Mother didn't return until well after dark.
I had begun pacing the floor as if I was the parent and she the wayward child. My mind started crafting all sorts of dark scenarios that caused my whole body to tense.
What if her foot had fallen into a rabbit hole and her ankle was broken?
What if she'd been kidnapped by strangers?
What if she'd been attacked by drunken villagers?
What if, what if, what if?
When the door finally opened, I rushed into her arms. "Mama, where were you?"
She looked down at me in surprise. "I was at the festival, silly. Where else would I be?"
I tried to control my emotions, but they overflowed like the riverbanks in the spring. "I thought you were hurt," I said with tears welling up in my eyes.
She chuckled and smoothed my wild hair. "I was perfectly safe, Tiff. The village is different now that the Smitta are here."
I frowned at the mention of those people. "Are they staying?"
"Smitta Farlin will be staying for the foreseeable future," Mother acknowledged. "I believe his companions will be moving on to other villages in the area."
I cringed. "I don't like him."
Mother's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Why?"
I buried my face into her shoulder. "He doesn't seem nice."
She laughed again. "You've only seen him that one time," she reminded me. "You can't tell anything about someone just from that."
"Oh, yes, I can," I muttered.
Her voice became firm. "T'phani, you shouldn't judge people by their appearance," she scolded. "If anyone should understand this, it's you."
I stepped back to face her. "It has nothing to do with the way that he looks," I protested.
Mother waved her hand dismissively. "I have been working in the village for a while now, and I've seen the changes since he arrived. I know what I'm talking about."
"But-"
"It's time for bed, Theophana," she cut me off.
We went to sleep without any further discussion, and the next morning she was terse with me as well. Mother returned for the last day of the festival, and I declared I wouldn't go.
"You can choose to miss out on the fun if you wish," she shrugged.
I watched her walk away with a glare. "As if you're having fun making flatbread all day," I growled.
In a fit of pique, I dressed in my brightest clothing and shook my hair to look even wilder than usual.
"I'm going to spend the day with Budding," I announced to the empty house.
The walk to the forest helped to lift my mood. The morning air was crisp and the flowers were vibrant. It was difficult for me to be angry when I could feel the flow of life all around me. My disposition improved even more as I approached the hut and saw a dark, angular figure.
"Min, you're back!"
I ran up to the hoak and swept him into a hug.
I'd never touched him before, so I wasn't prepared for the rough texture of his skin. It was like hugging a rock that was warm and flexible.
"Let me go, let me go," he squawked.
I set him down with a grin. He brushed himself off, but he only looked mildly irritated. "Muddy child," he muttered half-heartedly.
Budding appeared at the door of the hut, smiling down at the two of us. "I see you have tired of the human celebration."
I pursed my lips. "It was fun for a while," I admitted, "but it didn't last. I didn't like what the Smitta were saying."
Budding's eyes widened. "The Followers of Purity are in the village?"
I gaped at her. "How do you know about them?"
Min snorted. "Anyone who has had to deal with their influence isn't likely to forget."
"We have heard stories," Budding explained. "Travelers warn of their growing presence."
"I'd never heard of them before the festival," I admitted.
Budding nodded. "There's no reason why you would have, living among humans. However, information on dangers to the magical community is always shared. We may not always get along, but we know we must protect each other from humans."
I felt a twinge of guilt for the part of me that was human. I knew that I had never participated in harming magical beings—in fact, I'd been the recipient of their hatred—but I still felt that somehow I was guilty by association.
Budding noticed the expression on my face, and she reached out to touch my cheek. "You have no share in the blame, little one," she assured me. "There are many humans and part-humans that are friends to our kind."
"Just not those fanatics," Min added with a sneer.
I grasped Budding's hand. "Are you in danger with them here?"
She cocked her head to the side. "No," she answered slowly. "Not at this time."
That didn't put me at ease.
"Will you be in danger later?" I pressed.
