Chapter Three

 

It was past noon by the time Stern found the first dark willow shoot. The small, black growth was barely a hand’s length above the ground. “Hold up!” Stern called out. “Found one.”

 

Reaching to the side of his bag, he pulled the spade free, then knelt down and carefully dug around the shoot. While he worked, Cyra came over to see what the plant looked like, and Trish kept a passive watch on the area.

 

“That’s it?” Cyra asked.

 

“They might grow up to a foot, but most are only a few inches tall,” Stern said.

 

“Oh, I had no idea.”

 

“It’s a common component in a lot of alchemy concoctions,” Stern explained. “I’m sure the quest was reposted an hour after we took it.”

 

“Then why ask for a set amount?” Cyra asked.

 

“To make sure they get enough to be useful,” Trish answered. “If we bring more than twenty, I’m sure the quest giver will be more than happy to take them from us.”

 

“I see...” Cyra said slowly. “I still have a lot to learn.”

 

“I’d say over half the Walkers at our level have no idea how useful black willow shoots are,” Stern said. “I do because I’ve talked with alchemists. Well, my parents did, but I was there, so I learned, too.”

 

“And I heard it from other crafters,” Trish grinned. “The raw goods go to specific types of crafters. I used leather and metal, but the tanners and smelters took the raw goods, not me.”

 

Done digging, Stern wrapped his hands around the plant, then yanked hard. There was a crunching pop sound, and the shoot came free of the ground. Broken just above the root ball, Stern nodded and set it aside.

 

“Why didn’t the roots come with it?” Cyra asked.

 

“Because those roots are sunk into this tree,” Stern said, pushing the loose dirt back over the root ball. “This shoot will regrow in a few weeks. They’re nearly impossible to kill.”

 

“Sunk into the tree?”

 

“They’re a type of parasite,” Trish said. “They pull the nutrients they need out of the tree they’re next to. Normally, it’s willows, but like this one, they’ll use other trees.”

 

“But…” Cyra started, then trailed off.

 

“If allowed to continue growing to their full length, they’ll kill the tree,” Stern said. “They’ll drain it dry and then, after a couple of years, they start to become true dark willows.”

 

“Which is a plant monster,” Cyra said, thinking about one of the monsters she’d learned about from Stern.

 

“Yup. Hard to kill monster, too,” Trish agreed, “unless you get them before they start to grow leaves.”

 

“When the leaves grow, they become mobile,” Stern said. “In the north, there are some dark willows that reach thirty feet tall or more.”

 

“So when they have leaves, they can latch onto people and drain them?” Cyra said questioningly.

 

“Yup,” Trish nodded.

 

“Shouldn’t we dig the root ball out and kill it, then?” Cyra asked.

 

“No,” Stern said. “If people did that, we’d run out of the shoots. The shoots are used in the healing salves, among other items. As Walkers, we need those.”

 

“Oh…” Cyra murmured, clearly thinking.

 

“Circle of life,” Trish said.

 

“But like this, they’re harmless?” Cyra asked.

 

“Yes. If it has even a single leaf growing, though, it can try stabbing you,” Stern said, “which is why you always check the shoot before digging. The closer to the root ball, the more likely it can hurt you.”

 

“I see. Can I dig up the next one?”

 

“Sure,” Stern said. “Could you reattach the spade, please?” He stood up, holding the shovel out to her as he slipped the shoot into a bag on his hip.

 

“Of course.”

 

Cyra was reaching for the spade when a chitter came from above them. Stern shoved Cyra back, using the force to fling himself backward, too. An angry scurrifly landed where they’d been standing a moment before. The monstrous flying squirrel was large— a couple of feet long and wide with its wings extended. Its bony tail just missed Stern as it hit the ground.

 

There was a yowl from a dozen yards away as Pawly rushed back toward them. She didn’t get the chance to reach them, as Trish had spun at the first chitter. When the beast landed, Trish smashed down with her hammer. The scurrifly’s head cracked open and the rodent spasmed a moment before going still.

