I guess I was more tired than I thought - probably mentally rather than physically; it had been quite a day, after all - because I forgot to set my alarm clock, and it was almost ten in the morning when I finally woke up. I sat up and stretched, yawning and smiling up at Sparkle. She was already sitting in the open door of her night light, feet dangling, watching me.

“Good morning, Caley!” She said cheerfully when she saw me smiling at her. “Ken was in about an hour ago to check on you. He left a breakfast cart for you.” She pointed.

Indeed, an old-fashioned serving cart was sitting at the foot of the bed. It had a covered silver tray on it, and I could just faintly smell eggs, bacon and toast. My stomach promptly announced that if I planned to do anything else that day, I had better feed it first, so I applied myself to the provided breakfast.

Ken had thoughtfully included a couple of cookies for Sparkle, who promptly gobbled them down.

Having gotten a good night’s sleep - I could only vaguely remember the most abstract and relaxing of dreams, no doubt Sparkle’s doing - and a hearty breakfast, I gave some thought to exercise. I wasn’t in the mood to go for a jog, but if I didn’t start restoring some sort of routine, I’d lose my muscle tone. Which I absolutely didn’t want to do.

My eyes drifted to the windows and the beautiful summer morning outside them. Today, there were fluffy clouds drifting across the clear blue sky, and the trees appeared to be showing signs of autumn…but not many signs. I somehow got the impression that this was likely as close to winter as I would ever see out of my bedroom windows.

Apparently, I was feeling a bit rebellious that morning, too.

“Sparkle,” I said thoughtfully, “if I stay in the clearing, do you think it would be safe for me to go outside?”

Sparkle nodded. “I don’t see why not, as long as I’m with you and as long as you stay in the clearing.”

I nodded, went to the closet, and collected my battered old yoga mat. I changed into black spandex leggings and a matching short-sleeved t-shirt, pulled on socks and my green trainers (which made me realize that I was starting to ignore the semi-regular influx of new clothing and had begun to think of everything in the closet as ‘mine’ whether I recognized it or not), and headed for the window.

Sparkle stayed beside me as I stepped up onto the bench at one of the spots that was clearly designed to be used as steps, opened one of the larger door-like panes, and hesitated.

“Should I leave this open?” I asked Sparkle.

“You can,” Sparkle said. “Nothing can get in without your express permission. But even if you close it, you’ll still be able to see it and find your way back to it without any trouble.” She hesitated, then added, “Mistress Chessie could, anyway.”

“A reasonable assumption, then.”

“Anyway,” Sparkle added breezily, “you can always use the Master Key to find the nearest entrance to the House.”

Now that was a useful piece of information, and one that I immediately filed away as critical. “Good to know,” I said. Then I put my yoga mat down on the bench, unlocked the pane, swung it outwards like the door it resembled, and stepped through.

There was a gap about the size of a stair between the bottom of the windowsill and the ground outside, so it was an easy step down onto the lush green grass. Feeling a bit paranoid, I decided to leave the window open, just in case.

The grass was as neatly trimmed as the lawn outside the House, so I guessed that someone - maybe the fairies? - was tending to it regularly. Turning around, I saw…well…

…I saw my bedroom windows hanging in mid-air, which made my brain flinch for a moment, before simply giving up and accepting it. I walked to the edge of the window frame and, as I’d half expected, when I stuck my head around the other side, I was still looking into my bedroom.

Which made absolutely no sense, but…magic.

I shrugged a little and looked around. The clearing outside my windows was about - at an estimate - fifty or sixty meters across. Not large, but big enough, and surrounded by forest on all sides. The temperature was…honestly it was just perfect. I could’ve comfortably sunbathed in a bikini (if I had one) or come outside in jeans and a sweatshirt. It felt like the temperature would be comfortable regardless.

And I clearly wasn’t the first person to use it. There was a stone bird bath (sadly empty) with a hexagonal bowl standing off to one side, along with a device atop a pole that looked like the bottom part of a bird feeder. When I examined it, I realized that it was designed to have a two litre soda bottle screwed into it.

Bizarre. Maybe it was some sort of home-made feeder that my mother had put together when she was a child. But I also felt the tell-tale tingle of magic from it, suggesting that it was enchanted. Holding my left hand out to it, I closed my eyes and concentrated on it for a moment the way Ken had taught me, and got an impression of preservation, prolonging, and protecting.

I opened my eyes again, tipped my head, then looked around. “Sparkle? Do you know what this was for?”

She zoomed over from where she’d been looking longingly at the empty bird bath and giggled. “Oh, sure! Mistress Chessie used to put out bottles of soda for the fairies.”

I had a brief, vivid, and disturbingly amusing mental image of a field full of pixies hopped up on sugar and caffeine. “Of course she did. I imagine the enchantments on it kept the soda fresh and bubbly even after it was opened.”

Sparkle nodded excitedly. “Are you gonna put some out?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I might at that. I take it the bird bath is for the fairies too?”

Sparkle nodded some more. “Yup!”

