"No one's going to be an abyssal demon, kid."
Simultaneously, we looked over to where Sir Ferns had been standing, at the garden's wooden gate. His calm, almost startled expression moved from me to Oswin. I could see the rising irritation in his eyes and hear the shallowness of his breath as he attempted to keep the power above his shoulders from crashing.
Everyone in the camp rose to greet the camp leader.
"Sir Ferns," Mauvi, Regina, Martha, and Lux all ran to him. Before returning to us, the camp's leader ruffled Mauvi's hair.
We were all gathered inside the cottage garden, waiting for The Drift beyond the rectangle railing. Perhaps they were waiting for Sir Ferns' approval before splitting us into three groups.
Our camp's commander cleared his throat. "There will be a still hour today," he said, "and no one knows the precise time save Lyka Millar, who is currently being kept captive by the black sorcerers."