We took our time, pausing often and moving slowly and thoughtfully.
As we walked through a stretch of cool, green kelp forest on a level but narrow path, Starry asked me what I thought Kew's punishment should be.
"I think he will deeply regret his theft of the crystal." I said. "He probably had some childish ideas about how marvelous he was--you know--the chosen one syndrome. His failure to cure his friend's incurable old age may actually help him understand his true place in life. What do you think?"
"About punishment?" Starry said, "Well I think he should be punished some way--not dismissal from the monastery or jail or bread and water sort of punishment--but maybe have his library visiting privilege removed for a month or so or have to wash dishes for a while or something like that.
"Young Kew might even become an adept himself some day--at least he has the courage to act on his beliefs along with his youthful enthusiasm and ignorance."
"And we were all young once, weren't we, my friend?" I said. "In a way I am glad we didn't have to go down to the village and question people and nab some villainous thief--the usual cops and robbers routine. Kew was a surprise to me--though my hunch was a little bit right--the Blue Star had never left the monastery--but at least Kew was trying to do something good."
"And we had some very interesting experience too." Starry quietly said. "Would you like to stay at the monastery, Constable? As a friar I mean?"
"Never even thought about it." I replied. "No I think I am useful in my own way out in the world. I like my life."
"Me too." Starry said. "Though I did like the peacefulness and the music and even the good food! I am pretty content with my own simple starfishy life."