Nirrin (Forestfolk, Book 3)

Chapter 11b

"I can't believe tree fungus can taste so good," Orlo exclaimed, reaching for the ladle.

I slapped his hand, causing his three eyes to blink. "No seconds until everyone's had some."

"Not everyone wants some," he said hopefully.

I glanced at Illis, who leaned against a tree watching us, her stripes practically making her blend into the shadows. "Oh, they do. They're just waiting to make sure I didn't poison the stew."

Orlo's eyes widened with apprehension, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him.

I patted his arm. "I guess you'll just have to find out the hard way."

He laughed nervously and backed away.

"What is that divine smell?"

I heard the voice of Minocken before I saw him. He emerged from the forest, his small snout sniffing the air. Then he saw me next to the pot of stew, and his smile disappeared.

Fen appeared behind him, a medium-sized deer slung around his shoulders. With alarm, I noticed one arm was covered in blood. Then I realized it was from the deer's throat, which had been gruesomely ripped out.

Minocken came closer. Close enough for me to see the hastily wiped blood around his mouth and chin. Had he actually ripped the deer's throat out . . . with his teeth?

I shivered involuntarily.

"What is this?" he asked, peering suspiciously into the pot.

"Squirrel stew!" I held up a bowl. "Try some?"

He opened his mouth, no doubt about to lambaste me, but then looked around him at the others eagerly slurping up their stew. He closed his mouth with a huff and stalked away, joining Illis by the tree.

Fen grinned at me. "I will definitely try some. Give me a moment." He deposited the deer carcass at the skinning table and returned, his eyes sparkling with eagerness.

He took the filled bowl I handed him, and we settled on the covered wood pile. He spooned a bite into his mouth and closed his eyes. "Mmmm."

I felt inordinately pleased with myself.

"Surely, you must be Gifted," he said, spooning another bite.

I often helped with meal preparations at home. I also followed Siena into the woods sometimes when I was younger, watching her forage for herbs.

I rolled my eyes. "I think anything is better than burnt meat and bitter roots."

A chuckle rumbled in his throat, and the sound made me smile. "You might be right." He dipped his spoon into the bowl again, and came up with a smooth, oblong lump.

I perked up. "You got a heart! You get to make a heart-wish now."

His brow scrunched. "A heart-wish?"

I thought back to when Bren told us the superstition, designed to give children hope, or just something fun to do during meals. Most kids grew out of the silly tradition, but I still clung to it. "The heart was where the soul of the animal resided," I said, remembering how wide-eyed I'd been when I first heard this. "And now that the vessel is empty, we fill it with a wish, so it can fulfill one last task."

Fen smiled. "I like that sentiment. Has it ever worked for you?"

"Not really." I stole a flirty glance at him. "But maybe it's starting to."

A pink tint seeped up his neck and onto his face. He turned his attention back to his spoon. "Well, I'd better make it good, then." He closed his eyes, pressed his lips together as if wishing hard, and then popped the little lump into his mouth.

Curious, I couldn't help asking, "What did you wish for?"

"Peace," he answered right away.

"Do you not have peace here?"

His eyes flicked to Minocken, who spoke quietly with Illis in the shadows. "Not as much as I'd like."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated."

Sensing he wasn't going to elaborate, I changed topics. "I'm surprised you told me your wish. Most people don't."

He gave me a curious look. "You asked."

"You're a straightforward guy." I patted his knee. "I like that."

He looked at his knee for a moment. "How is it you don't mind touching me?"

"If you were covered in slime, I might mind." I gave him a teasing smile.

"I'm serious. Normals take one look at me and think I need to be put down."

"Put down, as in insulted?"

"More like killed."

My mouth dropped open. "I think you've been hanging out with the wrong people."

"The Aberrations are my people. We stick together."

I thought about their temporary dwellings and barely edible food. "The Forestfolk could be your people."

His scowled. "Because they were so welcoming the first time around."

"Hey, that reminds me, you never did tell me what you were doing there."

He dropped his eyes and took another bite of stew.

"Come on," I chided. "I just said you were straightforward. Don't make a liar out of me."

He sighed and set his spoon down. "I was scouting."

"For what?"

He nibbled the inside of one cheek while he considered his answer. "Other Aberrations."

My eyebrows went up. "Like, to make friends?"

"Sort of." His eyes slid away from me again.

Why was he acting so cagey? And if he was snooping around Foresthome on friendly terms, then why would Galen sense some kind of danger? Something didn't add up. "What do you mean by 'sort of'?"

"Well, um." He stirred his stew. "Sometimes we . . ."

I sighed impatiently at his reticence. "A complete thought would be nice. Sometimes we . . . what, like to wear pants on our heads? Pretend we're exotic birds?"

He laughed nervously. "No, nothing like that." He nibbled inside his cheek again, but was saved from answering when Minocken put a clawed hand on Fen's shoulder.

Wait, were those really claws?

"I think you've said enough," Minocken growled.

Fen looked up at the man's snarling face and shrank a little, nodding in acquiescence.

"Good man," Minocken said, patting him on the shoulder before walking away.

I frowned. "What was that about?"

Fen stirred his stew again. "I'm not supposed to talk about certain things."

"What is he, your keeper? You could stomp him in a fight. Easily."

A corner of his mouth curved up. "He's like an older brother to me. I grew up with him. Look up to him, actually."

I gave Minocken's retreating back a sour look. "Maybe you need new idols to look up to."

He shook his head. "He's just protecting me."

"From me? What did I do?"

"Nothing. He resents all Normals."

"And you? What do you think of . . . Normals?" It felt strange to be lumped in with a group of resented people.

"I feel the same." He paused. "Felt the same." He sipped a spoonful of stew, swallowed, and lifted his eyes back up to me. "I might start making exceptions."

I barely contained a smirk of glee.

I'd say she has something to smirk about. (And vote for!)