The Heart of Hyndorin: 7

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We found Wyr furiously waving my Sunstone Wand around: poking the door with its tip, trying to slot it into those twin keyholes I'd noticed, drawing invisible symbols over the stone surface, and occasionally shaking it in irritation. We watched this display in silence for a few seconds, with (at least on my part) great enjoyment.

'Hi!' I said after a moment.

Wyr jumped, and spun around. 'Damnit,' he growled. 'You can't have these back.' He stood braced, as though he would withstand our combined attack by force of will alone.

'All right,' I said mildly. For the moment at least, I did not seem to need them.

I tested this by flicking my fingers over my hair. Its pink hue did not fade, but it was joined by six or seven other shades, until I had a shimmering rainbow mane.

I gave this a casual toss, while I thought about what precisely to do to Wyr.

'Ves,' murmured Jay. 'I hate to be a downer, but I don't think a change of hair colour is going to help much here.'

'I'd think you would know better by now,' I said.

It took him a second to realise that I hadn't retrieved my colour-changing ring from Wyr's possession. It still adorned our unwilling comrade's thumb.

I caught the sideways glance he threw at me then, the narrowing of the eyes.

By then I had decided. 'This is nothing personal,' I said to Wyr. 'Or, not very much. But you're in the way.'

'Wait—' said Wyr, as I stretched out my hand.

Too late. An instant later, a small tree grew where Wyr had been standing. It only rose as high as my waist, but its slim branches were laden with the cherry-scented apples we had seen back down in the valley below.

'Hrm,' I said, frowning at it. 'I was going for pancakes.'

'You...' Jay said, before words apparently failed him. 'You've turned him into a tree.'

'It could at least have been a pancake tree,' I said, sadly. 'I need some practice.'

Jay took a big step back from me, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. 'Not on me!'

'No, that would be silly,' I agreed.

'That would be silly?' Jay yelped.

'Never underestimate a woman with rainbow hair,' murmured Alban.

'Noted,' said Jay.

I noticed something else. The smell of fresh cherries emanating from the Wyr-tree was creating a sensation I hadn't experienced since Vale: hunger.

I was hungry again!

And... and tired. Tired like a woman who had sat in a magick-warping chair all night while her companions slumbered around her, too wired to close her eyes.

Damnit. Poor timing.

'Anyway,' said Miranda. 'How long will he stay like that?'

I looked down at my handiwork. 'I have no idea.'

'Perhaps we'd better get on, then?'

'Right.' I held up my right hand, in which I wielded the double-pronged implement of (hopefully) opening, and intoned, 'Fork.' I turned to test my theory as to where it went.

'Ah,' I said. 'Alban. Perhaps you'd better do this part.' I handed him the fork.

Alban, troll-tall and able, therefore, to reach the keyhole, carefully inserted the fork-key into the twin holes. It slotted in easily, a perfect fit.

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