They clung to one another in their grief, barely able to stand. Most turned their heads away, not bearing to watch. They wore the white of mourning as...well, but they also bore some new crest, a symbol in black which had not been seen before, on bands tied around their arms. In fact, a close look at the gathering would reveal that many in the crowd bore a similar device: the soldiers, the prisoners, the farmers. Not everyone, but enough that it would bear further questioning.On a high pyre lay. Bollocks. What was I going to do now? My bag was kindof distinctive, with drawings all over it, so there was no denying who itbelonged to. Everyone was looking at me. Staring. Wondering."Um." What do I say now?"This is Claire." It was Craig, speaking in a very firm voice. "She is myfriend. When Claire is not being Claire, she is the person you know asMatt. You've all made friends with her one way or another today, now youall thought she was hot and you all got on before. Ok, so if you have. More

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