-c- 2008 Mcgraw-hill Ryerson Limited Official

“You threw it away,” August said. No anger. Just tired relief.

On the sixth evening, he found the first sign: a tin cup, rusted into a cleft of rock. The stamp on the bottom read MONTREAL, 1927 . Elias held it carefully. Tivon Arkell had drunk from this cup. Had maybe sat on this exact boulder, watching the same endless sky. -C- 2008 mcgraw-hill ryerson limited

On the flight back, he didn’t speak. He watched the tundra scroll beneath them—lakes like shattered mirrors, rivers like silver scars. He thought about his mother, the real one. He thought about Tivon Arkell, who had followed a broken compass into a valley that didn’t exist. He thought about Grandfather August, who had known exactly what he was sending his grandson to find. “You threw it away,” August said