Deborah swallowed. ‘I hope not. But I’m going to find her and make sure.’
‘You should not go unescorted at this time of night,’ said Pran. ‘I told her this as well, but she would not hear me.’
‘I have to,’ replied Deborah. ‘There’s something we have to talk about. Alone.’
She found the Pixie wandering by the stream, as Pran had told her she would. Deborah approached her as quietly as she could, watching. Éha seemed to be struggling with herself, as though considering whether to stay, or run away. She was holding herself and weeping quietly.
‘Éha?’
The Pixie looked up, startled.
‘Éha? What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart-attack, taking off like that.’
Regaining her composure, the Pixie seemed reluctant to stay and speak with her. ‘I needed to think.’
‘You were going to run away,’ said Deborah. ‘Why?’
She muttered something inaudible.
Moving closer, Deborah said, ‘What? I couldn’t hear you.’
The little Pixie was shaken by her sobbing. ‘You’re going to go away . . . you’re going to leave me behind.’ She turned to leave.
Alarmed, Deborah took her firmly by the hand. ‘Éha! Listen to me. Don’t run away. Please.’ She was crying herself now.