The frenzy held. It held. The amber road caught him and pulled, and he was moving, he was free, he was —

— not home.

The Pineapple Waterway carried him only a little way. Then it softened, and split, and set him down on another island. Bigger. Greener. But an island, all the same.

Wind sat down in the sand with his paipo across his knees, and he did not cry, though he thought hard about it.

All that cleverness. All that nerve. One small island's worth of distance.