While Sam heated, shaped, and put the bell together, Lirael went to have a chat with Vannah. The woman might make her feel like she was still in a blue dress, but she would certainly know more than anyone else in the village. She tapped lightly on the wooded doorframe before pushing aside the hide that served as a curtain.

Vannah sat on the floor inside, staring intently at the door. "Well, come in the rest of the way! You're letting the cold in."

She did as she was bidden, and sat cross-legged in front of Vannah. "I have some questions for you."

"I didn't think you came for a cup of tea. Get on with it."

Lirael sighed, then took a deep breath, preparing herself to get this conversation over with as soon as possible.

"Where did Nordale come from?"

"Tried to talk to him, did you?" she mocked. "I suppose he told you that he didn't belong anywhere, that he was born in the sky. That's why most of the town thinks he's mad." Her ancient figure rocked with laughter. "What they don't know is that he's telling the truth."

'Wonderful, Lirael thought, 'she's senile.'

"I'm not either," she said in response to the unspoken thought, "I saw him come down with his mother in a paper falcon."

"Who was his mother? Is she still here?"

"You might say she is. It depends on how you think of your dead. Her name had something to do with air, and it had almost the same ending as yours."

"Arielle? Was her name Arielle?"

"Yes I do believe it was. Is she of some importance to you? Too bad if she is though, since, as I said, she's dead." But her words fell on deaf walls, for Lirael had already flown back through the door.

†††

It had been less than fifteen minutes since Nordale had left them by the stone. He couldn't have gotten far yet. Lirael ran haphazardly through the streets, narrowly dodging anyone foolish enough to wander into her path. Just at the edge of town, she caught a glimpse of him slipping, quite calmly, into the forest. A few more quick strides had her walking easily beside him. "You could have told me."

He met her with a glare that chilled her soul more than death ever had. "Told you what?"

"That you were my brother, of course!"

One foot stopped an inch above the thick blanket of snow. "She was your mother as well?"

"Of sorts. She left the Glacier before I turned five."

Nordale snorted. "She didn't even last that long here. I think it was the cold that finally got her. She passed into the river in my third winter."

"Oh." Though she'd known Arielle was dead for years, learning the cause of her demise made it that much worse. She decided to try another subject. "Where are you going?"

His answer was short, simple, and utterly devastating. "To her grave."

Lirael didn't know what it was that pulled her onward. Perhaps it was the need to know her mother had a peaceful resting place. Maybe she just needed to be certain that her body hadn't been chucked uncaringly into the snow. Whatever it was, it was satisfied when she saw the humble grave marker, adorned by three slender white flowers laying atop the snow. She bent to touch one. "What are these?"

"Snow lilies," he said, a new, caring note in his voice. "One of the few flowers that grow out here, and her favorite of those that do."

There could be no doubt who the 'her' was. Lirael continued to sit in the snow, fingertips grazing the last reminders of her lost parent. A jubilant shout tore her from her reverie, and she ran, tears stinging her eyes, back to the village.

†††

At the forge, Sam had finished recreating Yrael. The bell seemed to know that better than he did, as its form became fluid as soon as he'd formed the silver to hold the toucan bill handle in place. The metal held true, but its size was continually shifting. One moment he had to use both hands to support it, and the next it was so tiny he didn't know which hand he held it in. A thought crossed his mind that made him smile. Mogget was going to have a lot of explaining to do.