"I know it's important to people." That seems a disingenuous thing to say, in the face of knowing that Puck has gone to confession. A part of me wants to ask if Puck attends a mass here in Darrow, but none of them would be the solemnity of Saint Columba. None of them will ever be Saint Columba. I've walked past those houses of worship, and they're - sterile. Even to me, with none of that faith.

We walk along in silence, a comfort to me and my inability to formulate my thoughts around Puck. When we reach the library, all I can do is shake my head a little bit.

"Do you think there are lions that come out of the woods or something?" I ask. Besides the library, there are statues with the beasts at City Hall as well. The sort of motifs that would have been horses on Thisby.