She thought about it for a moment, then replied seriously “We can tack across the wind out onto the lake, or just south along the shore,” After this she hesitated, having forgotten the word he used to go against the wind.

     Uncle J nodded “Or?”

     She smiled up at him sheepishly “I forgot the words.”

     He laughed “Don’t worry about the fancy words, just tell me what you were thinking.”

     “Well, we could go sort of against the wind to that little island.. the one with the pretty blue flowers, you know?”

     Uncle J nodded, pleased with her answer. “Do you remember how to do that?” he asked, to which Aise nodded excitedly; that was fun and complicated, plus she loved that little island. “Well then lets be off!”

     Aislin beamed and ran for the little lean-to under which the skiff was moored. She hopped in and pushed off after uncle J untied the little craft.

     She sometimes wondered why her parents never let her go out with them in their fishing boat. Maybe their boat made too much noise and it was boring. She could understand that. Uncle J’s skiff was small, much smaller than father’s ship, and he could take care of it all by himself, where father needed at least five others to help with all of the ropes and sails. Father talked about teaching her how to work on his boat, but he said he wanted to wait until she was a little older because she would have to be strong to do some of the important things. Oh well, this was more fun than what her father and his hired hands did anyway. She knew ‘cause the men were always complaining about the hard work on the ship.

     She used her full weight to bring the sail around, then scooted forward as uncle J leapt in, shifting his form to human. She liked his natural form better, especially those soft brown wings. But he was too heavy to sail with her in that form now.

     “Alright,” uncle J said, “What’s first?” He watched as Aise worked the rigging, bringing the sail about yet again, then adjusting the jig. He still had to help her with the more difficult tasks, but all in all, little Aise knew this boat from keel to rudder, and could handle it almost as well as he could.

     The little skiff sailed right along, cutting silently through the glass surface, and Aislin was happy. She was always happy when they were out on the lake. It was so big you couldn’t see the other side, and if you sat in the middle and looked all around, you wouldn’t see any land at all, except maybe the little island.

     After a moment, when the course was laid and all was still save for the wind billowing in the sails, uncle J’s voice rose in song, the melody strangely haunting, but soothing. Like a lullaby.

     When he had finished, the water was the only sound over the lake for a long while. Ailsin was off in her own world, dreaming that she was flying over the lake on a pair of soft feathery wings. When she realized that he’d stopped singing she looked at him and tilted her head. “What was that song about?” she asked. She’d heard him hum the tune before, once when she had stayed too long at his cabin and the forest had gotten dark and frightening, he’d walked with her all the way to the edge of the clearing near her home, humming it quietly the whole way.
     Uncle J smiled “It’s a song to quiet night fears. My mother used to sing me to sleep when I was just a kitling. It means: