The dryad regarded us thoughtfully with her long-lashed eyes. “You’re human,” she said in a voice that put one in mind of babbling brooks. She tilted her head. “Somewhat.”

I gestured to Jasmine and me. “Half human.”

“I’ve never met any human at all,” said the dryad.

“We’re harmless. I promise. What’s your name? I’m Eugenie. This is Jasmine and Keeli.”

Again, the dryad considered her words. “Astakana.” It was a big name for someone so delicate, but at the same time, it suited her.

“Leave her be,” murmured Keeli. “She’ll come to us on her own. Or won’t.”

So, with a few more friendly smiles, we returned to our swim and ignored Astakana. Travel in the Otherworld had prepared me to carry a few essential toiletries, and once I was sufficiently scrubbed clean, I sat on a rock and began untangling my hair with a plastic comb. I felt rather mer-maidlike. Also, considering I was sitting here naked with three other women around, I also kind of felt like something from a Penthouse letter.

“You have lovely hair.”

I’d been so intent on playing casual that I had almost forgotten the dryad’s presence. Glancing up, I was surprised to see she’d come closer to me. I hadn’t noticed her moving. Keeli hadn’t either, and even if she thought Astakana was “usually harmless,” the guardswoman still swam over to stay near me. Jasmine soon followed.

“Uh, thanks,” I said. “So do you.”

“Can I braid it?” asked Astakana.

I glanced around at the others. They shrugged. Braiding? That was unexpected. I guessed we were now moving into slumber-party territory. Still, the dryad looked so hopeful that I held out the comb. “Knock yourself out.”

She shook her head and sat behind me. “I can’t touch that. And I don’t need it anyway.”

Sure enough. Her deft fingers began sorting and arranging my hair, working out any residual tangles with touch alone. Jasmine and Keeli moved in closer, enthralled.

“That’s cool,” said Jasmine, cocking her head to get a better view. “Can you do mine next?”

“Of course,” said the dryad sweetly.

Astakana didn’t massage me or anything like that, but her workmanship had the same soothing quality as she began braiding small sections of my hair. I sighed contentedly, feeling more relaxed than I had in months, and it was only halfway through that I remembered I was supposed to be getting information out of her.

“Have you lived in the Mimosa Land for long?” I asked.

“All of my life,” she said.

“Seems like a nice place.”

“It is,” she assured me.

“Much better than other places,” I added. “Lots of other lands are having a terrible winter right now.”

“I’ve never seen any other lands,” she said simply. “I’ve never left this glade.”