Sixteen
I spend an hour or two that evening in my room with Junie, the elf Jack mentioned earlier, trying not to stare at her ears while she creates linen for the bed and curtains for the windows, and changes the chair from a hard wooden thing into a soft armchair with flower-patterned fabric. Bandit takes an immediate liking to the new armchair and promptly curls up on it and falls asleep. Junie asks if I want anything else, and when I ask about getting a clock so I won’t be late for breakfast in the morning—no more cell phone alarm to wake me up—Junie paints the time onto my wall. A minute later, when the number magically increases by one digit, I suck in a breath. Even after several days in this world, magic continues to surprise me.
While the room is more rustic than the one I had at
