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I didn’t know what his reaction meant, only that it meant something. They didn’t look much different in age, but definitely in height. My friend’s forehead only reached the stranger’s mouth.

Their staring contest lasted a beat too long. Lyrik chuckled, ruffled Nicu’s hair, and sauntered away, casting one more perplexed glance over his shoulder at him.

By the time the moment ended, Aire had already collected his swords and my hatchet. I should have thought to snatch my weapon, but too much was happening at once, and the knight would have confiscated it from me anyway. Even while mobile, he remained vigilant about that.

The stranger led the way, nudging his head. “Lemme show you around.”

***

On the ground, a few bridges arched over the stream, the only way to reach some of the trees. We crossed one and hiked up the spine of an oak, the planks creaking under our weight.

Aire communicated in low tones with Nicu. With the tension over, he seemed more shaken than our friend.

No matter where Aire’s thoughts led him, he acknowledged them without fleeing. I recalled that turmoiled expression when I’d communicated my destination here and his tension when we’d arrived.

He also kept touching his ring, brushing his thumb over the surface as he glanced about the area. What kind of vows had he spoken to his wife or husband? What did he whisper to them in dark?

The higher we got, the more I noticed. Frameworks. Scrollwork. Joinery. Every fastening had been trimmed from lumber, each one exposed like ornamentation. The carpenters and builders of this colony had been proud of their craft.

Mother would have been besotted.

The old version of her would have.

My grin faded. Worrying if she was okay or smashing her work to shambles did me no good. I pushed those thoughts away. Along with one memory in particular.

The steps leveled out on to a deck. Up closer now, the foundations were more rickety than they’d first appeared, the houses blanched and worn from age and disuse.

Still, the stranger had done a decent job nurturing the place, considering he’d been the only one volunteering for the job. As we passed a small bungalow, I spotted mounted rakes through an open shutter.

As the squatter strode through a covered bridge, the queasy vision of my arms tied in strings wormed into my mind. The fox mavens snickering. Aire staring up at me. A useless, lifeless marionette.

When the bridge dipped, Nicu bounded ahead of us. Aire watched him, then offered me his arm. The gesture made me feel awkward and strangely bashful, a sensation that I didn’t have the foggiest clue what to do with. I could manage the crossing myself, but I grabbed him anyway, feeling his skin warm like sunlight.

When the bridge flattened and opened itself to the sky again, he released me and kept going. I watched his floating back, the cloak flapping behind him, his palm grazing the leaves surrounding us. One trembled and landed on his shoulder, and he held it up to the muted light, admiring it.

I spotted bird feeders and bird houses nestled in the cluster. My throat clogged as I thought of Punk.

Lyrik drawled, “The bungalows up ahead should be fine for you. This way.”

Not this way. Not when Aire stopped beside an open door.

I plowed into him. Nicu plowed into me.

Aire strode inside the room, with us trailing after him.

“Hey.” Swearing, Lyrik pursued our nosy trio. “Off limits.”

I could see why, based on the shelves of glass vessels and beakers. The bowls and ewers. That jar of tree sap. Those ground herbs. The colored liquids. The pieces of iron.

A diamond pattern of wood tiles covered the floor, surrounding a hearth and a pot-bellied cauldron. It smelled like mischief and make-believe in here. Like stimulants.

“Wow,” I said.

“It’s a work in progress,” Lyrik said. “I dabble in the fine arts.”

Nicu’s mouth crinkled. “You rot and tickle minds?”

“You’re a druggist,” Aire judged.