He gave her a penetrating look. "You're right," he told her. "It's strange to think that my presence is fueling the powers of those who are trying to stop me."

She laughed ruefully. "That's one way of looking at it, I guess," she admitted. "You feel like moving? I rebuilt the lean-to while you were out. Want to move back into the shade, or do you want to stay here?" She hovered over him. "Need something to eat or drink? Want a pillow?"

He pulled himself up to his feet, but he could feel his bone-weariness. Using his magic as he had had literally sucked all the strength right out of him. He never dreamed that it could be so tiring. But then again, what he had done would have been considered impossible. "I'm fine, Sarraya," he said. "Just let me take a nap and get something to drink, and I'll be fine. I don't think we'll be moving until tomorrow, though. I need to rest."

"We can't stay up here," she said with a fret. "You sit down and rest and let me go find a good campsite that's close enough for you to reach. Then we'll move and make a good camp, instead of this ramshackle rush job here."

"Sounds like a plan to me," he said, moving over to the lean-to. He flopped down in the shade and rolled over on his belly. He was so tired that his tail simply laid limply across his leg, when it usually would have been swishing over him. "Just come and get me when it's time to move."

"Sure thing."

"Sarraya."

"What is it?"

"Thanks for caring," he said in a weary voice, then he lowered his head, closed his eyes, and immediately fell asleep. A deep, dreamless sleep, uninterrupted by stray thoughts. A sleep of recovery.

Sarraya had found a good campsite, in a shallow valley between two flattened hills, a rambling little dell that concentrated the light of the campfire and gave them a great deal of warning should something come over the hilltops and attack. It required a herculean effort for Sarraya to rouse him from his sleep once she returned, having to resort to Druidic magic to shock him back into some sense of consciousness with ice-cold water. It was only about a longspan from where he had been sleeping, and it took him nearly an hour to trudge over to the rather elaborate campsite that Sarraya had erected before coming back for him. Three large tents, one of them filled with all kinds of foods, even meat, kept chilled by conjured ice. A tent for sleeping, complete with enough blankets to raise the top some span off the desert floor, so soft that he very nearly sank into them. She wouldn't explain why she raised the third tent, and he was too tired to care when he dragged himself past the large fire pit that she had excavated and crawled into the tent she had said was his. He fell asleep as soon as he was inside, and slept all the way until nearly noontime the next day, in a nearly comatose slumber that would have been impossible for him to awaken from, should he be needed.

He finally did stir at the smell of cooking bacon, and the sound of it sizzling in a skillet. He felt as if his head had been stuffed with wool, but his body felt much better. He still felt tired, but he knew that that was an effect of sleeping for such a long time. The brightness outside told him that it had to be well into morning, at the very least, and he realized that he'd been sleeping almost non-stop since noon the prior day. He sat up and realized that he'd been laying on his tail all that time, rendering the limb numb and paralyzed from lack of blood from about a longspan from the base down. It hung limply behind him as he stood up and stretched carefully so as not to bring down the tent, then it dragged on the ground behind him as he left the tent to see what was going on.

Sarraya was hovering near a skillet that was itself hovering over the fire, a large slab of bacon sizzling merrily within it. The Faerie was sweating profusely, between the desert heat and the radiance of the fire. He looked down at her with both amusement and gratitude. It took a great deal to make Sarraya bend to such manual labor.

"Morning," she said with a smile. "Sleep well?"

"I have no idea," he grunted, stretching again. His back popped in several places, making Sarraya cringe.

"What's wrong with your tail?"

"I slept on it," he replied. "It's numb."

"Well, it should start buzzing like mad in just a moment," she said with a laugh.

"I know," he replied, squatting down by the fire. "I'm surprised that you lowered yourself to cooking on my account."

"Well, I figured you'd need a hot meal when you woke up," she replied evenly. "I didn't expect you to wake up yet, though. I was planning on eggs, bacon, bread, and porridge."

"I'll settle for the bacon," he told her, the smell of it making him hungry.

"Well, you just sit down and wait," she said sternly. "You can't eat uncooked bacon. It's unhealthy."

"How would you know? You don't eat meat."

"I know how to cook," she said tersely, glaring at him momentarily.

"Who taught you?" he asked curiously.

"That's a stupid question!" she snapped at him.

"Really? It's stupid to wonder where you learned how to cook meals that you won't even eat? My, I must really be dense."

"If you must know, I learned how to cook a long time ago," she replied. "The Druid who trained me taught me. Cooking for him was one of my chores, because he was getting old, and couldn't get around much anymore."

"That's surprising."

"That I can learn things?" she said dangerously.

"That a Druid got old," he said mildly. "I thought you lived forever."

"No," she said. "Druids are the extensions of nature, and death is a part of nature. Druids live a long time, I'll grant that, and they're usually pretty spry right up to the end, but they die just like anything else."

"I shoulda figured," he said as his tail suddenly began to tingle and buzz painfully. Blood had managed to flow back into the limb, and it began to twitch spasmodically as movement was restored. "How long was I asleep?"

"Since yesterday. I had to throw cold water on you to wake you up so you'd come here."

"Huh. I don't remember that. I don't even remember walking here." He looked around the campsite idly. "What are the other two tents for?"

"One's for food, the other is mine," she replied. "I decided it would be nice to sleep in a place of my own for once, instead of always sleeping with you. I was starting to get tired of you rolling over on me."

Tarrin ignored that. "A big tent for such a little lady."

"I wanted a bit of luxury," she said primly. "We're all entitled to a bit of pampering now and then."

"I guess," he sighed, flexing his tail as the tingles ended. "Looks like you've settled in, Sarraya. You want to leave today?"

"Tomorrow," she told him. "Let's give you an extra day to rest, and I think both of us wouldn't mind a little break from all the travelling. I'd like to sit down and read a book, and you need to sleep some more."

He yawned. "That sounds like a good idea. At least it will be after I eat something. Any trouble?"

"Not so far," she replied. "This stretch of desert doesn't have much foliage, so there aren't many animals. I didn't see or hear any Sandmen last night, but I guess that's no guarantee that they're not around here."

"Any Selani?"

"I think I spotted one just after sunrise, but it was too far away for me to make it out. I think it was a Selani. It was tall and bipedal. I only saw it a moment."

"Probably was," he told her. "They've been keeping an eye on us."

"I know. Alright, bacon's ready. Just be careful, it's hot," she warned.

Tarrin gave her a flat look, then reached out and picked it up out of the pan. She forgot that heat didn't bother him, not even the searing heat of sizzling bacon. He attacked the well-cooked bacon ravenously, wolfing it down in mere moments, just in time to take a conjured tankard filled with warm milk Sarraya offered. He drank that down in two huge swallows, then started on the basket of fruits that the Faerie conjured for him.