A shrug ripples through Krivoth’s body and into mine, we’re so closely pressed together. “It’s part of their magic, the ability to travel further than they ought. Pixies have it, too.”

The sprites surround us in a flutter of brightly colored wings and chittering complaints. “You left us!” “Are you going to do more magic?” “You’reourAlmost Elf!”

I can hear the capitol letters of those last words. Almost Elf? Is that what they’re calling me? I fight down a grin.

“I didn’t see you when we left this morning, sorry,” I say.

“It was early. We were sleeping.” The leader hovers in front of my face and points imperiously. “You should have been sleeping, too.”

“That’s what I tried to tell them.” Mist offers one of her wide, feline grins, having doubled back when we stopped. “I’m going to hunt.”

Storm snaps his teeth at the sprite who tries to perch on his horn and grumbles, “I could stand to eat again, too, since I’m stuck carrying such great weight.”

“Oh!” I try to lift from the saddle, but I don’t have any purchase and only push my back even closer to Krivoth’s firm chest.

He growls, “He means me, not you.”

Storm snorts and shakes his head, flipping his mane. “Indeed, I do, orc.”

Krivoth dismounts, lifts me to the ground, and turns his attention to one of the saddlebags.

Immediately, I miss the feel of his touch and don’t quite know what to do with myself. I spin around and pluck a blackberry from the bush, shoving it into my mouth. It bursts in a crunch of seeds and a wash of tart juice.

“No!” the lead sprite cries out. “Not like that!”

A shocked laugh stutters out of me. How can you eat a berry wrong? “Is there some special fae berry-eating ritual I’m not doing?”

“Don’t be silly!” The sprite claps her hands and lets out a shrill whistle. The flock forms a circle in the air right over one of the berry bushes. With more shouted instructions, the entire ring begins to spin as each sprite flies around and around, keeping position versus all the rest. A shimmering bubble forms over the bush, a rainbow of iridescence spinning over its surface in ripples timed to their wing beats. The sprites keep circling, but they also start to dance through the air, their bodies moving in joyful bursts that send more and more color racing over the bubble.

They speed up, and the feel of magic sizzles through the air, tingling over my skin and making my hair dance even though I don’t feel a breeze.

I tear my eyes away for a few seconds to glance at Krivoth, hoping his expression will give me some hint as to what’s happening. But he’s still got his back to me.

A loud cry goes up, and a wash of color and magic explode outward as the bubble bursts into multi-colored drops that fall onto the blackberries like butterfly-wing rain. Each splashes onto fruit, never a leaf. The berries glow, their dark-purple surfaces now dusted with glitter.

The head sprite plucks one from the bush and flies it to me. “Almost Elf, we offer you Faerie Fruit.”

I can hear the capital letters. And the berry looks effing amazing. My mouth waters—I just know it’s going to be the best berryever.

“Taylor, wait!” Krivoth calls out.

Without conscious thought, my hand moves, and I’m chewing, and the most delicious flavor fills my mouth, sweet and tart and magic.

Joy, heady and sharp, sweeps through me, and my feet give a little skip. Another berry crunches between my teeth, and I fling my arms out, my body moving, needing no other music than the magic humming through my veins.

The sprites swirl around me in a cloud of flapping rainbow wings. They dance in the air while I dance on the ground, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is we dance!

“Faerie Fruit,” Storm grumbles. He moves off across the patch of grass to eat at the far side.

Leaving…

“Krivoth!” Laughter ripples out of me as I spin toward Krivoth. “This is fan-freaking-tastic!”

“It’s sprite magic. It’s why the elves favored them and showered them with gifts,” he says. “Which is why they venerate elves.”

A part of me thinks I should store this in my mental wiki, but the rest of me doesn’t care about such boring things. Not when there’s fruit and dancing and joy.

So much joy!