The sun shone brightly on the snow-covered streets the next day. Tad shuffled along, enjoying the sunshine on his face even as the wind ripped through his ragged clothing. He pulled his jacket tighter around him. “If I only had a hat,” he mumbled to himself, painfully conscious of the stolen headpiece he had crumpled under his coat.
He remembered the feeling of terror that had surged through him as he placed it on his head in the early hours of the morning. There was a rush of images, a swirl of colors, and then the overwhelming rush of awareness as he located his brother’s soul. Then there was nothing but memories and emotions. Fear. Anger. Frustration. Desperation. My body. It was Westley’s voice. Where is my body? An image – no, a memory – of a newt scrambling away into the shadows.
Tad shuddered all over again as he walked through the city park, recalling the pain of removing the hat and losing contact with his brother. I’ll find you a body, he thought. Westley’s old body was gone, but Tad would make him a new one. You’ll be a golem, brother. You’ll be immortal.
But a beggar child like Tad didn’t have access to a whole lot of building materials. He could never scrape together enough metal, clay, or even stone. Not here in the city. No, he would have to improvise. He would have to use whatever he had at hand.
At last, he spotted the other street children, already hard at play in the snow. Mary and Sam were engaged in a fierce snow ball battle, while Anne, Susannah, and James were busily gathering sticks for the finishing touches on…
Westley’s new body. Tad grinned and rushed over to help them.