Zally's Book by Jan Bozarth Page B

could pick up from Kir’s mind and how I had figured out what was bothering the marsh troll. When Imishi actually looked impressed, I told her about my rapport with stray animals in the waking world. I wondered if I would be able to sense their feelings when I got home, like I could sense Kir’s in Aventurine.
    I sat down on the grass, which was soft and springy. It felt amazing to lie back on it. I had to force myself to sit up and remove my boots. “We might as well have supper and spend the night here,” I said.
    â€œDid Kir tell you that, too?”
    â€œNo, but he’s making himself at home, we don’t have any flashlights, and we could all use some rest. So I just figured it was a good idea,” I said. “And I need some time to work on my map, plus I’m starving.”
    â€œWe should get clean first,” Imishi said, picking up the horse blanket, which was caked with mud fromthe swamp. She dipped the blanket in the pool nearest her, just once. As she pulled the material out of the water, dirt streamed away until it was clean. The fairy girl took a step back from the pool and shook the blanket so that it snapped in the warm evening air. “The magic of Willowood cloth,” Imishi said, showing it to me.
    The cloth was dirt free and completely dry!
    I went to a pool close to the ones Imishi and Kir were using. I dipped a toe into the water, which was just cool enough to be refreshing. Throwing caution to the wind, I jumped in, fully clothed, and ducked my head under the water. After the swamp, with its murky water and moldy smells, this was absolute heaven.
    I surfaced, rubbed my hands over my skin to remove any lingering traces of mud, dunked my head again, and swished my hair around. I got out of the pool feeling clean and revived. I removed several articles of clothing, shook them out to dry them, then dressed again. It was the most fun I’d ever had doing laundry.
    We gathered for dinner, eating the food from the Willowood Fairies, except for Kir, who munched on mouthfuls of grass. After supper, Imishi found what she called a cinder oak and broke off a glowing twigthat I could use for light while working on my map. She dug into the saddlebags as I worked.
    â€œLook, Zally!” Imishi said.
    I glanced up, and by the light of the twig, I saw that she was holding a silver comb. “Pretty,” I said, looking back at my map.
    Imishi started humming and I looked up again. She was combing her coral hair. Then she took a narrow section, wrapped it around one finger, and made a swirling motion from the root to the tip. As she twirled her finger, slender tendrils of vines grew around the strand in a spiral. Miniature yellow flowers blossomed on the vines. The comb was pretty, but this was enchanting.
    Malia and her parents took me to a Renaissance fair once in New Jersey. There had been a booth where you could get your hair braided into lots of little braids and decorated with flowers. But it had been too expensive, so we had just watched for a long time. I watched now, my map forgotten, as Imishi repeated the process until her hair was held back in a dozen flowery hair vines.
    â€œHow did you do that?” I asked.
    Imishi smiled. “I could do the same with your hair,” she offered.
    â€œReally?” I asked.
    Imishi nodded, her grin growing.
    â€œI’d love that. But would I have to take them out to sleep?” I asked.
    â€œNo, hair vines are very comfortable to sleep in, and they don’t tangle. You can keep your hair like this for days. It keeps your hair out of your eyes, too.”
    I wasn’t about to turn her down. “Can I work on the map while you do it?” I asked.
    Imishi nodded again. “That is a good idea. That way no time is wasted.”
    So while Imishi twisted my long hair into vines, I let my mind follow its inspiration to sketch the next part of the map. When we finished, we were both in a much better mood than