Page 32 of Interlude

“Will I really die if I use this form without being in contact with the earth element?”

“It is very weak. You could recharge that form so that if you need it again, you won’t feel sick,” he offers.

Making the only logical choice, I heave out a sigh before I walk down the stone steps and into the sunken dirt pit, lying down in the space. He waves a hand, and the soil flows back over me. “Rest well, little one. We can talk when you are feeling better.”

He disappears. I should be worried that he left me here alone, buried in dirt, but I don’t. In fact, I feel warm and comfortable, and my eyes start to droop. Embracing the need to rest, I allow sleep to wash over me, confident in the fact that I am safe despite the sounds of animals I can hear outside and a bunch of vines tapping on the glass like psycho stalkers trying to get in. I very much doubt he brought me to his home just to let me be devoured by the plants. Why did he bring me here? I know it’s not just for my elemental form now. When he returns, I have many questions, but I also plan on reverting to my real form so maybe I can see his.

I’m not sure how long I sleep, but when I wake, I feel a hundred times better. My body no longer aches, and the headache and nausea are gone. All that remains is a burning hunger. I try to look around the room to see if Master Z returned, but it isn’t easy from the sunken pit.

I look up at the skylights and see twinkling stars, but no moon, and it’s not enough light to illuminate anything around me. I see the outline of the tree and other plants that are down here, but from this angle, the rest of the room is blocked off. Someone might be up there, but I don’t hear any movement. I can still hear the vines tapping at the windows. Does that mean he hasn’t returned? Did something happen to him while he was out getting us food?

A wonderful smell reaches my nose, and my stomach rumbles with hunger once more. I use my own powers to open up the dirt this time. It’s almost as easy as breathing. All I had to do was think about it, and it happened. I stand up and wave a hand over my body, and all the dirt covering me flows back into the pit, then I close it up. I could really use a shower, but I think food is the bigger priority.

“Ah, you’re awake and fully healed.” The quiet voice from above has me looking up. I can only see a shadow of him, but I can tell he’s still wearing that cloak. He chuckles quietly.

“Come eat something, and we will talk.” The stone steps light up, illuminated by what looks like little bioluminescent mushrooms that popped up out of the ground. I follow the mushrooms, and when I climb the stairs, I discover the rest of the living space is lit by the same bioluminescence. All the plants dotted through the room seem to pulse with it, giving the space an eerie sort of romance. I gape at it in wonder. It really is beautiful.

Master Z leads me over to the kitchen, where there is a cauldron-like pot over the burning fire pit. He grabs an earthenware bowl and ladles something into it from the pot before passing it to me. Steam drifts off it as he turns to get one of his own, the smell making my mouth water. He grabs what looks like a plate of fresh bread he had sitting on the side, keeping warm, and leads me to a seating area in front of the glass panels. There are two large, soft-looking chairs sitting there that weren’t there previously. Master Z gestures for me to sit, placing the bread plate on the little coffee table between us. He passes me a spoon, which I take, before he starts eating, but then he pauses.

“Drinks. We need drinks, right?” he mutters almost to himself. He waves a hand, and a bottle of what looks like wine and two rustic goblets appear next to the plate of bread. “Sorry, it has been a while since I had guests.” He sounds slightly embarrassed, but I still can’t see him, which is driving me mad.

He puts his bowl down and uncorks the bottle. “Have you had Husad Mead before?” he asks, pouring some into each of the glasses. I shake my head. “Well, you should know what you are risking life and limb for then.” He passes me one of the goblets, and I place my bowl on my lap and take it from him. “Though I have my doubts that such a powerful group is here just because they wanted to earn some extra money, especially since that group contains the crown prince of the warlocks. Did he decide he wanted to slum it with the general population for a while?” I’m mid sip when he says this, and I almost choke on the potent yet tasty liquid. It has a smoky quality to it, almost like bourbon, but there are fresh citrus notes as well. It’s delicious, but I can tell it’s strong.

Sip slowly, Lila.

I try to come up with some kind of plausible excuse, but he places the bottle down and waves a hand. “Let us eat first. That might give you enough time to come up with some kind of reason.” I hear the amusement in his voice, and I know I’m going to have to tell him the truth. He’s looking after me, so it’s the least I can do.

I put my own goblet down on the little table and concentrate on my stew. The first mouthful has me groaning out loud. “This is delicious,” I tell him, shoveling more in quickly. I’m starving and can’t get enough.

“Here, have some bread, use it to soak up some of the broth. That’s what I do.” He holds out the plate, sounding pleased that I’m enjoying the meal. It has some kind of meat and vegetables with a rich gravy-like broth that tastes like it might have some of the mead in it as well.

“Where did you get all of this? Is there a society on this planet? All of our research showed it was uninhabitable, which obviously isn’t the case.” I wave my spoon around at the dwelling we’re in.

“I made it all. I do supply runs when we pick up new harvesters, and everything I have stores well underground. I grow the vegetables in my garden and hunt the meat. Flupkups are fairly stupid creatures and easy to trap.”

I pause with my spoon midway to my mouth and look down at my food. Flupkup stew. Oh well, it tastes like beef, and I don’t think there are any other options, so I keep eating. If I can eat raw fish while pregnant with my babies, then I can eat this.

“You have babies?” Master Z sounds curious. “Tell me about yourself, little one. I want to know everything. I haven’t seen a mimic since the Aaz’axian-Una’s war.”

I was warned that I shouldn’t be telling everyone my story, but there’s something about this creature that makes me feel safe, and since he already knows, what’s there to lose? I don’t know if he’s lulling me into a false sense of security and then going to kill me, or if my instincts are correct, but I’m going to go with my gut this time, so I tell him everything. Our meals are well and truly finished, and two bottles of Husad Mead have been consumed when I finally get to the reason we are on Husadavia to begin with.

My mind is a little foggy, and I must be rambling by now, the mead having done a great job of relaxing me.

Master Z has listened quietly, asking a question here and there when he needed clarification, but at hearing that my grandma has been placed in a stasis box in the middle of the death forest, I see his body grow tense, and the air around me seems to prickle with tension.

“Someone placed your grandma in the middle of my forest?” he asks, his voice eerily calm despite the tension now circling us.

“Yes, a faction known as the Syndicate. We still don’t know who their members are. That’s on the to-do list after we rescue Grandma Lily.”

“And your plan was that you hoped you could mimic me and use my powers to control the plants and animals to get to her?” Thankfully, the tension drops. He doesn’t seem annoyed, just curious.

“Yes, that was the plan, but to mimic you, I have to be able to see you, and since you keep yourself covered, we were waiting until we got closer to the forest to follow through.”

“And what were you going to do to get me to reveal myself?” This time, he definitely sounds amused.

“Well, the only plan I had was tripping and falling and taking your cape with me,” I admit sheepishly, and he’s silent for a moment before he starts to laugh loudly. It’s a raspy kind of sound, like it’s been a long time since he laughed, but I like it, and I find myself giggling as well.

“I didn’t say it was a good plan,” I tell him between giggles.

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