“Well,” I said, “I should fill that, at least. Do you know where I can find a bucket?” Since there was no sign of an outdoor tap - let alone a wall - anywhere, I didn’t even bother asking about a hose.

“Mistress Chessie used to fill it using magic,” Sparkle said.

“Ah,” I nodded. That made sense, and my brain immediately kicked out some pieces of one of Ken’s dream lessons. Conjured water, I recalled, didn’t last very long and while it would quench thirst, it wouldn't hydrate a body. In fact, when it evaporated (in a matter of minutes), there would be no trace of it at all, leaving even dampened clothing completely dry.

However, I could gather 'summon' water out of the air, as long as there was sufficient moisture in the immediate area. It didn’t feel humid in the clearing, but the air definitely wasn’t dry. This was a practical application of magic that appealed to me greatly, and although I was a bit unsettled about my overachieving success casting lightning…

No. I couldn’t let myself be afraid of magic. I was going to do this.

I turned to the bird bath, pondering my Latin. Ken’s lessons had indicated that the verbal component didn’t need to be perfect Latin…it would, in fact, benefit from not being perfect Latin, as that meant I was making up a word (or phrase) with connotations distinct to me. I wanted to fill the basin (which I noticed again was not a circle, and therefore could not be used to trap the fairies).

I wondered briefly if sign language could be used to cast spells silently and resolved to look into it.

Okay. I sucked on my bottom lip, closed my eyes, and stretched out my hand - palm forward, fingers outstretched - over the basin. I built a mental image of an empty, transparent sphere forming in front of my palm. I opened one eye to look at the basin, decided I was better off over-estimating the amount of water needed than under, and mentally increased the size of the sphere before closing my eye again. Then I imagined moisture drawing out of the air and gathering into the invisible sphere, filling it with water, much the same way I’d imagined gathering energy for my wind and lightning spells.

That tripped a thought that I was only working with half of what I needed there, so I also imagined energy gathering with the water, to power the spell I was casting.

I opened my eyes, breathed in and out calmly, and murmured, “Impleaqua.”

To my absolute delight - I almost bounced on my toes in excitement - moisture began condensing out of the air and streaming into a roughly spherical shape in front of my hand. In moments, I had a basketball-sized sphere of gently rolling water floating in front of my hand. I gathered a bit more, until I thought it was enough to fill the basin.

Keeping my excitement firmly in check, not wanting to lose my hold on the spell, I slowly lowered the sphere into the basin…then released my hold on the spell.

The water immediately splashed into the basin, overflowing the edges - incidentally splashing some onto my trainers - and sloshing around a bit before settling down. I’d been close…there was less than a centimeter left between the lip of the basin and the water within.

“Yes!” I cried, thrusting both fists into the air in triumph.

Sparkle zoomed circles around me, cheering. “That was fantastic, Caley!”

“Yes,” Ken’s voice said from nearby, “it was. Very well done.”

I looked over to see him standing just inside my open bedroom window, watching me with an expression that was both severe and pleased at the same time. “I’m impressed that you pulled that spell together on the fly, but didn’t I tell you not to go out into the clearing until you’d had some training?”

Sparkle huffed. “Oh, pish. She’s perfectly safe out here.”

Ken looked torn. “But…”

“No,” I said, walking back over to the window. “I’m out here for a reason. Yoga mat, please.” I held out my hands to him.

He glanced down, sighed, and handed me the rolled up mat from where I’d left it on the bench. “How do you feel after casting that spell?”

I untied the mat and spread it out on the grass near the windows. “Kind of hungry, but otherwise okay.”

Ken nodded. “That’s excellent. Your body’s already learning to metabolize energy efficiently. Caley…”

“No,” I said firmly, sitting down on the mat and starting my exercises. “You’re not talking me out of this. It’s beautiful out here, and I need to keep up with my exercise. This is as good a place to do so as any.”

I could almost hear Ken grinding his teeth, and knew without looking up at him that his jaw would be clenched. Finally, after a minute, he let out a gusty sigh. “Fine. But I’m staying right here until you’re back inside.”

“Actually,” I said, “you could do me a favor in the meantime.”

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Bring me a bottle of cola for the feeder.” I said it without looking up, without so much as smiling. But I knew that asking him to go away even briefly would tweak him. It was a petty, largely insignificant revenge, but it felt good all the same.

I mentally rebuked myself - such behavior was both beneath me and more than a bit cruel - but even the rebuke was weak. I was, it seemed, still a bit irritated with him.

Then I realized with a pang that it was the first time since we'd met that I'd straight-up issued an order to him. He might not be able to not do it. I felt a pang of genuine guilt at that.

I'd apologize when he returned.

“Fine,” he ground out, clearly trying to hold onto his composure. “I’ll be right back.”

Sparkle collapsed to the grass giggling as soon as he was gone, and I smiled at her. “Now now,” I said. “I shouldn’t really have done that, it was petty of me and a little bit cruel.”

“Y-you should,” Sparkle gasped between giggles, “have s-seen…the look on his face!”

I smiled in spite of myself. “I kind of wish I had. Bit pinched, was it?”

