Twelve

Once they were back in the house, Roy found that the fog of desire and excitement had lifted enough for him to be able to actually think about asking questions.

"Syl'fair," Roy said with a speculative lilt.

"Yes Roy," Syl'fair answered, knowing that she would have to start explaining herself.

"Umm, about what we've been doing. You said it's sometimes for fun, and you hinted that it's sometimes not. Then you did that spitting thing in the grove..."

"I think we need to start thinking of it as The Grove," Syl'fair replied, and Roy could hear the capital letters when she said it. "We have started a sequence of events that are important, more important than you realise."

"Why don't you tell me what we've started then..."

"You know how going out affected me, what you don't know is why," Syl'fair started at what Roy thought was a tangent, "Well, what I slowly came to realise is that none of my kind, or any kind other than humans and animals, was left out of Dreamtime. That was a huge shock to me. I couldn't believe how little magic was left in the world, just millions and millions of humans and all that stone. All the beautiful forests gone and from what you tell me, a lot of what is left horribly polluted. My job, and that of my sisters, has always been to husband the forests and the fields, nurture the trees and plants and work towards keeping the balance. We are part of that balance, and concerned with ensuring that it all works. It seems that things have gotten completely out of control."