“Flor was one of my mother’s closest confidantes. And she is your father’s sister. She’ll help us.”
“She and my father never got on very well,” he grumbled.
“It doesn’t matter how well they got on, they’re family.”
“So is Lavana,” Damion muttered.
She scowled. “It could work,” she pressed.
“So you want me to take the identity of a boy who died?” Kaelan asked.
She nodded. “But until then, you should still change your appearance. We can’t risk anyone recognizing you.”
“And what are we going to do about the money?” Damion asked.
“Do you still have the ichor-gold glove?” Magda asked Kaelan.
“I gave it to my mother,” he said. “We could go back.”
“Yes, and we could take her back too,” Damion said, gesturing to Honey.
The nymph sat up. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’ll only slow us down,” Damion said.
She stood, shaking the sand from her gown. “I can help you. I have helped you. I don’t want to go back to the forest.”
The unnatural fog haunting Honey’s eyes sent a chill through Magda.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Magda asked.
Honey frowned, touching her scratched arm, wincing. “The ghouls... those ghosts. They were all so sad. They didn’t mean to hurt me. They wanted help. I can still hear them.” Tears trembled in her eyes. “It’s like they’re a part of me now.”
“Well, that’s definitely something we need,” Damion said. “First, her soul gets eaten, and now, she’s filled with ghosts.”
“Shut up,” Magda snapped.
Magda waited for Kaelan to comfort Honey, or at least to voice his opinion about whether or not the nymph should continue with them. But he stared off over the grasses, away from them, seemingly lost in thought. None of his emotions reached her, not that she tried to sense them. Since he appeared to be oblivious, Magda went to Honey’s side, resting a gentle hand on the nymph’s slight shoulder.
“I’m sorry for all that’s happened to you,” she said, “which is why it might be better if you went home.”
Honey’s quivering chin firmed. “I don’t know if I could go back now. My sisters might not want me... I’ve changed so much...” Her brow knitted as if she were only beginning to grasp what had happened to her. Perhaps she was.
“You have been a tremendous help to us,” Magda said, squeezing her shoulder. “You and Anqa both. I’m only sorry that you’ve suffered so much.”
“I’m not suffering,” Honey said, looking up at Magda with eyes that had shifted from bright and deep, to glassy and flat, and now, churning and murky. “I’m only... struggling.”
Magda wrapped her arm around Honey’s shoulders, though she had never been a hugger.
“We could still use your help,” Magda said, “if you’re willing. You know the risks.”
Honey nodded. “I would like that.”
Magda stepped away from Honey.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” she said. “Kaelan, change yourself”—she pointed at Damion—“into him.”
Kaelan and Damion looked at each other.
