Not a little girl—a young woman. But still young in that.

His eyes flick up as he tries to sort through the information as far as he recalls. "They're all pieces of the bigger gem, they come to physically manifest when you're dead or or near to death, they hold a bit of the power of your world . . . and mine hurt like b—" He looks at her, changes his mind, "—bad . . . person . . . after I tried to play that dream harp."

So, not much.