"True," Anest sighed, "but I have done enough to her already without also being the cause of her death. I will not have that on my head!"
Sighing, Belloc looked at the sylph and his apprentice with rue. "There are other things to consider here," he said quietly. "There is no telling whether she can adjust to the changes being forced upon her. She is like a wild, trapped thing . . . a caged bird. She may very well wither away and die regardless. You must be prepared for that. If you leave her for more than a day or two, then she will most assuredly die, for you are now the source of her life. You can never again go off
galivanting somewhere, heedless.
"I tell you now, you may as well consider yourself married to the girl, for when she sleeps she will require to be near to you, as she did with her spring."
Shaking his head, Anest said faintly, "Belloc, that's asking too much. Of both of us . . ."
"Is it now," replied the wizard. It was a statement. "Well, unless you can produce a spell that is beyond me, you must do as I say. It is too late to consider how either of you feel about this. Her very existence is changed from what it was, and if she is to survive, you must help her learn ways that are very strange to her. The two of you have nothing at all in common, and you are her only anchor in a life that has been cast adrift."