A knock at the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts. She turned from the window, grateful for the distraction.
"Come in."
Sian entered, and Briar immediately noticed the slight sheen of moisture on her skin, the way her hair looked damp despite the afternoon warmth. The water fae's usual composure seemed frayed at the edges.
"I need your help," Sian said without preamble. "I know you're processing everything, but I have a situation and frankly, you're the only one available who won't make it worse."
Briar blinked at the unexpected directness. "What kind of situation?"
"The water sprites need to migrate to the winter pools before the upper fountains freeze, and they're being absolutely impossible this year." Sian pushed a strand of wet hair from her face. "Usually Halian helps me, but he's reinforcing the wards. Arion offered, but his light magic makes them skittish—they think he's trying to evaporate them."
Despite everything, Briar felt her lips twitch. "Water sprites?"
"Small water elementals. They inhabit the fountains and pools throughout the gardens. Every autumn, I have to coax them from the upper fountains down through the channels to the deeper pools that stay warm through winter." Sian moved to the door, clearly expecting Briar to follow. "It's tedious work. They're about as cooperative as cats, if cats were made of water and had opinions about everything."
The prospect of doing something useful, something that had nothing to do with hunts or courts or impossible choices, pulled at Briar. She found herself following Sian into the corridor.
"What do you need me to do?"
"Manage the sluice gates while I guide the water temperature. Help spot the ones hiding. Talk to the nervous ones, they respond better to voices sometimes." Sian led her through a side door into the afternoon sun. "And if we're very unlucky, help me chase down the ones that decide to make a run for it."
"They run?"
"Bounce, really. Like bubbles with attitude." Sian's expression suggested this was more annoying than amusing. "Last year, one made it all the way to the throne room before I caught it. Left puddles everywhere."
They emerged onto a terrace Briar hadn't seen before, where a series of fountains cascaded down the hillside in tiers. The water sparkled in the afternoon light, but as Briar looked closer, she saw them—tiny forms within the water, some barely visible, others catching the light like living prisms.
"There," Sian pointed to the topmost fountain. "See the ones near the lotus blooms?"
Briar leaned closer, and her breath caught. They were beautiful, translucent beings that seemed to shift between water and light, some no bigger than her thumb, others the size of her palm. One near the edge had what looked like flowing fins or fronds extending from its head, like an aquatic flower blooming in constant motion.
"They're incredible," she said softly.
"They're troublemakers," Sian corrected, but there was affection in her tone. "Watch." She held her hand over the water, and Briar felt the temperature shift, the warm surface water beginning to sink while cooler water rose from below.
Several sprites immediately darted deeper, following the warm current. But others scattered, some hiding beneath lily pads, one actually leaping out of the fountain entirely to plop into a decorative urn nearby.
"See what I mean?" Sian sighed. "This is going to take all afternoon."
Briar found herself genuinely smiling for the first time since waking. "Where do we start?"
"The first rule," Sian said, kneeling beside the topmost fountain, "is patience. Watch which direction they naturally want to go, then encourage that."
She demonstrated by creating a gentle current with her fingers, barely disturbing the surface. Several sprites followed it, their translucent bodies catching the light as they spiraled down toward the next tier. But one—a particularly small one with frond-like appendages that reminded Briar of feathered gills—kept darting behind a cluster of water lilies.
"That one's new," Sian observed. "Born this summer, probably. They're always the most skittish about their first migration."
Briar found herself drawn to the tiny sprite. It was smaller than the others, its body shifting between pale blue and crystal clear as it moved. When it peeked out from behind the lily pad, she could see large, dark spots that looked almost like eyes.
"Can I try?" she asked.
Sian gestured for her to go ahead. Briar dipped her fingers into the water slowly, careful not to create ripples. The temperature was pleasant, sun-warmed on top with cooler depths below. The hiding sprite darted deeper behind its lily pad.
"Hello, small one," Briar said softly. She kept her hand still, letting the water settle. "The others are going somewhere warm for the winter. Don't you want to go too?"
The sprite edged out slightly, those eye-like spots seeming to focus on her fingers. Its gill-fronds waved gently in the water, creating tiny currents of their own.
"There's a gate here," Sian said, moving to a bronze mechanism built into the fountain's edge. "When I open it, the water level will lower and create a current down to the next pool. Can you keep our shy friend from panicking?"
