“Cap'n, you know they won't let you keep that. No one keeps anything from the Treasure Beach,” Gankis pointed out gingerly.

“Don't they?” Kennit queried in return. He put a twist of amusement in his voice, to watch Gankis puzzle over whether it was self-mockery or a threat. Gankis shifted his weight surreptitiously, to put his face out of reach of his captain's fist.

“S'what they all say, sir,” he replied hesitantly. “That no one takes home what they find on the Treasure Beach. I know for sure my uncle's friend didn't. After the Other looked at what he'd found and told his fortune from it, he followed the Other down the beach to this rock cliff. Probably that one.” Gankis lifted an arm to point at the distant shale cliffs. “And in the face of it there were thousands of little holes, little what-you-call-'ems. . . .”

“Alcoves,” Kennit supplied in an almost dreamy voice. “I call them alcoves, Gankis. As would you, if you could speak your own mother tongue.”

“Yessir. Alcoves. And in each was a treasure, ‘cept for those that were empty. And the Other let him walk along tie cliff wall and look at all the treasures, and there was stuff there such as he'd never even imagined. China teacups done all in fancy rosebuds and gold wine cups rimmed with jewels and little wooden toys all painted bright and, oh, a hundred things such as you can't imagine, each in an alcove. Sir. And then he found an alcove the right size and shape, and he put the butterfly lady in it. He told my uncle that nothing ever felt quite so right to him as setting that little treasure into that nook. And then he left it there, and left the island and went home.”