I imagined her springing from her father’s head, fully formed, like Athena.

We’d be a love out of time and space, ethereal, destined, and her dreams would take shape around my song. I’d teach the hills to say her name, and the winds and the trees and water, too, so that the elements would love her, so that everywhere she went, no matter where, she’d hear the world crying out for, calling over and over: “Liv Stone, Liv Stone, Liv Stone!

In the fog, she kissed me once, very quickly, and it felt like courage.

Sounds like you'd do a bunch," Liv breathed.Beneath the brim of her hat, I found her eyes."You would not rest," I said.