Something changed. Solomon wasn't quite sure what, except that it involved a wash of cooling water across the oasis and a warmth within those waters quite unlike the searing heat of the sun. That warmth, he realised with a start, hadn't exactly come from him, but it was borrowed from him somehow. He could see it in the wisps that flowed off his hand.

He almost said 'never mind', because the change was enough to take the edge off the heat, except that he was still curious about what, exactly, he could do. And since Paddy had already given his permission ...

Solomon reached past the fronds to the root. He wasn't sure what it would do to liven up just one of the ferns, but when he willed those wisps to channel into it like an extra font of water. The fern turned green and lush, and so did the one next to it, and then the one next to that. After a moment Solomon realised that it made sense, metaphysically speaking, for all the plants to have interconnected roots.

It didn't wipe away the sun's heat. Solomon couldn't do anything about that. But the oasis didn't look so weathered under its force anymore. When Solomon withdrew his hand he felt noticeably, though not significantly, drained in a way he hadn't in a long time--as if he was using a muscle he'd only just discovered he had.