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"It hurts a lot. I don't know if it's the worst death; I've never died."

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"I imagine the dying part is roughly similar in all cases."

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"I've done a lot of things people die from, but it's different when you're immortal. I've been set on fire and beaten and raped, and I've jumped off the top of the tower and tried to drown myself in the lake and eaten rat poison and broken glass. Fire hurts the most while it's happening, but it doesn't last as long as some of the rest - but I don't know if it'd kill you faster or slower."

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Etty shivers.

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"What?"

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"It's - gruesome."

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She laughs.

"That's my life."
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"Well, maybe it's fixable."

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"Maybe."

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"Do you think you could teach me to light - does it have to be candles, or could I burn leaves and tinder and the like? I think I can adjust to this level of moonlight and be able to write, but the moon will wane, and I don't know how - how long it might take to break the curse."

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"I have no idea," she says. "But if you light anything, he'll see it from the castle. And there'll be hell to pay if he sees you doing magic, I bet."

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"Even if I go deep into the woods? Or as deep as I can, anyway, I don't know yet what's keeping me from walking or flying away but it must exist."

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"Maybe not. And I guess he can't hurt you as bad as he can hurt me, or you'll die and he'll have to find a new flock again."

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"Do you know if I heal - clean, like you do? If he breaks my legs or something - for that matter what happens when I transform, if I'm hurt?"

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Nona shrugs.

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"Well," sighs Etty, "no need to hasten the experiment, I'm sure to trip and scrape my knee soon enough."

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"Do you do that a lot?"

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"I'm very clumsy. Even when I'm not adjusting to an unfamiliar body."

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"Oh." She shrugs again.

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Etty's hands twist together. "Do you suppose it will help," she says, "if I fall in love with you?"

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"I don't know. It might. Do you want to?"

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"- There are reasons to want to. Overall I haven't added them up yet."

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"Okay."

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All of a sudden, the curse gives Etty another inexplicable feeling.

This one is very insistently directional.
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Etty stiffens.

"I think I have to go," she whispers, and she lurches to her feet and stumbles in the direction of the gate.
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