“It should suffice,” the charm woman said.

With the doll cradled in one arm, Drake swung up onto Mandibar. “Until we meet again,” he said. The stallion bounded forward at his command.

“Bye, Drake,” Rachel called, sad to see her protector leaving. He had been her sole companion for weeks.

The charm woman shook a rattle and chanted Edomic words. Rachel had never heard the phrases, but innately sensed the meaning. The words spoke to the animals, releasing them from this area and encouraging them to make their own way to the rendezvous point.

“Can you control animals with Edomic?” Rachel asked as they started northward.

“Not control,” the woman replied. “At best, one can influence. You will find that all life generates natural resistance to Edomic tampering. Speaking broadly, the greater the intelligence, or stronger the will, the more potent the resistance. The usual relationships one could form with domestic animals can be hastened and deepened by proper use of Edomic, and communication becomes much clearer. Influencing wild animals can be significantly more challenging, and exercising compulsion is virtually impossible. I build trust with my pets over time, occasionally inviting them to do my will.”

Rachel had to hold back her mare to avoid outpacing the charm woman. As they moved north, the other donkeys and animals dispersed. “So they’ll just roam and eventually join us at our destination?”

“Essentially,” the charm woman said. “They’re all protected with various tokens that should guide them back to me while helping them avoid the notice of predators. I’ve been on the move like this for decades, so I’ve gained some skill at the relevant enchantments.”

“You seem good at what you do.”

“Thank you.”

“Isn’t there an easier way for you to live?”

The charm woman considered the question before answering. “I suppose I could set up an exhaustively protected lair from which I could operate. But I don’t think I’m good enough to keep such a stronghold hidden indefinitely. Besides, I enjoy the outdoors. The exercise keeps me young. I suspect I would stagnate if trapped in one place.”

“Does it get lonely?”

“My charms are good company. I never tire of creating them. Improving my Edomic is a lifelong challenge. The related efforts keep me stimulated. My only other realistic option would be to take up a false identity and quit using Edomic, which I would never consider.”

Rachel nodded. “It’s fun to use it. It makes me feel, I don’t know, more alive.”

The woman gazed up at her from astride the donkey. “Considerable pleasure arises from successfully exerting your will to command natural elements. Something more than the inherent satisfaction of accomplishment. The thrill can become intoxicating. It can lure the unwary into attempting more than they are ready to manage … with disastrous results.”

“I’ll try to be careful,” Rachel said, wishing she had kept the thought to herself.

“I’m not advising you to ignore the pleasure of wielding Edomic,” the charm woman clarified. “You couldn’t if you tried. But keep up your defenses against the tantalizing allure. Chasing the thrill of power is a short path to destruction.”

They proceeded in silence for a time, with the donkey in front, Rachel behind on her much larger mount. The donkey showed no interest in hurrying, never advancing at more than a walk.

After some time, the charm woman dismounted and then planted a small stake in the ground, not much bigger than a golf tee. A few copper rings dangled from the top.

“What will that do?” Rachel asked.

The charm woman remounted the donkey. “The purpose is twofold. The totem will serve as an alarm to let us know if somebody is following our trail. And it should also befuddle and divert any who seek to pursue us.”

“You think of everything,” Rachel said.

“I try.”

“Do you have a name? I feel like I have nothing to call you.”

“I have a name. But I don’t share it. My most formidable enemies hunt me with their minds. It helps that they don’t know where I’m from, or my age, or who my relatives might be. It also helps that they don’t have my name. You can assign me a nickname if you like.”

“How about Elaine?”

“That will serve. You chose swiftly.”

“I’ve always liked it.” Rachel did not add that Elaine had been the name of her favorite stuffed animal, a giraffe with a hat and pearl necklace.

As the day progressed, they rode across low, wild hills and skirted numerous valleys and meadows, never proceeding with any haste. The charm woman planted a couple more stakes. By sundown, they reached a rocky slope above a small lake. Rachel followed the donkey over uneven terrain until they arrived at the wide mouth of a shallow cave.

The charm woman dismounted and removed a few items from the donkey’s packs. Rachel tethered her horse and then collected her rolled blankets. Elaine led her into the broad recess. Rachel noticed symbols painted on the walls, and a few crude figurines on the ground. In a rear corner of the shallow cave, the charm woman led Rachel through a narrow cleft into a second chamber.

“I’ve used this cavity before,” Elaine confided. “It offers plenty of shelter to build a fire now that darkness will hide the smoke.” She motioned toward a few tidy stacks of wood.

“Are those your dolls out in the first room?” Rachel asked.

“I prefer for my hideouts to remain undisturbed.”

“Right.”

Elaine piled up some logs in a depression, then added some twigs. “Would you care to do the honors?”

“Sure. I haven’t lit a campfire before.”

“Concentrate on this stick,” Elaine said, indicating a gnarled twig. “See if you can get the entire length to ignite at once.”

“Drake used tinder,” Rachel hedged.

“Drake didn’t have your aptitude. There are words that could direct the heat to gather along the entire stick. But I would rather you used the same verbiage as usual, and simply willed the heat to the entirety of the twig.”

Rachel flexed her fingers nervously. “What if I fail?”

“This is not overly ambitious. You’ll be fine. Besides, if you fully invest in this task, I don’t expect you to fail. Go ahead.”

Rachel knelt close beside the modest pile of wood, eyes on the gnarled twig, trying to internalize the texture and shape. She focused her will on it, just as she had on the candle wicks, but instead of narrowing her concentration down to a point, she tried to mentally aim at the entire object.