Teige chuckled. "Fucken incredible," he said. "She ent one for seeing ghosts?"

Hawk looked back over his wing at the side, receding into the distance behind them, alone beneath a sky now roiling with black clouds that didn't seem quite willing to give up their rain yet.

"No," he said, "I was the only one." After a moment, he added, "I used t'not be able to tell 'em apart from the living."

It had gotten him in rather a lot of trouble, as a kid. Emry had had no patience for his speaking to invisible people. Liya was more willing to believe him, but even she had just seemed rather worried about his predisposal to see things that, as far as she knew, weren't there.

Teige broke through his thoughts. "Then mebbe it'll ease your mind t'know that most other folks like you and me can see 'em too."

Hawk stared at him. Teige stroked his chin, not seeming to notice the sudden weight that seemed to come off Hawk's chest.

"Ghosts bein' able to see�you,�though, that's...unsusual," he mused. Hawk squirmed. "I always thought they could only see other ghosts."

"Uh," Hawk said, reluctantly, "actually, they can't see me."

Teige paused, and then said skeptically, "How's that?"

Hawk grimaced. "Wull, what I mean is," he mumbled, and pointed at the left side of his face, which was still clear of feathers and odd hard bits of keratin. "They don't see�this.�Put it this way..."