Saeldian had heard a hundred tales like this. But Kell’s memories of a merry world where the magical and the peculiar would help you with chores if you could strike a good bargain were true. Saeldian had heard the grief and loss when Kell reminisced.
He’d yearned to come back here. Here he was, and everything about him was drinking in the moment when he had come home, where he belonged, where the family the urchins swore was out there was really here and ready to love him. It hurt in the place Saeldian’s own yearning for home should have been.
Exhaustion crashed into Saeldian’s senses again. They were here. No turning back. It wasn’t as bad as they feared, but they swayed with fatigue. “Kell, I don’t know how you think you’ll find me a place to sleep, but I really, really need it.”
The moment of Kell’s homecoming snapped. The almiraj hopped off Kell’s lap and returned to Lorzok. Kell had a weary glance for Saeldian’s interruption but untangled from kneeling to stand on his feet.
“Right. We need a place to camp.”
“Can’t we just camp here?” Saeldian was too tired to stop the whine. “I’ve got nothing left.”
“We’re not even sure where we’re going,” Kell said. “Let alone where we are. We’re in the truewild—”
“I’m serious. I need tosleep,Kell. I haven’t needed to sleep in months.”
A warm hand gripped their shoulder. Lorzok stood near, and Saeldian could smell his magic. Green, growing things, the way the world smelled after the rain or in a clearing of freshly fallen snow inviting anyone who saw it to play. A little twig disappeared as he conjured up a handful of fruit. “Eat this.”
Lorzok presented Saeldian with a sweet red berry. Saeldian eyed it. “Does your magic always smell like that?”
“Smell like what?”
“Like…how it smells when you open the window and you just have to stop to smell it.”
Lorzok looked pleased. “I’ve never heard it described that way, but it feels right. Do you always smell magic?”
“No,” Saeldian said. “It’s just now, in this place. What is this magic berry? Will it give me a full night’s sleep?”
“No, but it will help you. Take your time.”
Saeldian had never eaten a berry like this. Sweet, but it tingled in their mouth, and things brightened a little. Their limbs felt a little less heavy, and the sense of the smell of his magic sharpened. What would their own magic smell like?
Perfume, probably, and sugary dessert. Beeswax and oil blended with pigment? They’d find out after some rest. It wouldn’t take long for Kell to find a campsite. No one would expect them to go rummaging for firewood. Which was good, because—
“Do you feel better?” Lorzok asked.
“I’m still exhausted.”
“Do you feel happier?” Lorzok pressed. “It is very important that you feel optimistic right now.”
Saeldian accepted the skin of water Lorzok offered. It was warm, but Saeldian’s polite sip became a quaff. They’d been so thirsty that they drank nearly a third of it.
“Sorry.”
“More where that came from. Have another berry.”
Gladly. It had an acidic note, and the flesh was firm but sweet. Saeldian stood up a little straighter. “Why do I need to feel optimistic?”
“The unshaped Feywild—the truewild—can be shaped by expectations and needs. If you need a place to camp, you can find it, but if you expect disaster, you will get it. If you feel happiness, or fear—”
“It’ll become what I want,” Saeldian said. “I think I made that tree an oak tree.”
Lorzok followed Saeldian’s pointing finger. “It is an oak tree. I would know.”
Tired as they were, that was still a cute joke. “I mean I looked at it and wondered if it was, and it changed,” Saeldian said.
“That is exactly what I mean,” Lorzok said. “The unshaped Feywild responds to what you expect. That is why you need to be—”
“Optimistic,” Saeldian said. “I expect we’ll find a nice place to camp.”
