7. Señorita Normal and the Giant Mushroom #2
Isabel laughs at Sapphira’s oil joke—which was a bit scandelous—as she cooks, pushing a stray curl behind her tapered ear with little tufts of brown fur the color of her horns, which are currently decorated with flowers picked by the guava cart woman’s children.
Sapphira can’t wait to get out of the cottage and see it. She’s growing restless, stuck inside.
Isabel cleans and chops taro leaves, then chops vegetables, sautéing the onions, garlic, and ginger until the home is filled with the smell.
“Can you hand me the tomatoes behind you?” she asks softly, and Sapphira does so without a word, their fingers brushing as she passes the bowl of chopped tomatoes.
Isabel hides her darkening cheeks as she returns to the clay oven, cooks the tomatoes until they’re soft, then adds the taro leaves.
Sapphira’s eyes move around the intimate kitchen, observing Isabel’s dance-like movements as she brings coconut milk to a simmer and the taro leaves lose their toughness.
Without a single measurement, Isabel adds salt, herbs, and a generous squeeze of lemon.
“Thank you, Isabella ,” Sapphira says, accepting the bowl of stew and fufu when the dinner is ready. The word rolls over her tongue. Isabel’s eyes grow heavy in response.
Kaelen bursts in the door with a yoke over his shoulders, carrying his catch of fish from the lake. Sapphira hoped he’d be gone all night. He had to travel to Sauwree Lake in Mhlabeni, and she had been under the impression that it was a far distance.
Dinner is tense and quiet. The only sounds are the kettle boiling for tea and Kaelen’s frantic eating. He is scarfing down his stew like he hasn’t eaten all day, slapping the fufu and dipping it in the stew, then slurping it off his fingers.
When he reaches for more, Sapphira tells Isabel, “I was thinking . . . maybe I could go foraging with you tomorrow.”
Isabel’s eyes rise from her bowl in surprise. “You want to come with me?” Her smile is so blinding that Sapphira scolds herself for not asking sooner. “I would love that!”
Sapphira ignores Kaelen’s protests as Isabel begins chattering excitedly about everything she wants to show her. Sapphira might not be much of an explorer, but Isabel’s enthusiasm is enough to stir her excitement.
Isabel gathers the notebook she carries everywhere and puts a charcoal pencil into a woven bag, which she throws over her shoulder.
Walking quickly toward one of the shelves, she bends to grab something and holds it out to Sapphira. “Here. This was on you when I found you.”
Sapphira’s eyes widen. Her blade.
“You kept it,” Sapphira whispers, taking it. Isabel gives her a scabbard and watches as she ties it around her waist and slides the blade in.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Kaelen says. “She’s pulled a blade on you once.”
Sapphira bares her teeth at him like a rabid dog. “I won’t hurt her,” she snaps. “I’m not some criminal. I’m a p— A knight. I’m a trained knight.”
Isabel’s eyes widen as she gasps. “Really? You served under the queen! Which one?”
Sapphira nods. “Yes. Well, the princess, actually. The Princess of Dansui.” She raises her chin. “I will protect you, Isabel. Since you are keeping me here, it will be my payment in exchange for board.”
Isabel hums, mumbling, “Where is Dansui? I don’t know which one that is.” But Sapphira thinks she believes her immediately. Kaelen doesn’t seem as convinced. Then the chimera whistles and bounds out of the cottage with a smile, Kaelen and Sapphira on her heels.
Sapphira would have preferred that Kaelen stay home.
He’s too close to Isabel, and she doesn’t like it.
They’re practically attached at the hip.
Apparently, they’ve been friends since childhood, which doesn’t make her feel any better.
And then, she feels even worse for feeling like she has some sort of ownership over Isabel. She barely knows the woman.
But when you collide so intensely with someone’s life and your own collapses quickly, it makes sense to be fused so tightly. Isabel helped her, and Sapphira has never had someone do that for her before just because they wanted to, not because it was their job.
Kaelen looks at home in the forest. He’s not even out of breath as they hike through it.
Sapphira is trying to admire the beautiful sights.
But she is sweating profusely, and the air is wet and sticky against her skin.
She is clammy in places she didn’t know the sun could reach and longs for her royal baths.
