Page 40 of Heart of the Summer Queen

“If we encounter any beasts in these trees,” I say, “it’s best you have a weapon.”

“If we do, it would be wiser to run than fight them.” He holds the dagger back out to me. “And you should keep this to defend yourself.”

“You’ve had centuries more combat experience. If we are forced to fight, then our odds would be better stacked in our favor if you held a blade.” Admitting all this out loud is no easy thing, but Elaric is a remarkably better fighter than I am, and I cannot argue with logic.

And it seems neither can Elaric. He just shakes his head and secures the dagger to his belt. Then we continue through the woods.

Now I’m more aware of the dangers lurking in the trees, I’m conscious of every twig snapping beneath our boots, and every whistle of wind through the dense canopy of leaves.

An owl hoots somewhere within the branches, and my skin crawls as I imagine what nightmarish creature it may prove to be. Perhaps its beak is like a vulture’s, and its wings are leathery like a bat’s. Maybe it even has glowing red eyes and onyx horns.

But the owl swoops down, and I glimpse it.

It’s no bloodthirsty monster. Just an ordinary owl.

My attention fixed on the owl above, I’m slow to react when Elaric calls my name.

“Adara, wait—” he calls, but it’s already too late.

His gaze is on the ground.

I lift my boot.

Beneath is an indigo toadstool with green spots covering its cap. A loud pop sounds.

Then the entire woods echo as a long chain of toadstools explodes.

Purple fog bursts out, devouring us both.

fifteen

“This way,” Elaric says, voice muffled by his hand covering his mouth.

I squint, but the purple fog engulfs everything and burns my eyes. My only choice is to keep them averted down, partially closed.

Elaric’s vision must be less impaired than mine, since he grabs my arm and pulls me away. Several paces later, the fog wanes and I can breathe easier. My sight returns shortly after.

“Gloomshrooms,” he explains. “Their fog is poisonous.”

Though we’re now out of its clutches, it’s too early to declare us safe. The poisonous mist seeps through the trees, chasing us.

“Can it kill us?” I ask.

“Not by itself. But it will render us unconscious for several hours.”

I clench my jaw. “Long enough for something else to come and kill us.”

Elaric gives a stiff nod.

We sprint through the trees, but there’s no outrunning the fog. The air thickens and again, my vision distorts. Breathing becomes much harder.

Then there’s another loud pop. This time it comes from beneath Elaric’s boots.

Dozens follow it, far more than the first time. The resulting cloud is much greater than before, and now there is no escape.

Black spots eat at the edges of my vision. “Elaric,” I call, unable to find him through the haziness. I feel my lips moving but hear no sound leaving my mouth even when I shout louder.

I find myself slipping, weightless as a cloud, teetering over the edge of a cliff, until I topple into the depths beneath.

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