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Baltisse sighed dramatically and leant her weight on the countertop. “Very well,” she relented. “I will accompany you. But when we go out there and find nothing worth finding, I’ll expect you to heed my advice in future.”

Yennes grinned, but said nothing to provoke the mage as she readied herself to journey.

“I hope you neglected to eat breakfast,” Baltisse said, gathering a small hand-woven swag.

Yennes frowned. “Why?” She had not turned down a single piece of food since arriving a little over a month ago.

“I know how you hate to waste a meal.”

Moments later, Yennes’ hands were splayed against new territory and her stomach turned up every morsel it held. Her limbs, newly decompressed, popped at the joints.“Fuck,”she gasped, overcome by another wave of nausea. “You didn’t think to mention how very unpleasant that would be?” She closed her eyes as they swam.

“If I had, you wouldn’t have done it, would you?”

Yennes groaned. “I’ve changed my mind. I do not wish to learn how to fold.”

“That’s a relief,” Baltisse muttered. “Perhaps you’ll cease pestering me. Though if you wish to see that bay again, you will need to find a way across the river, and you swim like a helpless infant.”

“I’ve no desire to return to that bay,” Yennes said, more firmly than was her habit of recent days.

Baltisse did not refute it. Instead, she pressed her lips into a thin line, and averted her eyes. “We shall see.”

Once Yennes had reclaimed enough composure, Baltisse guided her wordlessly through woodland. They walked a weaving, trailless path for a time, and the mage did not bother to check if Yennes followed. Though the sound of her mind was likely telling enough.

The land overwhelmed her. Its ground dipped and rose with the interweaving of tree roots, thickening into trunks with bent backs and hollow stomachs. Trees that leaned over one another, their foliage draping over her as she walked beneath. And the colour… the colour was everywhere. Newly formed buds sprouted all around, some opening as Baltisse passed by, drinking whatever energy she passed to them through the proximity of her fingertips. The mage hummed as she walked and the forest hummed back – a quiet symphony Yennes could only gawk at. Despite the questions that brewed, Yennes could not bring herself to break the spell.

Eventually, the forest parted to reveal a well-worn path. The dirt compacted here, strange trails marring the dust.

“What travels here?” Yennes asked. The marks were unbroken, thin, accompanied by round, almost fully circular tracks. They did not resemble an animal or person she recognised.

“Wagons, mostly,” Baltisse answered. “Horse-drawn.”

“Oh,” Yennes answered. She did not bother to tell Baltisse that she could not picture a horse, though she’d heard it mentioned before.

The mage sighed. “There is much you will not recognise.” The words were somehow foreboding.

When the sun had reached the middle of the sky and Yennes’ borrowed chemise and cotton blouse were moist with sweat, she began to wish for rest.

“We’ve almost arrived,” Baltisse answered, reading the direction of her thoughts. “No point in stopping now.”

“I had not realised there was a destination in mind.” Yennes frowned. Mother above, it was hot. She had not known the sun could grow quite so biting.

“The temperature will peak in several weeks,” Baltisse answered. “The season has only just turned. You will be glad for the proximity of the ocean then.”

“I don’t plan to see any ocean again in my lifetime,” Yennes quipped, but she did not continue to badger the mage with questions of their travel. The forest had begun to thin, heating the air she breathed. The wagon path widened. Soon, Yennes could see an end to the trees’ border. Beyond it, wide open fields awaited. They stepped to the forest’s edge and looked out, catching their breath.

It was an ocean of long, golden grass stalk, bending to the will of the breeze. Rolling hills of it, stretching in every direction.

“Wheat,” Baltisse answered before she could ask.

Yennes could only stare. How could such an impossibly vast place exist? And yet no one guarded it. No one kept watch.

“It belongs to the Queen,” Baltisse answered, starting forward again. “And no one would dare take it from her, lest they wish to go without their share… or their hands.”

Yennes followed Baltisse out into the wheat fields. “This Queen,” she began, pressing stalks to the side with hesitant movements. “Have you ever met her?”

Baltisse chuckled darkly. “Those like me know better than to find ourselves before a royal.”

Yennes pressed her lips together. Baltisse had told her as much before. “You said the Queen was intolerant of your kind?”