The woman chuckled, fondly. “No, she is far younger than my grandchildren. They, too, have left the husks of their mortal forms and now dance among the spirits.”

“So, then is she your great-granddaughter?”

The priestess shook her head. “No, she is still younger by far.”

Tod made a puzzled face, then frowned. Something didn’t make sense. “Miss…ah…” he began, recalling that the woman hadn’t any name, “Miss Priestess,” he improvised, “you lived longer than your children, and your grandchildren, and your great-grandchildren and you said that the girl in your story is a lot younger than they were. So, why’d you live a lot longer than all of them? Were they sick, or something?”

The gentle woman shook her head. “Nearly all of my descendants lived to their natural end. They lived long, happy lives and when their time to rest finally arrived, they closed their eyes on this world and journeyed to the next in peace. But, though many of my family have deceased, many more still live. That beloved girl, her sister, and even the members of what you call, the Royal Family all belong on the branches of my own family tree. The blood of the monarchs of this island flows directly from my firstborn son. From the first to the last, all have descended from him.”

“All?!” Night exclaimed. “I don’t understand. Your son was the first ruler, the first Emperor of Calico?”