By then, the Master and his friends were standing beside Diamond. Elata cried and Seldom threw his hands over his face. Diamond looked at the pale foot and the sandal that his father made for him. “Give it to me,” he said.

Nobody reacted.

Then with a loud voice—an impatient defiant voice—he shouted at the world, “Give me my foot please.”

Another man appeared.

A corona’s necks and its heads were not real necks and heads, but instead were more like toothy fingers that carried the beast’s eyes. Those swift jaws could kill any prey, and those precious teeth shredded the flesh and shoved the bits to the true mouth—a giant maw that had been wrenched open with three blackwood timbers. Walking slowly out from the dead corona’s mouth, the new man was barely dressed, wearing a thin shirt and shorts, his face browned by the sun but the rest of his flesh pale. He was sweating hard. Gray hair was plastered against his scalp. The breeze felt good, but the man was surprised not to find his crew waiting for him. Each one of those men was trusted and reliable, yet all of them had wandered off at the worst possible moment. Merit paused. He heard worried voices. Then he turned slowly, safely, discovering the missing crew standing in a closely packed circle.

A stranger was among them, taller than the others, and older. Merit knew the face but couldn’t remember from where. Two children were beside the familiar man, and it was the crying girl who picked something off the ground—cradling a little object with both hands. Merit saw the sandal and then the bloody foot. What a mess! Freshly killed coronas were treacherous. Dead reflexes were still capable of violence, and every head carried a small, furious brain. He had seen this tragedy too many times, and what in the Creators’ good world would tree-walking children be doing in this wasteland?

He stepped carefully among the dead heads, avoiding their gaze while watching the girl carry that severed foot into that circle of men.

Another child sat on the ground. He didn’t act injured. He was uncomfortable perhaps, but he sat upright and never cried out. The boy was familiar, but Merit had no expectations of finding his son. The idea that Diamond would be anywhere in the world but inside his room, safe and secret, was beyond his reach. One his sturdiest men turned away and vomited on the sand. But the boy didn’t throw up or faint or show any signs of shock. He simply held his lost foot in both hands, and he looked at the fresh stump, and then he tried to put the foot back in place. And in the middle of that madness, what was most surprising was the poise he showed—as if this was any day, and this was any little chore.

One fellow was beating the guilty head, accomplishing nothing. But when he looked up, seeing the boss, he said, “We don’t know who they are, how they got here. We aren’t to blame, Merit. Regardless how this looks.”

Hearing that name, the boy looked up.

And still, it took a moment to recognize his son. The context was wrong. No reasonable story could put him on this ground, not today or any other day. Merit assumed that he was sleeping or dying. Dreams and hallucinations were far better explanations for what sat on the bloody ground. But just to be sure, he called out, “Diamond?”

“Father.”

Merit ran. Better than anyone, he knew the risks, but he couldn’t stop himself. Exhaustion was forgotten. Old knees were healed. He covered the ground in a sprint and dropped beside his boy. The crew were stunned. Was this really the famous never-seen son? Merit touched the hot forehead and said Diamond’s name several times, quietly and doubtfully, ready to ask questions that came to him and were forgotten in the next instant.

“Mother left home,” the boy said, no prompting necessary. “She went last night or this morning and didn’t come back. I went outside looking for her. And I looked for you. Then I found Elata and Seldom.” He pointed at the other children. “And they took me to Master—”

“Nissim,” said Merit, looking at the tall man. “Of course, I remember you now, sir.”

The butcher nodded.

All that while, Diamond held the clean white bone of his foot against the fresh stump.

“What are you doing?” Seldom asked.

“I think it’s working,” Diamond said. Then with a calm voice and a fetching little smile, he added, “I did this with my finger today.”

“Did what?” his father asked.

“There was a monkey inside our house. He bit off my finger.”

Merit stared at his son’s uninjured hands. Then looking at the foot and leg, he realized they were not two separate objects anymore. The flesh on both was turning soft and strange, tendons emerging to kiss and then join together.

“And how did you get here?” Merit asked.

“Inside the Happenstance,” the boy said happily.

Merit looked at Nissim.

With a quick clear voice, the Master replayed the journey to the Ivory Station and the strange men following them and how he did what he could to protect Diamond and the other children. There was an unfortunate incident after the blimp. Nissim was cornered and had no choice but use his knife.

“You killed that man,” Seldom said. “I knew you did.”

Nissim sighed and rubbed his empty hands. “No,” he said. “I just crippled him.”

Nobody spoke for a moment.

Then Nissim told how Merit’s son, alone and entirely out of his element, had found his way to the Ivory Station. Diamond even managed to avoid a stranger who knew his name . . . a high-voiced man who might have been Archon from the District of Districts.

“What’s that?”

Nissim described the encounter, adding, “But your son has better recall. Diamond has a fabulous memory for details.”

“He does,” his father agreed.

Gray toes were turning pink, and the foot wasn’t dead anymore.

To Merit, Master Nissim said, “I have some private matters to discuss, if we can speak alone.”

Merit rose again. His knees were old again, cracking like dried twigs. His gray work clothes were waiting to be worn again. Dressing, he said, “Someone needs to speak to the delegate, warn her that our work has found a big delay.”

The man who vomited had his chance to escape.

Joyous but baffled, the other men stared at the wiggling toes.

“Leave us,” Merit told his crew. “Go anywhere else, and I don’t care what you do with yourselves.”

The men laughed good-naturedly, but they took their time retreating.

Elata was jumping up and down, hugging herself.

Seldom said, “This is magic. It’s like nothing ever, ever, ever.”

But what impressed Merit more than anything was the calm, stoic face on his only child.

Nissim stepped close to the slayer. “Other people know about the boy.” That was worth saying twice, and with a whisper, he added, “I think I know what happened. I’m guessing, but someone called your home yesterday. Someone knows too much and threatened to tell about your son, and your wife left the boy alone to meet with the caller. To plead with him or bribe him.”

“Except we don’t have money,” said Merit. “And believe me, Haddi isn’t the kind to beg.”

Nissim sighed. “I don’t know the full story. But whoever is responsible, it’s fair to say that Diamond was lucky to escape and find help, and we were extremely fortunate to find our way to you.”

“I’m going to stand up,” said Diamond.

The other children offered hands to the wounded boy. But he flexed both feet and stood up on his own.

From a distance, ten grown men stared blank-faced at the impossible, and then a moment later, in unison, they let out a shout of approval.

“That’s one explanation for what’s happened, yes,” said Merit. Then he took a deep breath, thinking hard about everything.

Seldom knelt down, conjuring enough courage to touch one toe. “Do you feel that, Diamond?”

“Mostly.”

“Leave him alone,” Elata said.