“How is Honey?” she asked.
His brow fell and his lips pursed.
At that very moment, she heard a sing-song voice.
“Oh, look, it’s you!”
Damion and Kaelan parted, so that Magda could see Honey skipping towards them, smiling broadly, flush and golden as ever. She slipped between the two men and grasped Magda’s hands, clasping them to her chest as if they were long-lost sisters.
“I am so glad you’re not dead,” Honey said. “Would you like to dance with me?”
Though she seemed vivacious enough, her big blue eyes shone eerily translucent, like little blue shards of glass.
Magda extricated her hands from Honey’s warm grip. “Not quite yet. Still weak. Thanks.”
Honey curtsied. “Of course.” Then she pranced away, skirts fluttering around her.
Magda stared after the nymph. “What the hell happened to her?”
Kaelan’s face was as dark as a sea under storm clouds. “Ouda happened.”
“COME HERE,sit, sit!” Poppy returned with a finely woven basket hung in the crook of her arm. She corralled them to a raised flat of rock surrounded by soft moss. On the stone table, she laid out broad leaves. On top of those, she piled berries, mushrooms, and nuts.
Damion plopped down and began stuffing the mushrooms into his mouth.
Magda lingered next to Kaelan, watching Honey dance around the trees, singing sweetly as she twirled.
“I’m sorry, Kaelan,” she said.
“What for? She’s alive, isn’t she?” Damion said through a mouthful of food.
“Sit, sit,” Poppy said gently, giving Magda’s shoulder a nudge.
Magda lowered herself to the ground. Kaelan’s misery hung as thick as smog around him, and even though they were not empathically connected, it weighed on her, leaving a restless itch in her legs.
Still in flight, Poppy wrapped her arms around Kaelan’s neck briefly. “Eat, eat.”
Magda popped a smooth red berry into her mouth. The skin snapped and juice flowed down her throat, thick, like cream and sweeter than pineapple. The tension in her shoulders melted as the sugar rushed through her. She’d forgotten how much better food in the Lands tasted.
Kaelan sank to the ground next to her, but didn’t touch the food in front of him.
Poppy flew off and returned with a water jug crafted from more waxy broad leaves. She landed between Damion and Magda, setting the jug down and, with quick fingers, made boat-shaped cups out of more leaves. Once filled, she held one out to Magda.
Magda took the cup, her fingers grazing the sandpapery skin of Poppy’s hands.
“Thank you.”
She drank. The water tasted cool and rich. She smiled.
Poppy placed a leaf-cup before Damion and another in front of Kaelan, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
“As soon as you’re able, we should leave for the Spire,” Damion said to Magda after washing down the last of his food.
Magda chewed the rich meat of a nut slowly, ignoring Damion. “Ouda wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before.”
Poppy landed on the opposite side of the table, between Kaelan and Damion. “She was not Ouda.”
“What do you mean?” Magda asked.
