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too!”
    Every day there were new paintings, new creatures. Every day as he came up the path, Willow would pretend not to see Mims’ small face in the kitchen window or to hear her shouting, “Here he comes!” But he never had to pretend when he opened the door. Always, his surprise and delight were real.
    So it was that afternoon. “Surprise! Surprise!” they shouted as the door swung back.
    His family had given their whole day to the child. Ranon had fashioned a cradle for her, and Mims had decorated it with strings of beads. Kiaya had knitted a little woolen blanket to lay inside. They had all gathered flowers from the woods and fields and spread them around the child, like tributes. Mims and Kiaya even wore some in their hair.
    All of them, even the child in her new cradle, spread their arms wide in greeting. She had been bathed in the stone tub and fed. She had had a good sleep. Now she was wide awake and laughing.
    Willow laughed, too, despite his fatigue and worry. She was so beautiful! And his family were so much in love with her already. He bent over and picked her up. “Well, little lady, it looks as if you’ve made yourself at home.”
    The child gurgled and reached up for his nose, and Willow saw the Sign inside her elbow. He held her gently, peering close. “Kiaya . . .”
    “Shh.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Go get washed,” she said to Mims and Ranon. “Supper in a few minutes.”
    “Kiaya,” Willow said when they were alone, “what is this?”
    “A birthmark.”
    “But, have you ever seen such a birthmark?”
    She shook her head.
    “So strange . . . Look, it’s as if it were painted with a tiny brush—a fairy brush!”
    Kiaya nodded again. She was still holding her husband’s arm, and she was biting her lower lip. “I know. And Willow, there’s something else. It’s her eyes. Look at her eyes, Willow. Look close.”
    Willow did. They were not the eyes of an ordinary infant. This child’s eyes were like deep, still pools of time. As he gazed into them, Willow felt that he had begun a long journey, a long, spiraling journey that would end where he began and yet not where he began. “No, please!” he said. “Not me!”
    The child laughed.
    “You see? Willow, what should we do? Should we take her to the Village Council?”
    “Uh-unh.” Willow glanced fearfully at his wife. “No!”
    “But Willow, she’s not ordinary ! You can see that.”
    “That’s just it, Kiaya! You know what the Council will think if we take her to them. They’ll see right away that she’s a Daikini, and they’ll take one look at that mark on her arm, and they’ll think that she’s a bad omen, or part of a charm or something. You know how they are, Kiaya. The first sign of a flood or a drought in the valley and they’ll blame me for it. Somebody’ll say, ‘Ufgood did it! Ufgood brought around that Daikini child, that strange one!’ And Burglekutt’ll say, ‘Yaaaz, that’s right, and he’s a sloppy farmer, too! Let’s get him!’ And that’ll be the end of the farm.”
    “Oh Willow, you fret too much. Calm down. The High Aldwin would never let . . .”
    “The High Aldwin! Exactly! Another good reason for not saying anything. Tomorrow the High Aldwin’s going to choose me as his apprentice!”
    Kiaya sighed and shook her head. “Don’t get your hopes up about that. The High Aldwin hasn’t chosen an apprentice for six years. And besides . . .”
    “Besides what?”
    “Well, your magic’s still a little, hmm, off.”
    “Off! My magic? Why, do you know what I did this morning down the river? I cast a spell that . . .”
    The child cried out sharply, and what Willow was about to say vanished as abruptly as the little boat had vanished into the river. At the same moment, Mims and Ranon came running back.
    “Oh Dada,” Mims said, “she likes you, doesn’t she? She likes you very much.”
    And indeed the child was gurgling joyfully, gripping Willow’s collar.
    “She looks as if