Chapter 63 #2
I spotted a large white bird perched on a branch, so I drew the bowstring taut and aimed without any sudden movements.
Its eyes found mine anyway, and it stared back with haughty indifference.
It was a creature of the forest—it saw no danger in an earthbound thing like me.
But I was a hungry earthbound thing, incapable of feeling any remorse for the animal that was about to become my dinner.
When I released the arrow, it struck the bird's chest dead center.
It plummeted from the tree and hit the muddy ground with a wet thud.
I ran over, ready for a second shot in case it was still alive, but found it stone dead. The arrow had pierced its heart.
“Got one, Adele!”
I grabbed the bird and headed back to her. She was looking around with bright eyes, admiring the swamp. I remembered what she'd said before about the place—that it was dark and… full of butterflies and talking trees?
“Adele?” I lowered the bird, holding it by its feet. “You all right?”
“Yes. Everything's wonderful. Do you see the lights too?”
All I saw around me was the dark swamp. My mood soured.
“Did you drink toxic water?”
She blinked several times, trying to grasp the words as if they were shrouded in fog. Then her eyes went wide.
“Are you crazy? I didn’t drink any—you saw me! I dropped the water when you pulled me.”
She seemed to come back to herself somewhat, but there was still a hazy look in her eyes.
“Then why are you hallucinating? What’s all this about talking butterflies?” I demanded, worried and angry at the same time.
“What butterfly? Of course they don’t talk!”
“You were hallucinating! You were going on about butterflies and talking trees.” I ran my free hand through my hair. Much more of this madness and I’d tear it out. Just what I needed—an intoxicated ally.
“Me? No, I was just walking quietly behind you.” Adele seemed confused too, then spotted the bird in my hands. “Would you look at that! You caught something!”
I heard her stomach growl again. The haze had cleared from her eyes, but I was still worried. I wondered if it was just dehydration or if the water had caused her to hallucinate.
“I’m going to clean it away from our path so the entrails don’t attract predators. I need you to start the fire,” I said, watching how she looked and spoke. “Hand me one of your knives.”
“I’d rather keep looking for our last vial.”
I took the weapon she offered, relieved to have something sharp.
“No, we’re done looking for vials today. We’ll have to leave that for tomorrow morning—the sun is setting and eating is more important right now.”
“What if we don’t have time tomorrow morning?”
“We’ll have time. At dawn, we’ll be able to pinpoint their location and wake up early to get them.
Besides, if we don’t deal with our water and food situation today, we won’t make it to the center tomorrow—we’re too slow and dehydrated.
” I pointed to the horizon, where the sun had already begun its descent. “Start the fire. Nightfall is close.”
“I’m not good at starting fires.”
“And I can’t do both things at the same time.”
“I can try, but I can’t promise I’ll succeed.”
Adele shrugged, and something in the gesture told me she wasn’t going to put much effort into it. That made me stare at her.
“Just so you understand the situation: I can eat raw meat without any issues. Can you? Because with or without fire, I’m having dinner.”
She seemed to get the message. Then, her face scrunching into a grimace, she began searching for stones and dry branches.
I moved as far away as possible without losing my way back and started cleaning the bird using a technique Joan had taught me: removing the skin along with the feathers without making much of a mess.
The bird was large and heavy—enough to feed four people.
But with how hungry we were, there might not be anything left over.
As I finished removing the entrails, something caught my attention.
I circled around an embankment to get a better look and almost cried with relief when I spotted some blue flowers on the branch of a low tree.
When I reached it, I grasped the flower.
It was large and closed tight, shaped like a teardrop with the opening narrower than the base.
It was about the size of my cupped hands, and inside was a red sphere of water.
It had veins too, making it look like a placenta.
I pulled out the knife, cut the four rigid flowers from their stems, and balancing the bird and flowers in my hands, headed back to Adele.
When I arrived, I found a small fire flickering to life.
“Well, look at that—even I couldn’t have gotten a fire going that fast. I think hunger agrees with you, Adele,” I joked as I set the flowers on the ground and approached with the bird.