A small smile touched her lips. "I cannot see the future."
I made an exasperated noise at her evasion. I tugged on a lock of my hair as I continued to fret. "Maybe it would be safer for you to go back to the mountain."
Min gave a harsh laugh. "Trust me, Tiff, if the Followers of Purity decide to take action, even the mountain won't be far enough away to hide from them."
"I wish they'd go away," I moaned.
Budding sighed softly. "Well, wishes will do no good without a fae on your side."
That caught my attention immediately. "Fae can grant wishes?"
My teacher laughed. "They can, but that doesn't mean that they will. They feed on the desire and obsession in others, so they need a steady stream of petitioners."
I settled down on the ground, leaning against the water barrel. "I want to learn more about all the magical beings," I told her. "It's so interesting."
"You wouldn't be the only one pursuing that line of study," Budding replied. "There are many great scholars who have made it their life's work."
"Fae feed on desire and kags feed on disease," I mused. "Tiernan feed on nature. Do all magical beings have something like that?"
"Not just magical beings," came an unexpected voice from the shadows of the hut. "All living things."
I jumped to my feet, backing away in alarm. "Who's there?"
Budding moved to the side, allowing the newcomer to pass through. He shied away from direct sunlight but was easy enough to see in the shade of the trees.
He looked like a human adult, but he was extremely pale and somewhat gaunt. The dark color of his eyes and hair was a stark contrast to the rest of his features. He was extremely handsome, but his sharp and prominent teeth made him look dangerous.
"This is Shin," Budding introduced him. "He's a kag. I had Mineral search him out to come and teach Tsuki."
I bowed politely. "It's nice to meet you. My name is Tiff."
Shin smiled. "A well-mannered child," he commented to Budding. "One wouldn't guess that she'd been raised by humans."
The tiernan nodded. "She's been fortunate."
I tried to smooth some of the wrinkles from my skirt. "I think Tsuki is still with his family," I offered. "His father won't leave until tomorrow."
"There is no rush," Shin reassured. "Since I have decided to come to teach the akagine, I will not leave until it is done."
"Since you are here," Budding said to me, "we should spend the time wisely. How about we go to the focal point and practice?"
We started walking, but I noticed that Shin didn't follow us. "Is he…?"
"Kags are nocturnal," Min explained. "Also, he's traveled a long distance to be here. He needs rest."
"Oh," I responded. "Will Tsuki need to come here at night to have his lessons?"
Budding shook her head. "It isn't safe for him to make the trip in the dark. Holding the lessons first thing in the morning would be best."
I reached to brush my fingers on the rough bark of the trees I passed. "I guess that makes sense. What kinds of things will he be learning?"
"How would we know?" Min demanded. "Neither of us has ever been a kag."
I made a face at him and tossed a stick at his head. "Are you saying you don't know anything about other species?"
He caught the stick with a deft motion and broke it in half. "No, that's not what I'm saying," he retorted.
"You just said that you don't."
"Your understanding of language seems to be questionable."
"Your understanding of anything seems questionable!"
"If that's the case, then why bother asking me? Only a fool would ask a question of someone who can't answer."
"So you admit that you can't answer any questions!"
"That's not what I said!"
We continued bickering all the way to the focal point. I wouldn't admit it, but I'd missed Min and I was glad that he had returned. Budding seemed amused by our arguing, so she didn't attempt to put an end to it. Once we arrived at our destination, we naturally quieted down.
"Today I want to begin teaching you how to extend your senses," Budding said. "You mentioned in the past that you had the ability to locate water, and this is how you do that."
"Extending my senses?" I repeated.
"Yes," she answered. "Your ability to connect with plant life is complex. Not only can you share energy, but you can also share knowledge."
My brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I understand."
Her expression was kind. "Don't worry, I'll explain."
The three of us sat down on the mossy ground, getting comfortable among the bushes and wildflowers.
