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“Move to the center of the clearing,” Caer said.

I obeyed, the same magical display as the trees flooding the grass.

“Aidan will not be able to follow us into the glade,” Caer added.

Just like the dream version of this place, then?

Cool. Loved to hear it.

Reaching the middle of the clearing, my skin prickled, giving me the impression that something was hiding around me, the faint trace of roses and blackberries tickling my nostrils.

“Say it,” Caer pressed me.

I lifted my hands, my palms heating as I said, “Open Glade.”

The elvish magic shot up in twin arcs away from me, falling back down into the edge of the clearing. A burst of hot wind rushed me, snatching my breath. It felt like something was thumping in my head, while the rose and blackberry scent intensified, and then the veil lifted, revealing the glade.

The trees seemed to grow bigger around us, four long trails of blackberry bushes cutting across the glade in an X shape. Different than the single line of bushes in the dream version.

Five white rose bushes grew in beds dotted around the clearing, each one beside the five wooden huts with thatched roofs that drew themselves to life out of thin air. Windchimes dangled beside each hut door, chiming merrily away.

Ah, so that explained where the windchime sound came from.

On the far side of the clearing stood a different building. One with a pointed, tiled roof beside a large pond, a veranda hanging over the water.

Butterflies and birds appeared, getting down to business.

My belly rumbled, desperate for a hearty slice of caramel shortbread. The smell of the blackberries got my appetite up.

“At last,” Caer said. “We’re here. Elvish magic will flow again.”

I moved forward a few steps to take it all in, rubbing my stomach.

“Once Lia has carved the disk for the faith-breaking spell, we can bring more Carvers here to make more disks.” She sighed. “There was once a time many Druids and Carvers occupied this space. And they will again. It hurts to see how low Aidan’s vile scheming has brought us.”

In the dream version of the place, there were elves going about their tasks. A reflection of Caer’s hopes, clearly.

“It will be awesome,” I agreed, heading over to inspect some blackberries.

“I need to tell Lia exactly what to carve.”

I rolled my shoulders in response to a tremor of feeling. “In her head?”

“Yes. The song will connect me to her so I can give instructions on the runes she is to carve.”

“Cool.” I’d gone a bit numb.

“Here, Carvers can summon the wood into their hands. All of the tools she will need are in the Carving House.”

“Pointy roof,” I muttered.

“Yes. Now sing.”

I did as I was told, keeping everything in the chained box. The song lasted all of thirty seconds, a few rose petals falling, nothing else.

When it was over, Lia stared at me for a few beats, then nodded, heading over to the Carving House.

“Allow her to draw upon the power of this place,” Caer said. “The disk will be ready soon, but Lia must be allowed to have the space to absorb the magic, to connect with the truth of her identity that has been sealed away for so long.”