A few days earlier, Isabel gave her a spotted, wide-brimmed hat, which she claimed was a mushroom from the land of giants.
“I found it on one of my foraging trips! It was all the way up there at the top of that mountain,” she’d said as they stood out in the rolling hills behind her cottage, pointing up into the distance. Sapphira could barely make out the mountain peak through low clouds and thick trees.
“I’m not sure how it got here,” Isabel had said reverently, with a far-off look in her eye. “It is said that giants cannot leave C?rn?s, and no one can enter either. But I would love to see one someday.”
She’d dried the mushroom and strung a cord to make it into a hat. The fungi’s dark head contains thermoaegis, which works as a barrier against the heat, and the golden gills on the underbelly produce a coolant that regulates and reduces heat.
Despite that, Sapphira is out of breath from the thick humidity and her sore muscles.
Isabel was right when she said she needed more time to recover.
Her ankle was injured in her fight against Cornelius’s soldiers, and an arrow was shot through her leg.
But thanks to Isabel’s skill as a healer, the injuries are healing quickly.
She might have sustained permanent damage otherwise.
“Having trouble keeping up, Senorita Normal?” Kaelen teases as he turns to look back at her. She fell behind the other two as they hit an incline and has to rely on tree trunks to rest and propel herself upward.
“Screw you,” Sapphira says, panting. “It’s hot, and there are bugs everywhere.” As a buzz hums by her ear, she swings her arms and growls at the tiny critter. Then she slips, falling into the dirt, and that only makes Kaelen laugh.
Kaelen’s smug, catlike face is irritating in a way no man has ever annoyed Sapphira. She loathes how he gets under her skin. She gets the last laugh, though, when Kaelen steps into a spider web and screams. He hates spiders—duly noted.
“Ugh! Why did I come out here?” she whines, pulling at her sullied and sweat-soaked kaftan. She still doesn’t have any clothing of her own. She is wearing Isabel’s, and it is short on her arms and legs because of her height and her frame, which is thinner than the curvy chimera’s.
Isabel turns back to Sapphira and reaches out a hand to help her up the sharp incline. “You’re still recovering, and this place is all new to you,” she says. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m sure you’ll adapt quickly. You seem like someone who never gives up.”
Sapphira keeps ahold of Isabel’s smaller hand, her cheeks heating. “Yeah, that’s . . . that’s exactly it,” she says, swallowing the lump in her throat. She remembers when she was learning to sword fight. No one thought I could do it. A woman best a man? But I proved them wrong.
Isabel’s smile is enough to make her shake off the negative attitude and try to enjoy the day.
And a beautiful day it is for getting out of that cottage.
A river like glass shines bright with opalescent rocks that tumble along the bottom, tinkling like bells and sending beams of colorful lights upon the trees.
And the three of them are surrounded by wispy trees that look like spun sugar and smell so sweet.
Curious, Sapphira grabs a pinch and brings it to her mouth.
She lets out a shocked hum, her eyes widening in shock when a burst of flavor stings across her tongue. Isabel laughs when she grabs for more.
Everything is so new, and her head spins as she tries to keep track of it all.
Sapphira quietly follows Isabel through the jungle. Carrying her notebook and charcoal, the chimera keeps up a stream of commentary under her breath. Her fingertips are black as she furiously scribbles down notes and sketches of the plants, her tongue sticking out in concentration.
Sapphira doesn’t see the things Isabel does, but looking at her journal gives her a glimpse into the chimera’s mind as she learns of primates who move to the call of the drum and plants that wilt in the moonlight.
“The primates are called Canitam,” Isabel says.
“Their official name is Tambor Caminante, and the males obey commands made through continuous, rhythmic vibrations. That’s how they hear too!
Through their fifth arm. The arm is like a tail sprouting from the base of the spine, just above the—” She gasps, running to get a closer look at a three-leaved plant.
Her eyes twinkle as she jots down notes, completely forgetting what she had been saying.
Kaelen gives Sapphira an understanding look that says, “She does that a lot. Get used to it.”
When Isabel is satisfied, she closes her book and continues on.
The rest of the week goes much the same, with Sapphira joining Isabel and Kaelen on their treks into the jungle.