"Plants are not sentient in the way that we are, but they are alive and aware. They have their own forms of communication, tricks for survival, generational knowledge, even their own communities."
I nodded. All of that made sense to me.
Budding went on. "A plant has to know where to find water, or it cannot survive. Therefore, if you are connecting your mind with the plants around you, you also know where to find water."
My eyes widened. "Of course!"
She grinned at my excitement. "You can use this same ability to sense certain kinds of danger or to know where cover can be found. You could use it for foraging or to know if there are any animals close by."
"That's amazing," I exclaimed. "It's too bad that plants don't have eyes or ears. I could spy on people."
Min shuddered. "What a horrifying thought."
"It wouldn't seem strange if plants had always had eyes and ears," I defended.
Budding chuckled. "True. However, that is exactly why you should be wary around animals. Some beings have the ability to use them as spies."
I sat up straight. "Really? Could I learn how to do that?"
"No," she replied.
"Why would you want to?" Min demanded.
"Why wouldn't you want to?" I asked in return, a grin spreading across my face.
Budding gestured with her hand, bringing my attention back to her. "Looking for water is something that requires little thought. If there's water in a forest, many plants know about it so it's easier to find. The same goes for if there's a big danger, such as a wildfire. It's almost like having dozens of plants screaming at your mind, so it's hard to ignore."
I picked some flowers and started braiding them into a crown. "What about smaller things? Things like a single person walking through the forest, or a campfire."
"That is what I want to help you to learn today," Budding said. "You can learn to detect such things, but it takes practice. My granddam was so skilled that she could follow the path of a bee as it pollinated."
I frowned. "Granddam?"
Budding made a dismissive motion. "Tiernan don't have the same family units as humans. You would say, my grandmother."
"Focus," Min reprimanded, poking my arm.
"Ow," I complained, even though it didn't hurt all that much.
"Don't whine," he snipped at me.
"Your finger is like a splinter," I accused.
Min rolled his eyes. "Well, I am an earth hoak. I'm practically made of stone."
I reached over and pinched his nose. "You don't feel like a rock."
He glared as he slapped my hand away. "I said practically, not literally."
Budding snapped her fingers a couple of times. "Tiff, that's enough teasing. I want you to close your eyes and meditate for a few minutes. It will help you to prepare your mind for connecting with the life around you."
I obeyed immediately, closing my eyes and relaxing my body. Budding had used her serious tone of voice, so I knew not to play around anymore.
I'd gotten better at meditating throughout our lessons. In fact, I'd found that I was starting to enjoy it. I shut out all distractions, focusing my thoughts on the flow of magic that I could feel around me. They were like complex air patterns that glowed gold in my mind's eye. Being in the focal point made them easier to see and more energetic in their motions.
I breathed deeply.
The gossamer threads of magic seemed so light that my initial thought had been that I could breathe them in. I soon learned that they couldn't be moved that way. No matter how I waved my hands or blew out my breath, they wouldn't shift or break. It took a different sort of effort on my part to make that happen.
Budding's voice continued instruction. "Once you feel your connection deepen, imagine those threads coming together to form a cord between you and your surroundings. Pick a specific plant and attach the cord to it."
We had discovered that I was a visual learner. I did much better with my lessons when I could imagine what I was trying to accomplish as a physical action.
I chose the tree behind me, imagining that a golden cord stretched from my chest to its trunk.
"Be gentle," Budding warned. "It won't work if you force it."
Just as she'd said, my initial attempt rebounded as if going against an invisible shield. There was a tangible jolt in my chest as I felt the repercussions.
I rubbed my sternum with a pout, then tried again.
I moved at a slower pace, but didn't succeed. I tried again, even slower than before. It still rebounded.
"Why isn't it working?" I complained.
"Slow is not the same as gentle," Budding reminded me.
I pulled a face at no one in particular, closing my eyes once more. "Gentle, gentle," I muttered to myself as I began the exercise again.