She nodded and collapsed in another fit of giggles. Then, in an instant, she was hovering beside me, all laughter gone as she faced away from me.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

She relaxed and smiled, settling onto the mat beside me, watchful. “Company, but just curious company.”

I glanced over my shoulder and saw two female fairies - similar in shape to Sparkle but a bit smaller, one silver and one red - settling onto the edge of the bird bath. They looked back at me curiously, but didn’t say anything or approach any closer.

So I just smiled and nodded to them, then returned to my exercises.

By the time Ken returned less than ten minutes later, there were a dozen fairies - male and female - perched on the bird bath and feeder pole, watching me curiously. There was a hushed, excited murmur of sound from them as he set a bottle of cola on the window sill. “I see you have an audience,” he said, sounding only a little sour.

I looked up at him and smiled. “A couple of them have been trying to mimic me. It’s adorable.”

Ken’s sour face melted a bit then, turning into a fond smile. “Yes, it is rather.” He appeared to lean against the sill, then I realized that he might actually be leaning against it, since he couldn’t pass through. “Give them time and enough attention, and you’ll never get rid of them.”

“I’m not sure why I’d want to,” I said seriously, then raised my voice a little. “I hope they’ll keep dancing outside my windows at night. It’s ever so beautiful to watch.”

That got a murmur of happy, appreciative sound from my tiny audience. Sparkle giggled.

Ken chuckled softly. “Fair enough. How long will this take?” He sounded more curious than anything else.

“Half an hour,” I said, shifting into another position. “Maybe forty-five minutes if I really get into it. I'm sorry, Ken…I was being very petty when I ordered you to get that bottle of soda instead of asking.”

He nodded a little, hesitated, then sighed. "I understand…and I forgive you. I’ll just get the bathroom ready for you, and lay out some clothes for you.”

“Thank you, Ken!” I called after his retreating back. He raised a hand in acknowledgment and moved out of my line of sight.

Once I was sufficiently warmed up, I shifted to Tai Chi, which seemed to fascinate my fairy audience. Sparkle watched me curiously for a minute, then started trying to mimic what I was doing. My movements were already slow enough and fluid enough for her to follow, and before long she was keeping up with me reasonably well (except when I switched forms, which made her giggle until she got the hang of the new one).

It wasn’t long before the little silver and red fairies joined Sparkle - though they stayed off the mat and out of my reach, I noticed - in doing my exercises with me. By the time I finished, my audience had grown to maybe three dozen fairies (most of them smaller than even than Silver and Red, as my mind had dubbed them), and maybe a third of them were mimicking my exercises with varying levels of success.

A fair number of them had lined the outside of the windowsill and were sitting or standing to watch me (or, in the case of those closer to it, the soda bottle). As I wound down and sat down on the mat to stretch, the ones nearest me scattered back to the bird bath and windowsill, except for Silver and Red, who just jumped back a few inches. Sparkle flitted over to talk quietly with them…probably gossiping about me, from the way the two smaller fairies (they were about half a head shorter than Sparkle) kept glancing up at me.

Ken had returned to the window by then, and was leaning against the inside of it by the open pane. The fairies on the windowsill had ignored him completely, which I found interesting.

I finished and laid back on the mat, looking up at the bright blue sky and puffy white clouds. “It is really quite beautiful out here,” I said.

“I agree,” Ken said, and I realized that he wasn’t watching me…he was watching the edge of the woods uneasily. “Why don’t you come back in, and we can start your new magic lessons.”

I sat up, nodded, then rose slowly. “All right.” I rolled up my mat and walked back to the windows, scattering the fairies perched there. “Please?” I held out the mat to him.

Ken smiled and took it.

“Thank you,” I returned his smile, then collected the bottle of soda. “All right, let’s see how this thing works…”

I walked back over to the feeder, Sparkle joining me halfway there. “Mistress Chessie designed it so she could leave the cap on and not have to worry about it spilling.”

I huffed a relieved little laugh. “I was trying to figure out how I was going to get it on there without spilling cola everywhere. Thank you.” Then I examined the holder, nodded to myself, flipped the bottle upside-down and settled it into the round brace designed to hold it. The capped mouth of the bottle slid into a port that fitted it perfectly, and after a moment there was a soft hiss and soda began trickling down into the glass dispenser below.

Fairies, as I had now seen, were shockingly quiet creatures when they wanted to be. So the sudden susurration of sound behind me, accompanied by the brief buzzing of literally dozens of sets of wings, clued me in that I needed to get out of the way.

So I backed away quickly, Sparkle landing neatly on my shoulder as I backpedaled.

Before I was three feet away, fairies - led by Silver and Red - descended on the feeder with a joyous cheer. I barely made it out of range before the feeder was surrounded by a dizzyingly colorful cloud of blurred forms as they jockeyed for position.

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. “Maybe I should put up another one.”

Sparkle giggled. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

I watched the scrum for a moment before shaking my head. “Remind me to refill those tomorrow morning, please.”

“Okay, Caley!” Sparkle said happily.

Ken backed away from the window as I approached, and we went back inside.