“It’s supposed to be a secret.” His smile let Saeldian in on it. “But I have an idea. First, introductions. We’ve gotten a bit out of step. I am the Archfey Osalor. I command a domain of the Feywild, and my proper address is ‘my lord.’ ”
Saeldian tensed. They’d gotten it wrong. Disrespectfully wrong. “I’m sorry, my lord!”
“Don’t be afraid, dear child,” Osalor said. “You’ve been living among humans. You didn’t know. And now that you know, you will never make that mistake again, will you?”
Saeldian shook their head. “No, my lord.”
“Then there is nothing to fear. What is your name?”
“I’m Saeldian.”
He waited.
Saeldian hung their head. “I’m not supposed to use Wheeler.”
“Good day, Saeldian,” Osalor said, very seriously. “I’m going to teach you something. Stand up, all on your own.”
Saeldian obeyed and waited under Osalor’s inspection.
He tilted his head, thoughtful but not smiling. Saeldian wantedto wipe their face, hide the stain on their tunic, but he shushed before they could apologize again.
“You’re not in trouble. But you stand like a human,” he said. “Let’s correct it. How you stand tells people who you are. Lift your head—not your chin, my dear. Your head. Draw up high and powerful. Good. Now draw your head back so it feels like it’s balanced perfectly on your neck. There! You’re already taller. Very good.”
Every time Osalor saidgood,it felt like the sunlight was happier to shine on Saeldian. He directed every detail until Saeldian stood more carefully than they ever had, then said, “There. How does it feel?”
So strange. Too proud. But this was how Osalor stood, and he thought Saeldian should be proud too. “It’s hard.”
“Then practice. You can feel it, though, can’t you? You’re balanced. You already look more graceful. You’ll see what standing in grace will do.”
“Thank you,” Saeldian said, and corrected their shoulder position automatically. “For teaching me.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Osalor backed up to sit on the wishing rock. “May I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“I think I know what you asked for when you made a wish. You wished for your father to come back, didn’t you?” Osalor said. “To protect you from Mr. Wheeler.”
“To take me away,” Saeldian said. “Will you do that? Will you take me to the Feywild?”
“I cannot,” Osalor said. His serious expression wished that he could, though. “I am in very grave danger. I fled from a witch. They want something of mine, something very important. I came here to hide it.”
“Here? In Priapurl?”
Milkweed fluff drifted on the breeze, spinning as if dancing to unheard music. Osalor smiled again. “I think it would be safer if I could leave it in the care of someone who would guard it.”
Saeldian leaned back. “From a witch?”
“I know what you’re thinking. You’re only a child. But here’swhere we bargain, you see. If you keep it safe, I can give you the power to make sure you are safe forever, and no one can hurt you again.”
No one could hurt them again? “How?”
Osalor stood up. “I will give you magic.”
And then he vanished.
He wasn’t there. No shadow fell on the ground; no ripple of bent light obscured their view. Saeldian hopped to their feet and turned in a circle, looking for the elf—no, thearchfey—in the shadows.
“Lord Osalor?”