Sometimes, it is for observation and study, and other times, it is for foraging.
The pair collect things: herbs and plants for cooking and medicine, jelly eels, pickled moss, green glop and toe mice.
Things Sapphira has never heard of before, and some she wished she could have kept that way.
Sapphira isn’t used to gathering her own things. Her hands have become rough and calloused, like when she was learning to wield a sword. Her palms are red and blistering, and her feet sore from all the walking.
Back home, she had scores of people who did the work Isabel does all on her own.
Many hands touched and worked on Sapphira’s meals and her dresses, and even poured her baths, and coins exchanged hands four times over before Sapphira knew any better.
In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve seen how hard Isabel and Kaelen work, collecting their water, creating their own teas, fixing things around the cottage when they break.
They’re self-sufficient, living in their home in the hill like a little family.
I feel useless beside them. Like a child learning to walk.
Isabel stops beside a river, the water rushing by in a hissing fury and the sound of a waterfall nearby.
The ground is spongy beneath Sapphira’s feet as she bounces to a stop, nearly running into Isabel who opens her journal to show her and Kaelen a sketch colored with rough smudges of ink, with notes in small script that are difficult to read.
It looks like another language to Sapphira.
“This is a turtle rose. We’re going to collect some of it for a special dessert tonight,” Isabel says, pointing to her drawing of an egg-shaped dodecahedron.
“What is it?” Sapphira asks, staring at the drawing.
“It’s a rare and tasty fruit that’s found at the highest peaks of the rockiest mountains and can be opened only in the rain. It’s near impossible to get into them otherwise.”
“But it isn’t raining,” Kaelen says, looking up at the cloudless sky.
“Great detective skills,” Sapphira says, earning herself a glare.
“No, it isn’t raining,” Isabel says, ignoring their bickering. “But the turtle rose won’t know that. We will imitate rain to get the shell to open up.”
“Can’t we just smash it open? Snip it from the stem?” Sapphira asks.
Isabel looks appalled at the suggestion.
“No. First, the stems are too short and burrow underground. Second, the turtle rose is a limited resource, and I won’t deplete it.
This way is humane and sustainable, and the flower can regrow within a year.
If you damage it, it will hurt and kill the turtle rose. ”
Kaelen whispers, “Barbarian.”
Feeling thoroughly chastised, Sapphira hangs her head. “Right, no hurting the flower. And how do you expect us to get it if it lives on the most dangerous mountain?”
Clouds surround the peak of Mount Solarion, where rose-hued sunlight, like the jaws of heaven, beams down on the jungle surrounding the summit.
Kaelen puffs out his chest and steps forward. His hair looks nearly white in the glaring sun. “That’s where I come in,” he says confidently. “I can get Isabel up there easily.” He looks at Sapphira. “You’ll have to walk though.”
“Kaelen . . .” Isabel gives him a pointed look.
He rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll take you both up there. But don’t let Sapphira pull my hair,” he huffs.
Sapphira looks between them with confusion. “You’re going to get us up there . . . with what? I know your head is big, but it’s not big enough to reach that peak.”
The two begin to bicker, and Isabel shouts to get their attention. “Stop it, you two. You’ll have to get along eventually, so just suck it up.”
Kaelen looks at Isabel and turns up his pointed nose. “She’ll be better soon and can go home, so I don’t think that is true.”
“If we can find her home,” Isabel reminds him. “But for now, she is a guest, and you should treat her respectfully.”
“But she—”
Isabel makes a zipping motion with her hand. “Respect, Kaelen.”
Sapphira holds back her smile. She doesn’t want that anger directed toward her. Isabel may be sweet, but she can be scary when she’s upset.
“Now shift,” Isabel says. “Or you won’t be getting any more pie, cake, or tart,” she adds when he tries to object. “For a month!”
Biting back his objection, Kaelen walks away from the two women and stretches his neck and shoulders. Sapphira still needs clarification on what he is trying to do.
His skin ripples, and his limbs relocate, changing him swiftly into a beast-like creature with thick, pink-tipped silver fur and a feline face.
She nearly falls back onto her butt in shock.
A strangle-like cry leaves her lips as the creature grows in size until it stands almost as high as the nearest tree.
“What the—”