The girl dreamed she stood in a line that didn't end. Soldiers clad in black armor passed out silver buttons to those who waited. The woman in line behind her kept biting it in wonderment to determine if it was real, she claimed, even as her teeth began to chip and break away. Finally toothless, she gummed the thing.

An incessant buzzing burrowed deeper into the girl's head the closer she got to the front, but she never arrived. Instead, she watched countless others before her fall single file into the mouth of a metallic monster with a glossy black hide.

She awoke to her heart trying to climb out of her chest.

She remembered where she had heard that noise and couldn't believe she had ever forgotten.

After Eli had taken her to that town only to demand that she leave it, she tore down back alleys and shimmed under fences that puzzled in terraced backyards, the fabric over her face suffocating, until she turned a corner and barreled into a man.

"Watch it," he spat and shoved her.

Startled, she forgot to keep her head down and he fell into those pools of liquid gold. So close to him was she that his beady eyes darted between them. Before she could move, he reached up and ripped down her scarf.

He inhaled sharply, then cursed through clenched teeth.

She tried to shoot past him, but he grabbed her arm.

"Ow. You're hurting me."

Using a calloused thumb, he roughly rubbed at her cheek.

"What kind of makeup is this?"

He pinched her cheek and she squealed. He laughed at that.

"Doesn't matter. The right buyer will pay for any child. Come with me," he said, and started to drag her back toward town.

"No—" she fought him, wriggling about.

He slapped her so hard that stars erupted in her eyes and a bell rung in her skull. She might have careened into the stone-cobbled wall had he not kept his grip.

Her vision wobbled with pain but she could see that he heard it, too—a buzzing that swelled over the ringing in her head.

He searched the thin strip of cloudless sky above the alley. "What is that?"

The air changed, feeling as it does on balmy night when a thunderstorm approaches, making her skin tingle.

He started and his lip curled when he turned back to her. "What's wrong with you?"

She felt her nose running, tasted it as she bled into her mouth. She touched her lip and her finger came away green, shimmering in the sun. Then she did the only thing she thought to do—something her mother did to her father once--she socked him in the groin. He howled and she slipped through his grasp, felt him tug on her cloak, heard it rip as she kept running. The buzzing lingered, tickling her between the ears all the way home, long after she had left that town behind.

The girl moved her furs and pillow to the floor. She opened her bedroom door a bit wider and laid down where she could see the back of Mat's head on the couch and drifted back into a troubled sleep.

The day her brother dragged her through that nameless town, she saw the likes of things she had only ever read about in storybooks: horses, fish for sale on street carts, dogs begging for scraps—and it was no different at Gran's cottage.

Everything felt brand new.

Sitting out on her cloak with the sun on her skin, grass between her toes, and a breeze on her scalp, Snow watched a bunny hopping on the outer edge of a twig fence surrounding a garden, gauging the green bean sprouts with a twitchy nose. She stretched, closed her eyes and tilted her face up to the sun like a morning flower, listening to Mat rummage around in the toolshed and the occasional buzz of a bumblebee zipping by. Smiling to herself, she laid back only to be greeted by a sharp pain on her arm. With a sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth, she bolted up and whirled around to see a bumblebee crawling around on the cloak, looking a little dazed. Pain still threading her skin, her eyes bore into the insect, a small pressure budded in her skull, then released, and the bee's wings tore from its back. It wriggled and flipped over, its little legs kicking against an invisible adversary as tufts of its fuzzy exterior were ripped away, exposing buggy guts.

"Help me with this, will you?"

A burning prickled the back of her eyes, threatening tears as she stared down at the tiny, indistinguishable heap of bee parts.

"Hey," Mat barked. Something in her face softened his tone. "You alright?"

She nodded reflexively and got up to help Mat pull a tarp out of the shed.

When not in the gardens, early summer days were spent at swordplay.

"Think you could use a pupil?" Mat asked, one balmy morning.

The girl quit her training to flash him a sly look, then stuck her nose up in the air.

"You'll only slow me down."

Mat gasped, pretend offended.

"Look. I brought my own stick. Aren't you ready to move onto flesh-and-bone opponents?" he said, bouncing around on his toes, jabbing at the air around her.

She bit back a smile. "You said you'd be my pupil."

"At first," he said and lunged.

The girl took a lazy step to the side.

A pout played on his lips.

"OK," she said, never having intended to actually deny him.

"Yeah?"

She nodded, took a step toward him, and placed the stick between her palms so the wood almost touched her nose. Mat did the same.

"Close your eyes."

He did. She took an audible breath. Mat peeked. She slapped his shoulder with her stick.

"Ow."

"Eyes closed."

He complied.

"Pretend the stick is an extension of your arm. Now hold it in one hand."

She reached out and adjusted his grip.

"Turn to the side to make yourself as small of a target as possible. Bend your knees and secure your feet to the ground."

He peeked again, which earned him another poke.

"Now listen to my movements and try to stab me--eyes closed!"

It took him three days to finally land a blow. He whooped with triumph. As a reward, they went the rounds again, but this time, she let him keep his eyes open and she fought back.

She was quicker than him—quicker at climbing trees, a quicker sprinter and quicker in this. From pulling weeds to tilling and planting in the gardens, he was fit but bulkier and quicker to tire, bumbling about like a drunkard in comparison.

Again and again the girl delivered the final blow.

"Dead. Dead. Dead."

