Candace had recovered herself when she rejoined me and soon picked up her breezy conversation style. I was happy to let her do the talking. It gave me the chance to take in the sights as we drove to her house. The airport was situated a little outside downtown, and Candace and her husband lived farther out still, though she assured me I could reach the city from her place in a little over a half hour. That wasn’t much different from my own house back in the Catalina Foothills near Tucson, and again, I felt a small twinge of reassurance about this new locale.

As we drove away from the airport and the more populous areas, I saw that the trees remained green but that the grass and low plants were yellowing. Candace explained that they were in a drought right now. As much as I loved the dry weather I’d grown up in, there was a part of me that hated to see the land around us so parched for water. It wouldn’t be that big a strain on my magic to summon a quick rain shower ... but, no. I didn’t even need Roland’s instructions to know how foolish such an act would be. I couldn’t attract any attention to myself. These conditions were normal for summer around here; the land would survive without my help. Just worry about yourself, Eugenie, I chided myself.

Candace’s house was situated on a heavily wooded street. She had neighbors, but they were spread out, giving the illusion that each house on the road was in its own private forest. I’d gotten used to the Rowan Land’s greenery, but the castle was set on cleared land, and seeing large trees right outside this house’s windows was a world away from what I’d grown up with.

“This is beautiful,” I told her as we got out of the car. She’d retrieved her arsenal from the backseat and was going for the suitcase, despite my offers of help. Twilight was casting shadows on everything, but the little house’s windows lit up the darkness.

“It is, isn’t it?” she said, gesturing me to follow. “We’ve been here ’bout fifteen years.” She took the steps onto the house’s wooden porch, which even had a swing for two. A screen door kept insects out and let evening air inside, in an effort to cool the house. As though thinking of this, Candace cast me an apologetic look. “No air-conditioning. It can get pretty hot.”

“I’m used to it,” I assured her. Compared to my castles, the ventilation here was state of the art. Screens would rock the Thorn Land’s world, if I could figure out how the gentry could manufacture them.

Inside, I met her husband, Charles. He was a tall, lanky man with blond hair that was starting to pick up a little white with age. His blue eyes were kind, and his quiet demeanor was quite the contrast to Candace’s liveliness. Watching them interact, though, I realized quickly that they balanced each other in a very harmonious way. She passed my suitcase off to him while she checked on the pot roast—which, it seemed, had not turned to ash.