"Don't you always get stuff?" Sefton asked, after a moment of simply staring at Chivy. It was difficult to figure out what the kid was trying to ask—and why was he so tired, anyway? It didn't make sense. The water hadn't really been cold enough to numb anything other than his legs, but he found himself losing steam regardless.

Shaking his dripping head, Sefton tried to concentrate. What had the other option been? Chivy staying? But... "There's no room for you up here," he said, figuring that process of elimination might help Chivy figure out the answer to his question.