She pulled the stick back from his throat as he heaved a sigh and plopped down on the grass. Lacing his fingers behind his sweaty head, he laid back in resignation, chest heaving.

"Do me a favor and don't bring me back this time." He squinted up at her until she stepped into the sun's glare. "You're already pretty handy with that thing. You don't need to practice so much."

"You should."

"Ouch." He clutched his chest. "Good thing we're out in the middle of nowhere and will never be enlisted to fight in any wars then, eh?"

She spared the Burnt Forest a fleeting glance. Mat smartened and picked up his stick.

"Let's go," he sighed, getting into position.

They parried until Mat huffed and puffed and struggled to lift his arm. He went to his knees, face pleading.

"I give. You win. Now it's time for a swim," he said, nodding toward the beach.

"I can practice alone," she said, unable to keep the aversion out of her voice.

"C'mon. The stick will be here when you get back. I want to swim. It'll be fun," he said, giving her a playful shove.

"I can't swim."

That stopped him cold. "What?"

Not in the habit of repeating herself, she gave him a cool glare.

He put up his hands, "Right. Well, I'll teach you!"

She shook her head.

"Hey, I tried something new—it's your turn."

She brooded, drawing circles in the dirt with her stick.

"Don't be such a timid tortoise."

She rolled her eyes, dropped the stick and pushed past him.

"You're getting good at that!"

The girl had never seen a body of water bigger than a bathtub. When they crested the hill, all that blue sparkling in the midday sun made her skin tingle and the blood rush out of her head.

Mat never stopped but ran for the shore, kicking up sand, stripping his shirt off as he went. He dove straight in.

The expanse was daunting when there was no way to know what lurked below the surface. Her mother had once said something similar about the Burnt Forest. The girl thought she finally understood what she meant.

Mat slapped the water. "Come on! Be quick about it and kill the anticipation."

Down the shore, waves bashed against those crags where the sand gave way to sheer rock faces that weren't faces at all. At night, sound helped soothe her to sleep. Now it plucked at her taut nerves as she adopted a snail's pace, taking tentative steps toward the surf. As it rushed up to greet her on the sand, it took everything in her to not lurch away—it swallowed her feet with a biting cold that rushed up to pinch her heart.

The salty air in her lungs, the water lapping at her toes, and the way the sun glinted off her alabaster skin made her lightheaded, made her feel exposed, and even now she could hear Mother—

Ugly girl, look at you—parading about, a spectacle for the world to see—

Feel an imaginary tug on her hair—

Ugly wight.

With great abandon, she moved into the water, letting the current pull her this way and that until it tickled her collarbones.

"You're doing great," Mat said, right before a wave slopped over her head and she came up sputtering.

He laughed.

"I can't breathe," she insisted defensively.

"Yes, you can." He hoisted her by the waist. "See? Nothing to be afraid of. Lay on your back and I'll help you float."

Palms flat against her back, he did just that, giving her an extra boost for every wave.

He watched her with a smile, making her gut flutter and her cheeks hot. Feeling silly, she wriggled away and took two giant steps back.

His mouth wiggled; he found her amusing.

"You know how to dog-paddle?" He swam in a circle around her, and though she had never seen a dog swim, she imagined that's how it might go about it.

"Why must I swim like a dog?"

"It's an easy way to learn. Y'know, swimming's a bit like swordplay."

"How?" she asked incredulously, crossing her arms against the cold, trying to still the chattering of her teeth.

He poked her forehead. "Tactic starts in the mind. Be confident and focus on feeling weightless."

She thought about telling him to shove it but wanted to prove she could do it. So, she let him rest an arm against her stomach as she practiced the dog-paddle, lifting her every time she started to sink.

Swimming was unlike anything she had ever known. A tub without walls, all she had to do was imagine herself floating and the water buoyed her up, like a cloud sailing across a blue sky. It lapped at her skin, begged for her attention.

He taught her how to blow through her nose, and the rest was child's play—dipping under the surface, running her hands over its sandy belly, grabbing at Mat's ankles and splashing him when he wasn't looking. Mat even showed her how to make the biggest splashes by jumping from flat sun rocks and curling up into balls.

It was when the sun reached its peak in the sky that the girl's euphoria started to slop around in her chest.

"You don't look so good," Mat said, eyes roving over her skin.

She looked to her translucent skin where green veins had started to appear like mossy webs. Like a whisper at the back of her mind, she knew something was wrong, but any concern was gobbled up by the hum of the sea, begging her to stay.

"Let's take a break," he said, concern wavering in his voice.

"Not yet."

She dipped into the surf, but when her toes pushed up from the sand, her eyes rolled—the sun suddenly too bright—the horizon tilted and she began to sink sideways. Rough hands grabbed at her and panic sprung up in her mind like blood splatter.

"What are you doing?" he grunted as she tried to shove him away.

The sun burned white in her eyes, then settled as a golden halo atop his head, casting his face in shadow. Heart pounding, she was back in that alley, but the setting was all wrong.

"Don't touch me," she huffed as the phantom buzzing took up house in her skull. "Eliwood'll kill you."

"Okay, crazy."

She swung at him but slipped; saltwater rushed into her throat, burned her nose. He hoisted her over his shoulder and hauled her away while she kicked and slapped to no avail. Any moment now, they would crest the hill and he would throw her into that mechanical monster's gaping maw.

Maybe she would get to meet that captain of the sky after all.