‘Will you stop squirming like that? I can’t tell if you’re fidgeting, or just . . . itchy.’ He didn’t mention the kind of itchiness her movements conveyed, and wondered if she knew, herself. He doubted it. Hoping to distract her, he said, ‘Are you hungry?’

To his relief, her urge to flee seemed to have passed, and she nodded. As they shared a meal taken from the saddlebags, he noticed her intense discomfort at being in such close quarters with so many, especially the Elf soldiers, whom he knew from their past conversations and her reactions, evoked in her habitual feelings of suspicion, distrust, and fear. He remembered her mentioning that in the past, her very survival had always meant remaining safely hidden from their eyes. Riding now in their presence, Ralph could see, was a sore trial for her. But he could also see that, perhaps aided by the appearance of her strange attire, or perhaps because he accompanied her, the Elves seemed to accept her as Ralph’s companion, and paid little attention to her presence.

In the isolation of her own thoughts, Malina realised that Pran had been right about one thing: she was having to become reacquainted with her own world. In many ways it would be easier to deal with circumstances as they arose were she a total stranger: not her expectations, her surroundings, nor herself could be trusted any longer, for even as she had changed, so had her relationship to everything external to her own being. Where is this life taking me? I begin to wonder if I am still truly Pixie, she thought to herself, and without thinking about what she was doing, as though the act came perfectly natural to her, leaned back against Ralph tiredly. Mirrindale! The home of the Thane himself!




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