down next to her, and several soft voices posed questions.

"Are they right, Miss Luna?"

"Are the rumors right?

"Is it true, Miss Luna?"

Luna sighed. "Is what true?"

"The rumors about---" Aster choked. "About Morgen. Is he really gone?"

Luna closed her eyes, feeling pain well up in her chest. "Yes, Aster. I'm afraid he is."

The girl's open eye unexpectedly spilled over with tears, the beads of water dripping down her face and beginning to trickle down her chin. She drew her legs up to her chest and huddled over them. "That's not…fair…" she sniffed.

Luna stared straight ahead. "I know it isn't."

"But why him?"

"Because he was a fool."

"A fool? He died because he was a fool?"

Luna softened, her anger fading away as she realized how harsh her words must have sounded to the younger nightmaren around her. "No, Aster. He died because he wanted to help someone."

Aster's own voice suddenly turned bitter. "How's that any better? He's still dead! He didn't get anywhere! He's just dead! How's that any better?"

"…I don't know."

"It isn't!" She slammed her fist against the ground. "It isn't any better and it isn't fair! Nothing is!" She brushed angrily at the bandage covering her eye. "It's all wrong!"

"Hush, Aster."

"No! It's all wrong and I WON'T hush! It's all so wrong and NOBODY should have died, but Ernest and Morgen are dead and we nearly were and---"

She stopped as Luna pulled her close and began smoothing out her hair. "Hush, Aster. Just relax. You won't help anyone by yelling."

"You need to get it out somehow," muttered Starshine, another female student.

"Hush, just cry." Luna ignored Starshine's input and continued soothing Aster, beginning to rock gently back and forth. The half-blind girl began sobbing helplessly.

"It's just so stupid," she whimpered into Luna's neck. "It's all so stupid…what's the point if we can't even do anything about it but run?…"

"I don't know, but we won't be running any more." She brushed away a tangled strand of Aster's hair. "We'll fight back. We did it before, and we can do it again."

"Not if everything keeps on getting weird," muttered Aster.

"Come on, now. Remember Morgen's favorite saying? There's always pain, but there's always hope, too."

"Yeah, he lived by that, didn't he?" Aster glared up at her teacher. "Well, he's DEAD now!"

Luna swallowed, then lowered her voice. "Yes…and he was perfectly happy until it happened. Meanwhile you're refusing to hope, and you're miserable. What do you make out of that?"

Aster paused for a moment, silently playing with her hands. Finally she looked back up at her teacher. "That it's always better to hope, even---even when you're gonna die anyway?"

"Something like that, yes." She smiled and hugged her student gently. "Something like that."

"Mm-hm." Aster closed her good eye, and more tears began gathering at its rim. "But it still hurts even if you do hope."

"He didn't say there wouldn't be pain," whispered Luna. "It's all right to grieve, Aster."

"I know…that's what I'm doing." She buried her head in the instructor's lap again.

Luna moaned softly and bowed over the sobbing girl cradled next to her, still brushing her hair; her own tears were beginning to leave her eyes and drip down her face. Around them, the other students stood or sat silently, several of them crying. No one spoke.

Together, teacher and students mourned.