“I think you’re a closet poet, Kyller. You should try it more often.”
We sat around the fire. I cut the bird into four parts and skewered them on dry branches. I found two thicker branches to use as side supports and wedged them at the edge of the fire. Finally, I placed the meat skewers over the flames and went to get the flowers.
“I found a source of clean water,” I announced.
Adele stared at me, her eyes widening in surprise.
“Why didn’t you call me before?” The Yonserian stood up.
“Sit down. The water is here.” Smiling, I held out two flowers to her. “It’s a species that stores water inside.”
When Adele saw what was inside the flower, her nose wrinkled in disgust. Such a predictable gesture…
“Are you sure about this? It’s disgusting.” She poked at the placenta inside.
“Absolutely sure. The water is pure.”
I stuck my hand inside the flower and pinched the placenta, rupturing it.
The liquid filled its petals, and I raised it to my lips.
It tasted sweet and a bit slimy, but it was still water.
Adele tipped the flower to her mouth, taking large gulps and making a face like she’d just sucked on a lemon.
Then she breathed through her mouth, eyes squeezed shut.
“It’s disgusting. Gods, this is so disgusting!” Despite her revulsion, nothing stopped her from grabbing the other flower and drinking every last drop.
“It’s disgusting, yeah, but it’s all we’ve got.”
I set the dry petals beside me and turned the bird over the fire.
My ally leaned back against a tree and let her shoulders relax.
She was looking better, and part of me felt relieved—two days without water or food would drive anyone half-crazy.
Adele was my partner; she needed to stay healthy to finish the test. While the bird roasted, I studied the Yonserian’s face, streaked with dried blood.
I got up and sat down next to her, which made her frown and scoot away.
“Turn your face toward me,” I said gently.
“Going to kiss me?” She winked at me. “I know you still remember my lips, but it was just one night for me—don’t take it personally.”
I rolled my eyes, wanting to chop her into pieces and roast her alongside the bird.
“Let me see your nose. Adrian broke it—I just want to check if the cartilage is in place.”
“He didn’t break it, just banged it up and burst some blood vessels.” Adele stood up and moved away from me, pretending to check on the bird.
“Don’t act tough. I heard the crack—I just want to make sure it’s set properly. You want a crooked nose after the test?”
I chased her around the fire, and she glared at me like she wanted to smash my face in.
“It’s not broken.”
“Yes, it is. I saw how much it bled.”
Thinking back, Adele’s nose had bled a lot when it broke, but it had stopped bleeding long before my eyebrow did.
“It’s. Not. Broken!” Her eyes told me clearly that there was something more going on.
Suddenly, my mind started connecting the dots. I looked at her hands—they didn’t have any marks from the fire thorn. I raised my own hands and saw that I still had a red stripe from the injury on the first day. That burn should have stung and left a mark for at least three days.
Then it finally clicked. I opened my mouth to say something but shut it again. A drone was perched nearby, and the forest was full of listening devices. If I weren’t so dehydrated, I’d be sweating bullets.
“Yeah, it’s not broken after all—just a hit that made it bleed,” I lied as I sat down, a bit dazed, turning the bird so I wouldn’t have to show my face to the cameras.
She sat down on the other side, equally quiet and alert.
How was this possible? The nurse had injected the blockers, and bypassing that medication should have been impossible. This must be why Adele kept getting knocked around and yet kept walking like she wasn’t hurt. Because she wasn’t.
“In the old days, the Drute peoples believed birds were sacred and magical because they could fly,” I said, still not looking at her. “No one understood how wings worked, and they never managed to copy their movements. If it was supposed to be impossible, how could a bird have magic, right?”
The smell of roasting meat made my stomach growl. With my face still lowered, Adele lifted her eyes to me, and a cynical smile spread across her lips.
“I’d say the wings aren’t magical. Maybe some internal organ was modified to support flight, and they’re just looking in the wrong place. Maybe no one’s seen the modified organ, and now the bird is in trouble because it never expected this either.”