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and his feet seemed to lift from the ground.
    Before he veered right at the bottom of Moon’s Lane, he glanced to his left at the burnt remains of the Battenhatch house. It appeared more haunted than ever, especially now that he could see right through the dark, open space where the front door once concealed the secrets of those within. The stink of burnt wood and smoldering ash assaulted his nostrils as he flew past the awakening bungalows, towards Mary’s house, where he could see her in the distance, strolling and chattering with Dolly Worchester.
    He couldn’t recall a time when he didn’t know Mary Connelly, and yet he would always remember the first moment he saw her. It was Grade One, the beginning of the school year. He was five and she was six because the results of a test administered by the Darwin School Board Authority deemed Finton more advanced than most children his age, and so he was permitted to skip kindergarten. Thus, he would always be a year younger than nearly all of his classmates. That first day, there was a girl wearing a pink nylon jacket so bright that it hurt his eyes. She had just hugged her father after letting go of his hand, and she strutted away from him like she was ready to attack the world.
    Despite her small frame and wide, brown eyes that gave her the air of a fairy princess, she had a warrior’s spirit that was enhanced by the upward turn of her small nose, the quiet set of her determined chin, and the way her fine brown hair stranded across her face in the breeze. He’d been so entranced by that first sight of her that, as she approached him, he forgot to move. He just stared at her, admiring her luminous jacket and the confidence with which she tread the earth. She stopped in front of him, mere inches away, and only then did he realize he’d been standing in her path.
    â€œWhat are you looking at?” she’d asked.
    â€œYour coat.”
    â€œWhy would you stare at my coat?”
    â€œIt’s really pink.”
    â€œHaven’t you ever seen a pink coat before?”
    â€œNot like that one.” The bright September sun had arisen behind her in the crisp, fall sky, illuminating her hair in golden red.
    â€œWhat’s your name?”
    â€œFinton Moon.” Squinting, he looked away to the trees surrounding the schoolyard. He felt slightly destabilized whenever he said his own name aloud, as if each time he did so, he was giving away something of himself. He could imagine a day when he wouldn’t speak it at all, and when someone asked, he would offer a made-up one.
    â€œMine’s Mary Connelly,” she said, looking first at the ground and then into Finton’s eyes. “Wanna be my friend?”
    Finton nodded. “Okay.” Then Mary began telling him what Grade One would be like and what the teacher would say. She seemed very wise for one so small and fragile. Someone ought to be protecting her , he thought. Sir Finton Moon of the Laughing Woods—slayer of dragons, saviour of damsels in distress. In a way, of course, she was also looking out for him. She was his queen, and for her he would lay down his life.
    They sat beside each other in class, occasionally whispering a comment on the strange things the teacher said. But Mary had several such friends around her, all just wanting to be in her world, perhaps all thinking they would stand guard for her while she reigned over them and protected them. Finton shrank in his seat, defeated by the idea of competing for friendship.
    As the school year went on, Mary slipped gradually away from him and into the exclusive realm of girls. Her best friend was Dolly Worchester, the Amazon queen. While Mary was small and delicate, Dolly was tall, strong, and more athletic than most boys. In the games at recess in the school grounds, Dolly would battle more fiercely than anyone and was always a member of the victorious team.
    â€œHey, Moon! Wait up!” Hearing the voice