Three Tides, page 3 of 12

Dawn comes in across the shallows with a small round clear stone balanced level on her snout and Pip waits with both arms raised, careful and delighted.

One morning she brought him a round clear stone that held the light all afternoon.

She carried it the last leaf-length more carefully than the distance needed.

For the garden, she said. He did not have a garden. He started one.