Eventually it came time for her to go off to kindergarten. Remembering Nita, her parents were braced for the worst, but not at all for Dairine's scowling, annoyed response when she came home. "They won't listen to what I tell them," Dairine said. ""Yet." And off she went to read, leaving her mother and father staring at each other.School went on, and time, and Dairine sailed her way up through the grades. She knew (having overheard a couple of her mother's phone conversa-tions with the school's psychiatrist) that her parents had refused to let her skip grades. They thought it would be better for her to be with kids of her own age. Dairine laughed to herself over this, since it made school life utterly easy for her: it also left her more free time for her own pursuits, especially reading. As soon as she was old enough to go to the little local library for herself, she read everything in it: first going straight through the kids' library downstairs at about six books a day, then (after the concerned librarian got permission from Dairine's parents) reading the whole adult collection, a touch more slowly. Her mom and dad thought it would be a shame to stifle such an active curiosity. Dairine considered this opinion wise, and kept read-ing, trying not to think of the time—not too far away—when she would exhaust the adult books. She wasn't yet allowed to go to the big township library by herself. But she had her dreams, too. Nita was already being allowed to go into New York City alone. In a few years, she would too. Dairine thought con-stantly of the New York Public Library, of eight million books that the White Lions guarded: rare manuscripts, books as old as printing, or older. It would take even Dairine a while to get through eight million books. She longed to get started.And there were other dreams more immediate. Like everyone else she knew, Dairine had seen the Star Wars movies.
