"Eat first." He gestured for me to sit on a sturdy stack of wood covered by a tanned hide.

I sat, crossing my arms over my chest, while he ambled over to a sack that hung from a rope. It was suspended from a tree branch, probably to keep animals away from it. After rummaging around inside the sack, he returned with a hunk of charred, barely identifiable meat.

I really should have at least packed myself some food before leaving Foresthome.

"Thank you," I said, eyeing the blackened surface of the meat for a reasonable place to take a bite. It was as if Sember had gotten angry at it.

Fen sat on the ground and watched as I took a careful bite. "Is it all right?"

"Oh, it's fine." My teeth barely made a dent, and I flipped the meat over, looking for a brown surface instead of black. "I was hoping for something a little more burnt, though."

His brows squished in confusion before he realized I was joking and began laughing. "Unfortunately, none of us are good at cooking. Although that"—he gestured to the charred object in my hand—"is worse than usual." He glanced around the camp before whispering, "Minocken forgot to get it off the fire."

"So he's charming and talented," I said with sarcasm before tearing a chunk off with my teeth. "What is this place called, anyway?"

"It's usually known as the Aberration Camp."

I frowned around my mouthful of meat. "Well, that's a terrible name. What do you call it?"

He shrugged. "Camp."

"Not exactly imaginative, but then again, neither is 'Foresthome.'"

"What would you call it, then?"

I looked around at all the unusual inhabitants. The ones I could see numbered about twenty or so, and each of them would stand out among a crowd of Plainsmen. "Land of the Gifted?"

Fen scoffed noisily. "We do not have gifts."

"Difference of opinion. But I'll work on it." My thoughts meandered to how I'd gotten here in the first place. "Fen, how did you drug me?"

"Drug you?"

"I don't sleep like the dead. But somehow, twice now, you've managed to make me sleep through hours—maybe even days—of traveling. You never gave me anything to drink, so how did you do it?"

Guilt. After dealing with chronically naughty children, that was an expression I instantly recognized on his face.

He dropped his eyes. "You must be furious."

"Oh, if I was furious, you'd know it. I'm just annoyed and disappointed that no one trusts me enough to want to tell me anything! Do you think I'm dangerous or something?"

"No. But Niralessa likes to be cautious. We've never let a Normal into Camp before."

I grudgingly accepted that answer. "And the drugging? Is that your gift or something?"

He shook his head. "I have no special talents other than this." He knocked against the hard ridges of his chest. "Niralessa is the one able to put people to sleep with her touch."

Niralessa, of course! I'd been so focused on Fen, I'd forgotten she was the one holding my hand when I went unconscious. It made perfect sense now. Sort of. "What about that first time, when I took a nap? She wasn't there." I noticed his sheepish expression. "Was she?"

He had trouble meeting my eyes. "Well, I sort of . . . led us to where she was waiting for me."

"I see." I pursed my lips. But there was nothing I could do about that now, so I didn't bother with being outraged. "Where is she anyway?" I looked around, hoping to talk to her. Without touching her this time.

"She's—"

"Now you're giving away our food?" The catty voice of Minocken interrupted.

We both looked up to find the short-snouted man glaring at me.

"Would you have her starve?" Fen said testily.

A corner of Minocken's mouth lifted up. "Would that be so bad?"

I set the charred meat beside me and lifted my chin. "You have something against me?"

He turned a cold, dark eye on me. "I wasn't talking to you." Then he stalked away before I could say anything else.

"What's his problem?" I asked Fen.

"He's had very bad experiences with Normals."

"That doesn't mean he gets to be rude."

"No," Fen agreed. "But I understand it. He's a good guy."

"If you're Gifted."

"If you're an Aberration," he corrected me.

"Whatever. My point is, he can go suck a toad."

Fen's laughter was deep and rich. "I like that you speak your mind."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You do? Most people don't."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not most people."

I smiled at him. "You certainly aren't."

We chatted some more, while I choked down the rest of the "meat." (It might have been charcoal, I couldn't be sure.) He laughed at my jokes, and I found myself forgetting I was in an unknown camp full of strangers who didn't exactly like me.

Before long, however, Minocken came back and told Fen, with a not-very-subtle sneer, "If you're done consorting with the enemy, we should get to hunting. Especially if you're going to keep giving away our food."

Fen shot me a regretful look and stood. "I'll see you later. There's a stream that way, if you'd like to wash up." He pointed, and then hesitated as if he wanted to say something else.

"Come on, tortoise brain." Minocken jerked his head toward the trees. "We're wasting time."

With a sad smile, Fen waved me farewell and followed his whiskered friend into the forest.

Not as many answers as we were hoping for. Oh well. Still vote-worthy?