Chapter 22
It took an hour to get the force fire burning. A pair of thick ropes swiveled the upright tree trunk back and forth, like a giant version of rubbing two sticks together combined with a synchronized tug-of-war. The process was complicated and fiddly...and my pack mates fell upon it with pure joy. Long before the first smoke spiraled upward, laughter and ribbing warmed the clearing. I itched to try my hand.
Instead, I drifted around the periphery, spreading praise lightly. As with baking powder, too much would make the cake bitter. Just the right amount uplifted spirits and caused the entire pack to rise.
I drifted...then, then when the moment felt just right, I thrust the fragment of Faery into the fire. What had been subtly pretty in my hand ignited like a Fourth of July spar
