"We don't use folks' Christian names here--the ones their parents gave 'em." The blond boy seems happy to take point on most of the conversation. He walks around his stump with the confident swagger of a boy pretending at greater power and wisdom than he really has--that is, most little boys. "We use names we give each other, or the fairies give us."

"It's safer that way." The boy in the button-down starts to button his shirt up again, shaking his head at Achilles offering him the can. "Keep it. There's lots more." He buttons all the way up to his collar. "You can call me Scout. This is Stab. We call him that because that's what he does when grownups get too close, so don't do that."

"You can call me Gavroche," the blond boy says, puffing out his chest and shining his nails on his sweater. "And the one you're talking about is called Lamb, like in the Bible. The fairies gave 'im that name."