"What will you do now?" asked the crone.
"Who will you be again?" asked the fool boy.
"Who will you help with what you have learned, here in the dark forest?" asked the wild man with the sun on his heart and the great white sword.
"Anything," said the woman. "Anyone. Everyone. If I can."
"If is a dream in the darkness," said the crone. "Try is a solid road."
"But I'm tired, and the whole of me hurts."
The crone grinned. "I didn't say it was an easy road."
The boy shrugged. "You could just go home."
And the man with the sun on his heart, he sighed. "Or you could come with us through the forest, seeking lost souls, helping them sing their way back to themselves."
The woman sat straighter, although her spine felt still clogged with pebbly dirt, and her heart felt chewed by monsters, and her feet ached. "I would like to try that," she said. "But I have nothing to offer."
The man smiled. "You have the memory of sorrow. That is more than enough."
from A Womanful of Bones, one of the little stories in The Coracle Sky.