 

“And that’s why one of us should always be on guard,” Trish said. “Are you two okay?”

 

“Yes,” Cyra said, leveraging herself back to her feet. “I had no idea they were so big.”

 

“They’re more long than wide, normally,” Stern said. “We’re fine, Pawly.”

 

Pawly came bounding back to them, then sniffed. She approached the dead mob and sniffed it before sneezing. After pawing it once, she nodded.

 

“Why did it attack?” Cyra asked.

 

“We were close to its tree,” Stern said. “That chitter came from above us.” He pointed into the branches above them. “We must have woken it up.”

 

“That would be my guess, too,” Trish agreed.

 

“Are we going to skin it?” Cyra asked.

 

“Not worth it,” Stern sighed. “Only their tails are worth a damn.” He picked up the dead beast by the tail. “Look at their fur.”

 

Cyra did, denoting the mottled look of the fur, then gingerly touched its back. “That’s stiff.”

 

“Now touch its tail,” Stern said.

 

Cyra did and frowned. “That’s soft... What’s that on the end of it?”

 

Stern used his thumb to prop the tail end up, showing off the bony knob there. “A weapon and counter weight. When they glide, they use their tail weight to keep them level. And yeah, the fur is very soft, which is why people want their tails.”

 

“Oh...”

 

Stern pulled a dagger to collect the tail. Pushing the carcass against the tree, he cut the tail off right at the base of the monster. He had to saw a little, as the tendon holding it in place was a tough one.

 

“I hate wasting them, but something here will find it and eat it,” Trish sighed.

 

“Pawly, do you want it?” Stern asked.

 

“Should she?” Cyra interjected.

 

Pawly chuffed, bumping Cyra with her head before moving over to the body on the ground. With a single bite, Pawly chomped the carcass in half. Cyra turned away, not watching the sight, and then started to walk to get away from the sounds of it. Trish went with her, giving Stern a look. Stern sighed, staying with Pawly as she finished off her snack.

 

When Stern caught back up to them, he fell into step with Cyra. “You okay?”

 

“Yes. I just wasn’t prepared for her to eat it like that,” Cyra said. “I’m fine, now.”

 

“Are you sure?” Stern asked gently.

 

“I think so. I’ll get used to it,” Cyra said. “I think it was just the fact that it was intact. The crunch of the bones…” She trailed off with a shiver.

 

“Hmm, okay. We’ll let her have them when we’re leaving the area,” Stern said.

 

“Are they really safe for her?” Cyra asked him.

 

“She’s never gotten sick from food,” Stern said. “Even then, if I send her home and summon her back, I’m sure that it would be fine.”

 

“Okay,” Cyra said. “Half of it was the brutal sight and sound, and the other was worrying that Pawly would get sick or choke on a bone.”

 

“We wouldn’t let that happen to her,” Trish said. “If she shows any distress, Stern will send her home.”

 

Cyra nodded, exhaling. “I know. It was just a worry.”

 

“Better now?” Stern asked.

 

“Yes. Sorry.”

 

“I’m not going to let you apologize for worrying about my best friend,” Stern said. “I’m glad you and Trish care for her.”

 

“Of course we do,” Trish smiled.

 

They lapsed into silence as they walked through the woods. Pawly chuffed ahead of them, having heard everything, a smile on her muzzle.

 

~*~*~

 

They found two more of the dark willow shoots and killed three more scurriflies as they went. Cyra had tried to pull one of the shoots, but found that she couldn’t manage it.

 

Cyra did hit one of the scurriflies when it came gliding out of a tree, screaming at them. It had been problematic, as she’d pinned it to the tree a good twenty feet up. Stern was able to climb up enough to snap the bolt, bringing both him and the carcass falling down to the ground. He was fine, with only his pride getting hurt.

 

By the third snack for Pawly, Cyra didn’t turn green. She even stood not too far away, waiting for Pawly to finish her meal. Trish was impressed with how quickly Cyra adapted. That did prompt a question from Cyra, though, about how much food Pawly could eat.

