Theo and the One Who Sat Alone
The Lantern Market opened when the tide went out, and everyone in Sablemouth came — everyone except the thing on the far rock.
It was about the size of a wheelbarrow and the color of wet slate, and it had been sitting there since Theo arrived. Nobody looked at it. That was the strange part. Not scared looks, not mean looks. No looks at all.
"That's a Grellow," said Pim, not turning around. "They don't come over."
"Did anyone ask it to?"
Pim thought about that longer than Theo expected.
Theo had four honey twists in a paper cone, which was three more than he needed and exactly the number he'd been planning to eat. He looked at them. He looked at the rock.
He walked out along the wet stones, which took a while, because they were slippery and because he kept almost turning around.
Up close the Grellow had eyes like two dark plums and it did not move at all.
"I have extra," Theo said, which was not true, and set one honey twist down on the rock. Then, because that felt like too little, he sat down next to it. Not close. Just there.
They watched the lanterns together for a while. The Grellow didn't touch the honey twist and didn't say anything.
But when Theo got up to go, it made a low sound like a boat horn heard from very far away, and Theo somehow knew, all the way through, that it meant come back tomorrow.