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Moon stands naked in the moonlight. It is late. It is his favorite time.

When he was seven, and his grandfather was taken ill for the first time, he thought he would never see the man again. He had cried for days, until his grandmother relented and took him to the hospital for a visit. On that long and confusing night, Moon stole a glass vial of his grandfather’s blood. He sealed it tightly and hid it in the basement of his house.

On his eighth birthday, his grandfather died. It was the worst thing that ever happened to him. His grandfather had taught him many things, reading to him in the evenings, telling him stories of ogres and fairies and kings. Moon remembers long summer days when families would visit. Real families. Music played, and children laughed.

Then the children stopped coming.

His grandmother lived in silence after that, until the day she took Moon to the forest, where he watched the girls play. With their long necks and smooth white skin they were like the swans in the story. That day there was a terrible storm, thunder and lightning crashed over the forest, filling the world. Moon tried to protect the swans. He built them a nest.

When his grandmother learned of what he had done in the forest she took him to a dark and frightening place, a place where other children like himself lived.

Moon looked out the window for many years. The moon came to him every night, telling him of its travels. Moon learned of Paris and Munich and Upsala. He learned of the Deluge and the Street of Tombs.

When his grandmother took ill, they let him come home. He returned to a quiet and empty place. A place of ghosts.

His grandmother is gone now. Soon the king will tear everything down.

Moon makes his seed in the soft blue light of the moon. He thinks about his nightingale. She sits in the boathouse, waiting, her voice stilled for the moment. He mixes his seed with a single drop of blood. He arranges his brushes.

Later he will dress in his finery, cut a length of rope, and make his way to the boathouse.

He will show the nightingale his world.