"Wait. Where's Cyrel?"
Artun jerked his chin toward the cliff edge without looking up from inspecting a nick in one of his daggers. "Over there. Been staring at the sun since she landed. Haven't seen anyone do that since my uncle went mad from drinking bad wine."
Adom turned and spotted her silhouette against the bright sky. She stood still at the very edge of the cliff, her face tilted upward.
Good. It seemed like she was having a moment, so he did not reach out.
Now that the immediate panic had passed, Adom actually looked at where they'd ended up. The landscape was familiar—rolling hills, distant farmhouses, the characteristic stone walls of the Borealis duchy. They were back in Law's territory, standing in the exact spot where that strange tree had been planted years ago.
Adom turned toward the voice and spotted a familiar figure making his way up the hill. Ben moved with the careful pace of someone whose knees had been reminding him about his age for the past decade, but his grip on the walking stick was firm and his eyes were sharp as they scanned the group of strangers gathered around his tree.
The old farmer stopped about twenty feet away, close enough to talk but far enough to run if these turned out to be the wrong sort of visitors.
"Ben," Adom called out, raising one hand in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. "It's me. Adom."
Ben squinted, leaning forward slightly. His grip on the walking stick shifted. "Adom? That you, boy?"
"It's me."
The old farmer's posture relaxed by exactly one degree. "Well, I'll be. You've grown some since I last saw you. Though that was what, two months back?" His eyes drifted over the rest of the group. "And you've brought friends."
Adom glanced at his companions.
They looked exactly like what they were--a group of people who'd recently escaped from something unpleasant and weren't entirely sure they were safe yet.
"It's a long story," Adom said. "And I'm sorry for just... barging in like this. Could we talk? I promise we're not here to cause trouble."
Ben studied him for a long moment. Whatever he saw in Adom's face seemed to satisfy him, because his shoulders dropped another notch.
"Long story, eh?" Ben's mouth twitched. "Well, those are usually the interesting kind. Though interesting and good aren't always the same thing."
"I know. And I'll understand if you want us to move along. But..."
"But you look like you've been through something that used its boots on you pretty thoroughly." Ben shifted his weight, considering. "And you're holding something that's glowing, which suggests this story of yours might be longer than most."
Adom looked down at the phoenix egg. The flames had dimmed to barely visible wisps, but there was still that soft pulsing light beneath the shell.
"Yeah. About that."
Ben was quiet for a moment, his eyes moving from face to face. Bob managed a weak smile. Thorgen nodded curtly. Artun touched two fingers to his forehead in a casual salute. Zara simply waited.
And Cyrel was still looking at the sun.
"Right then," Ben said finally. "Come on down to the house. We'll put some tea on and you can tell me this long story of yours. Just..." He pointed his walking stick at the group. "Don't do anything magical near my chickens. They're still upset about the last time someone weaved spells around here."
He turned and started making his way back down the hill, calling over his shoulder, "And try not to freak out the goats. They've got delicate constitutions."
*****
Ben looked pleased. "What about you, lad?" he asked Adom.
"I need to get back to the academy," Adom said, touching the egg gently. "Need to get this somewhere safe."
"That the glowing thing you've been carrying?"
"It's... a rare bird. Sort of."
Ben raised an eyebrow but didn't press. "Fair enough. Academy's got good protections, I hear."
"It does." Adom stood.
"You take care of yourself," Ben said, gripping Adom's shoulder briefly.
"Thank you."
Cyrel still sat by the window, perfectly still.
He'd have questions for her eventually. But not tonight.
Adom stepped away from Ben's farmhouse and looked up at the darkening sky. A strider would take two hours to get back to Xerkes. But flying...
He inhaled slowly, then exhaled.
White energy erupted around him like controlled lightning. It wrapped around his arms, his legs, settled into his bones with that familiar rush of power. He looked down at his hands, watching the energy dance just beneath his skin.
Definitely needed to have a conversation with Biggins tomorrow.
He tried placing the phoenix egg into his inventory, but the system immediately rejected it.
[You cannot put live creatures into the inventory.]
"Right," he muttered, sighing. He turned back toward the tree where the dryads now lived. "I'll be back soon."
The leaves rustled in response, a gentle whisper that might have been words if he'd been close enough to hear them.
Adom checked his pocket. Zuni was still there, a small warm weight against his ribs, breathing steadily in sleep. He tightened his grip on the phoenix egg against his chest and slowly lifted off the ground.
The flight spell felt different now. More controlled. Less like being flung through the air and more like actually flying. His balance had improved dramatically since those first terrifying attempts weeks ago.
He rose higher, the farmhouse shrinking below him, and then shot forward through the night sky.
The flight to Xerkes took ten minutes.
Ten minutes of wind rushing past his face, of the landscape blurring beneath him, of the phoenix egg pulsing steadily against his chest like a second heartbeat. The academy's towers appeared ahead, their magical lights cutting through the darkness.
He landed in the courtyard with considerably more grace than usual, though his legs still wobbled slightly as the white energy faded. Exhaustion hit him. The past few days felt like they'd aged him months.
The main gates were still open—they always were, for students returning from late studies or evening activities. The guards nodded at him as he passed, recognizing him despite his disheveled appearance.
By the time he reached his dormitory, Adom was practically stumbling with fatigue. He knocked on his door.
"Who's there?" came Sam's voice from inside.
"It's me."
"Adom?" The voice rose in surprise. "Dude!"
Footsteps hurried across the room. The door swung open, revealing Sam's worried face. He took one look at Adom and winced.
"Ooh. That bad?"
Adom nodded. "Hello, Sam."
"Come in, come in." Sam stepped aside, ushering him into their shared room. "You look like you've been—what's that?"
He was staring at the phoenix egg, which had begun glowing softly again in response to being inside the academy's protective wards.
"It's a phoenix," Adom said simply.
Sam's eyes went wide. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
Sam opened his mouth, clearly bursting with questions, then seemed to register Adom's exhausted expression. "You know what, I'd really like to hear about the Fae Realm and everything, but you look like you need to rest. Like, for real."
"I'll tell you everything tomorrow," Adom promised, grateful for his friend's perceptiveness.
"Sure thing." Sam moved to his desk, putting away what looked like a letter. "Just get some sleep, okay?"
Adom noticed his name on the envelope. "Is that for me?"
"Oh, this?" Sam held up the letter. "It's for both of us, actually. From Morgana."
A smile broke across Adom's tired face. "How's she doing?"
"Apparently she left the Veyshari. She's traveling around the world now, seeing the sights, having adventures." Sam's tone suggested he found this simultaneously admirable and terrifying.
"I hope she's not in trouble," Adom said, settling onto his bed with the phoenix egg still clutched to his chest. "For some reason, she seems to be looking for it."