Chapter 22. Daya

Germaine had begun to realize something.

The other worlds, at least the ones she had encountered, like the werewolves and the dryads, were full of magic.

As she looked at the large campsite, she realized her assertion was correct. As far as her eyes could see, tents and tents spread out and lots of people milled around. It seemed to her inexperienced eyes like a gypsy camp, one that would soon fold up and leave at any moment.

There were different makeshift stalls set up at different corners where people knick-knacks for their kind to buy from. As Daya turned to talk to someone, she approached a stall, marveling at the goods on display. There were colorful materials that attracted her eyes. As she moved closer, she found out the patterns on them changed intermittently. She gasped as a triangle changed shape into a circle.

“Tree spirit magic.” Someone whispered from behind her. She whipped around, almost colliding with Meeka. Her impossibly green eyes were almo