“Kell.”
Lorzok’s voice. Lorzok’s hand on his shoulder.
“How can I help?”
Lorzok couldn’t help. He’d never been here. He didn’t have a point to build a path to. Kell had to get them to a place that wasn’t the truewild between the domains. He was the only one who could.
So he had to pick up his foot and walk straight for Verandil. He had to clear his mind of doubt. He had to clear his mind of the fear that he had been alone all this time. He had to forget that everyone he loved might not be there to be found.
“What if I can’t find them?”
He’d meant to whisper it. But Jubilee made a noise rich with sympathy, and Saeldian’s teeth clicked together to keep from saying anything.You haven’t even tried,they had said before they had fled to Osalor’s domain, and they were right. He hadn’t.
Because then he would know.
Lorzok spoke again. “If you fear that too much, take us to Eightbridge, who welcomed those needing refuge from the Hungry War.”
Kell fought to stop trembling. “I never should have stopped walking. I was on the way, and I stopped—”
“Eightbridge,” Lorzok said. “Think of Eightbridge. You know what the spire looks like. Think of it, and step.”
Kell shut his eyes and stepped.
He could feel it. Something changed, but what?
Saeldian let out a gusty sigh.
“The audience’s input was not requested.”
“I’m going to applaud you anyway,” Saeldian said. “Open your eyes. You already did it. Can’t you hear it?”
Hear what?
Water. Watersong, slow and lazy, and the smell of water and lilies on stones rising from under their feet—
Kell opened his eyes.
The bridge was the same stone arch, but now it crossed a ditchwhere cattails nodded as flying sprites landed and took off, chasing one another.
“How—”
The wood remained behind them. Ahead of them, a slate-slab road wide enough that two wagons could pass freely divided the wild wood on one side and the deliberately tended forest on the other.
And in the distance, a call of horns sang the hour, joined by bells and drums. They were close. A quarter hour at most. Kell held out the bag of yolk mushrooms, and it shifted ever so slightly in the direction of the horns.
He nearly dropped them. They were pulling toward the person he’d picked them for. Verandil was alive.
Kell whooped and dashed off the bridge and onto the road, but when he did, everything changed again. The road was shell and stone, crunching a little under his boots. The forest became an orchard, green boughs heavy with green fruit, and the hoursong finally ended with three held notes.
Behind him, Saeldian huffed out a relieved sigh.
Kell turned around in time to see the wood they emerged from melt away to reveal more orchard. The stone bridge vanished, leaving a split log bridge in its place. Wild rose blossoms and sun-warmed grasses scented the air, nearly covering the smell of a cart horse that had recently passed by.
Nothing looked like it had a moment before. This wasn’t what it looked like at all! How was it all so different—
“Oh, good show, Sheld,” Jubilee said.
“I’m happy with the results myself.”
