“No, it doesn’t. None of this is reasonable.” She lifted her pack onto her shoulder. The bag was ridiculously light, reminding her it contained no food or water, which in turn reminded her this was no trivial game they played. “You can’t just believe your way out of trouble. What are we going to do? Just say there’s no forest and then the trees will all melt away?”

“I think it may take a bit more than just saying it. Yes, it will require much more than that.” Kile nodded and walked off, strolling down the grassy path, retracing the route they had already explored a dozen times.

“Where’s he going?” Farilane asked Sheldon, who shrugged.

When they caught up with him, Kile was back at their old camp, and Farilane had a sinking feeling they would never be rid of the place. The whole predicament was feeling more and more like a prison.

Kile pointed at the sycamore side of the trail. “We heard a monster on this side—the red-eyed tabor, remember?”

Farilane and Sheldon nodded.

Kile turned and pointed to the other side of the greenway. “Over there is where we saw the light that lured us into the bog.”

“So what?” Sheldon asked. “We know all that.”

“But until now, we didn’t know we were dealing with magic. And with understanding comes a new reality.”

Farilane rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No, it doesn’t. Reality is reality. It doesn’t change.”

Kile once more smiled at her, and she realized it was the sort of expression an understanding parent or teacher might extend to a frustrated child. She’d seen that look on Virgil’s face when he tried to explain the “truth” about the gods. She didn’t care for the condescending attitude in either man. They saw her as an innocent young woman, convincing them that they must know more than she.

“Your Highness, you are very good at problem-solving. I’ve seen it. You take small clues and use them to form solutions. All I am asking is for you to do what you normally would.”

Farilane opened her mouth to interrupt. Kile raised a hand, stopping her. “But pretend for a moment that magic is real and factor that into your reasoning.”

She shook her head. “Starting with false facts will result in a pointless answer.”

Kile smiled. “Humor me, then. Treat it as a theoretical puzzle if that helps. Where’s the harm?”

Farilane sighed. “Fine. It’s not like we are running out of time or anything, not like we are literally dying of thirst.”

“Good.” Kile grinned. “So if, as Mister Faust says, this is all a phantasm”—he gestured around them at the trees and the pathway—“what might you deduce from our situation?”