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herself, and she called it the Secret Story, though it wasn’t really a story at all, more like a list of rules.
    “You’re to tell no one this,” she told me the first time she spoke about it. “Do you understand? No one at all. Not even your sister.”
    We’d been on the beach that surrounded the Sand, eating waternuts. I was only a little girl.
    “Not even Glitterfish,” Mum repeated. “You’re the one I trust. Wait until you’ve got daughters of your own, then choose one who you know will keep the secret, and tell her like I’m telling you now.”
    Half of me was pleased to be chosen over my big sister; the other half wished it had been her that had been asked to carry this burden. But Mum had made up her mind, and I had no choice about listening to her going through a long list of things that, so she said, Mother Gela herself wanted to be passed on forever through the women of Eden.
    “Always remember that women are just as good as men.... Don’t ever treat someone differently because of the color of their skin....” (That was an odd one, when everyone’s skin was the same pale brown, but they do say Angela’s skin was dark and Tommy’s skin was light.) “Just because someone thinks they’re important doesn’t mean they’re better than anyone else, and nor does having lots of stuff.... There’s no need to hit children to teach them to behave.... Don’t treat people like they’re just things....”
    There was loads more of it, but it was one bit in particular that came into my mind as I lay there on the rocks at Veeklehouse, while the bats dived for fish in the shining water. It was the bit Mum used to emphasize more than any other.
    “Always look out for men who like the story to be all about them,” she told me in the name of the Mother of Eden. “ They’re the ones you should try to be with.”
    I could still remember how she looked at me when she told me that. She had a strange gleam in her eyes that I’d never seen before.
    “That’s why I chose your dad,” she said. “And if I hadn’t done that, well, where would you be?”
    Suddenly Angie and Johnny began to cheer and shout.
    “Tom’s dick and Harry’s!” Johnny shouted. “Look at you guys!”
    “Gela’s tits,” Angie said, laughing, “you should really see yourselves!”
    It was Dixon, Lucky, and Delight. They’d come back wearing who’d been my best friend since way before I could even walk. I saw their dismay, and I felt it myself as well. But I pushed my doubts down inside myself.
    “I want to go with him,” I repeated.
    “Doesn’t it bother you,” Julie asked, “that he thinks he can trade you for metal?”
    “You slip with women, Julie,” I told her. “How would you know what goes on between men and women?”
    I eyed her guiltily for a moment—she’d really done nothing to deserve that—then turned to Uncle Dixon.
    “And how do you know, Uncle, what Greenstone was trying to do when he gave you that metal and these wraps? How do you know he wasn’t just being friendly? It’s not his fault he’s got a lot of things to give.”
    “No,” said Dixon. “It’s true. He didn’t say it was a trade.”
    “He said it was a way of showing friendship,” Lucky said. “Friendship between Knee Tree Grounds, and   ... er   ...”
    “It’s called New Earth. It’s fifteen sixteen wakings’ paddling across Worldpool. It’s as big as Mainground.”
    “Our boats couldn’t take us that far, Starlight,” Johnny said. “We’d never see you again.”
    When my brother said that, I felt scared scared inside, like I’d never quite got hold until then of just how far away it was. I did my best not to show it, though, making my voice louder and harder to hide my fear.
    “Well, I’ll come back and see you, then,” I said. “Greenstone has big big boats, and lots of men to paddle them. I’m sure that—”
    “Lots of men, but no women at all,” Julie said. “No women, and no batfaces, either. What kind