 

“She never seems to get full,” Stern said. “She just normally eats what we give her happily. But yeah, three of those should have filled her up.”

 

Pawly meowed at them, giving them sad eyes.

 

“Or not,” Trish laughed.

 

Pawly chuffed and bumped Trish’s hip with her large head.

 

“We’ll make you little for bed,” Stern told her. “The tent will already be snug with three of us in it.”

 

Cyra’s steps slowed as they walked away. “Oh, right.”

 

“I’m going to sleep between you two,” Trish smirked. “I’m going to enjoy it.”

 

“I slept next to him before and it was fine,” Cyra said softly. “In the tent, in fact.”

 

“That’s true,” Stern agreed, “but will you be comfortable with it?”

 

“I think so,” Cyra said. “Can I sleep between you both tonight?”

 

Stern and Trish exchanged a glance, smiles crossing both of their faces.

 

“Yes,” Stern agreed.

 

“Of course. We just thought we’d ease you into it, but if you want to dive right in, go ahead,” Trish grinned.

 

“Speaking of,” Stern said, looking at the setting sun, “we should find a place to camp for the night.”

 

“How many days is it to Waterrock?” Cyra asked.

 

“A week by road,” Trish said. “Going like we are, closer to two.”

 

“Oh. We’ll have plenty of time to change up who sleeps where, then.”

 

Stern gave her a sideways glance, feeling her hope. “That’s true. If you handle tonight well, we can rotate who gets to be in the middle.”

 

Trish’s eyes sparkled. “And if it’s me, you can both have fun.”

 

Cyra blushed and Stern just shook his head.

 

They found a good spot a few minutes later. Cyra stayed to set camp, while Trish went to grab firewood and Stern took Pawly out hunting.

 

Coming back into camp as the sun finished setting, Stern handed Cyra the gutted rabbit. “Here you go.”

 

“Oh, skinned and gutted,” Cyra said, taking the rabbit. “That’ll make this quicker.”

 

“Only one?” Trish asked.

 

“Yeah. It’s the only thing that I found nearby. The game might start showing up more after tomorrow when we get farther from the city.”

 

“Good point.”

 

“Nice collection of firewood,” Stern said, looking at the small stack.

 

“Found a downed tree. Was easy enough to use the hatchet to pull the bigger limbs off and trim them down. Been dead for a while, so it burns well.”

 

The sizzle of cooking meat came just before the scent did. All three of them felt hungry, and their stomachs soon rumbled in agreement.

 

“This is nice,” Cyra said as she watched the food cook. “Even more than when it was just Stern and I.”

 

Pawly huffed.

 

“Stern, Pawly, and I,” Cyra amended.

 

“Meow.”

 

“Sorry,” Cyra said, giving Pawly a smile before mixing the meat and vegetables in the pan.

 

“How was that?” Trish asked. “Just the two of you traveling. No issues?”

 

“None of that kind,” Cyra said. “Stern’s never triggered those reactions in me.” She suddenly blushed a deep red.

 

Stern chuckled at her surge of embarrassment.

 

“What?” Trish asked, wanting to know.

 

Cyra covered her face for a moment before exhaling loudly. “The, uh… the first night, I… might have cuddled him.”

 

Trish’s eyebrows went up, and she gave Stern a surprised look.

 

Stern chuckled. “Hang on. It was freezing, and we were back-to-back, sharing the blankets when we went to bed. When I woke up, she was curled up to my back with her arm and leg over me.”

 

Trish began to laugh and Cyra blushed more. “She was the one holding you?”

 

“She was only trying to get warm,” Stern sighed.

 

“I dreamt a fluffy cat was there to warm me up...” Cyra muttered.

 

“Well, he has a fluffy kitty,” Trish laughed harder.

 

Cyra was flushed red, but she giggled. “It’s fine now. I wonder if I’ll do it again, though?”

 

Trish grinned. “If you do, I’ll be holding you, too.”

 

Stern was the one blushing now. “I… wouldn’t object.”

 

Cyra snuck a glance at him, her heart soaring and her hope high as she went back to cooking.