By Nora Schinnerl (...Continued from Part 1) Kite was still curled into a bundle of blankets in front of the stove when Setti woke. The old woman sniffed, torn between surprise and annoyance. She'd have figured him for a quitter, sneaking out before dawn to escape the work. That's what she'd have done when she was his age. Not like Setti was in any shape to chase after him. But he'd stayed and now she was stuck with him, just like she was stuck with her ghost. There was a thought to cheer her up in the morning. “Ey, boy.” The bundle of blankets stirred, then Kite woke with a start. The bruise on his face looked worse in the harsh morning light, his cheek all swollen and purple. From the way he winced, it wasn't the only one either. Setti dropped a bowl of oats on the table for him. “About time you start working for your food.”