Kire saw the understanding between Zeke and boy when she asked her question. Given the circumstances, she could understand why a birth-day wasn’t a happy occasion for a young lad like him. She saw, too, that he was trying to be strong despite it. [i]What a hard childhood.[/i] She grinned briefly at his admission, then turned serious, nodding in response to his question. “That’s why I’m here. The face thief, and the person who made her.” She glanced at Zeke, half-expecting the man to stop her from talking about such dark things in front of Aeron. She patted the wooden planks she was carrying. “Where do I put this?”

After she set down the lumber, Kire turned back to Aeron. “Would you believe me if I said I was a hundred years old?” she asked, squatting down next to another set of lumber. “The face-thief, she’s probably only a year old, half a year. She’s like a human-sized puppet, and her master stuffed her with all the hate and evil he had. Terrible magic. I don’t think it’s like what Rulitus does at all.”