Page 50 of The Flame and the Forsaken

Mariel picked more fennel and dandelions, gagging with every tug; if she survived the ordeal, she’d never eat either ever again. She found a lone lagerberry bush she robbed of its entire contents, stuffing a handful in her mouth before continuing.

The world shook, and she stumbled into a tree. The red eyes of a boar pinned her there. She was too injured to outrun it, and by the time she drew her dagger, those long, curving horns would have her impaled. But this creature, unlike the ones she’d heard shrieking in the forest, seemed more curious than dangerous.

Mariel closed her eyes and whispered a brief prayer. When she opened them, the boar was gone.

She waited for the panic to subside and kept straight on, marking arrows on trees as she went. When the brush grew denser, weaving together to prevent smooth ingress, she turned back. That was when she spotted the mushrooms.

When she and her siblings were children, their mother had taught them all about how to spot poisonous toadstools. The ones in the kingdom had one of three defining characteristics; they either had pale spots lining the cap, uneven truffling, or the tiniest spikes along the stem, like the stinging barbs of nettles.

A close examination revealed the cluster had none of these. They were all a boring, dull brown, with no other features to note. She considered the possibility the island might have different species than the realm proper, but one of the core learnings her mother had impressed upon her was that a poisonous plant always hadsometrait meant to deter predators from consuming it.

Mariel broke one off and nibbled the tiniest spot off the edge. She waited a few minutes, and when no ill effects kicked in, she took another bite and then another, eventually finishing the entire mushroom.

Still alive. And slightly less hungry.

She balanced on her crutch and her good leg. Her knee wobbled, weak and exhausted like the rest of her, but it held long enough for her to clear the entire patch and load it into her slinged bag.

By the time she finished, sweat was pouring off her. Her vision wavered with the heat as well, so she continued heading back, allowing herself another mushroom along the way. The surrounding leaves shimmered, some taking on more hues of blue than she was aware even existed. Some reached out to grab her, and she reached back, gasping in delight when one seemed to actually hold her hand. A mushroom, holding her hand!

Mariel was full-on grinning and giggling by the time she returned, delirious with joy from imagining Erran’s face when he returned to find she’d roasted up a delicious—and surprisingly congenial!—lunch for them.

Erran’s optimismhad only earned him two seatrout, despite the hours he’d toiled in the sun.

He’d waited through three changes of the tide before calling it. Though he’d been wishing for a more plentiful run, confirming therewasfish and hecouldspear them gave him hope for the future. The smoke signal might or might not call a passing ship, as few traveled too close to the islands intentionally, and while there was a chance the men who had built the structures would come back, there was no telling when. They needed the ability to sustain themselves indefinitely, and he was beginning to see it was possible.

On the way back, he refilled his waterskin. He lingered long enough to rehydrate and wonder if Mariel had moved from the cot at all.

She would when she saw the delectable dinner ahead of them. The fennel would be a nice seasoning for the fish.

When he reached the clearing, the sight of Mariel sitting cross-legged on the ground stopped him dead. She was playingwith a pile of mushrooms. Counting them... tossing and catching them.

Talkingto them.

Erran couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.

“Erran!” she cried, failing a clumsy leap forward and falling sideways. “I... I was going to... Wow, did you see that? Did you see the way it... thecolors?”

He was speechless. Everything he attempted to say never formed. But he knew right away what was happening. Mariel had foraged hallucinogenic mushrooms, and Guardians knew how many she’d consumed.

Erran set the crate by the door and sank onto a log near her. “Mariel, how many of those did you eat?”

“Eat?” Mariel craned her neck toward him, horrified. “They’re my friends. You don’t eat your friends. It’s true, some of them found their way to my belly, but theywantedto go there. They told me. They...”

“All right.” He leaned down to scoop the mushrooms, and she practically clobbered him. “Mariel, I’m just bringing them inside.”

“But they want to be outhere! Do you not feel the leaves? The way the forest speaks and holds everything dear and... Even the boars know not to upset them. The boars are afraid of them, and they’re afraid of us, my friends told me.”

“Right.” Erran steadied himself, imagining the long hours ahead. He sighed. “Well, tell yourfriendsthere’s another storm coming. Wouldn’t they...” He braced for the inanity of what he was about to say. “Be happier and warmer inside when it comes?”

Mariel lit up, her eyes and mouth widening in tandem. She glanced between the fungi and him. He was glad he couldn’t read whatever strange little thoughts were brewing in her mind. “Aye. Aye, theywouldprefer that. You are so wickedly smart and kind, and they would very much like to be your friend too.”

“Aye,” he muttered and finished picking up the mushrooms. He dropped them in with the fish and then went to gather her as well. He’d have to wait until she was sleeping to throw her “friends” out. “Nay,” he said when she tried to stand without her crutch, her tongue between her teeth and her hands straight out like she was about to walk a tightrope. “Nay,Mariel.”

“I want to show my friends?—”

“I’ve spoken to your friends, and they would like you to listen to me.”For once.

“Oh.” Mariel’s mouth puckered, her brows knitting. “Oh, I see. I wouldn’t want to disappoint them after all the fun we’ve had today.”

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