I paled. I didn’t want to remember the big orange spider. Ever. “I…need to change the subject. You know what, I’ll go out and pick some raspberries.” I stood and put my empty glass in the sink.
“Do. I’m making vinné for dinner tonight, and they’ll go great with fresh berries.”
There was a basket on the cabinet used for fruit picking, and I grabbed it. “Are you going to turn the raspberries into, erm, dissent jelly?”
“Oh, you mean disset? I hadn’t thought to. It’s usually cooked with a tuber that turns to jelly when you heat it. Like pectin. Hmm. I guess I could try to flavor the raspberries like disset. Which reminds me—Vergis said you fell in love with massa buns when you were on Aër?”
I gasped. “Those damn cilantro raisin massacre buns! No. They’re one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever eaten. No offense to Lugarran culture or cuisine,” I hurried to add.
Kinnek tilted his head. “None taken. Charles is very much with you on the…massacre buns, but I thought maybe massa was like blue cheese or natto to the human palate; either a favorite or very much not.”
I made a face. “Very much not. Vergis and his fudging jokes.”
Kinnek giggled. “He called you a ‘bearable human’ the other day. Don’t take his jabs too personally. I was lucky to run into Charles and that Charles didn’t give a single fuck about the horns or me being blue and pregnant. Let’s just say my baby wasn’t always as lucky as me when interacting with humans.”
Well, that made sense. It also made me feel bad for Vergis all over again, Vergis, who’d have happily fed me massacre buns and dropped dead pigeons on me. Not to mention that memorable incident with the furious bear. Or the bloodworm. We’d had a lot of incidents together, come to think of it.
“I’m…really sorry.” I gripped the basket’s handle tightly.
“Not your fault, sweet pea. Remember, his daddy taught him where to punch any bigoted assholes so it’d hurt—something he took to much faster than most five-year-old bagua I’ve known.” Kinnek’s face turned dreamy. “He’s always been so talented.”
“Ah. Well, that’s…impressive.”
Kinnek nodded. “I know! He’s such a cute little marvel.”
Since I didn’t want to talk any more about how the cute little marvel had learned to maim and murder, I waved my basket and excused myself.
Fellisse was outside helping Charles with the tomatoes, tying them to poles. He stood up and clicked when he saw me.
“Rory! Put your hat on if you’re going out. We don’t want you to get sick with sunstroke.”
Charles snorted. “Sunburn, more likely.”
Fellisse grunted. He watched me in a way that made very clear he would grab me and carry me back inside to put a hat on me if I didn’t do it myself.
“Oh, fine.” I threw up my hands but turned on my heel. “I was just going to pick berries.” I waved the basket for emphasis. Fellisse looked unimpressed, and Charles was already back to the tomatoes. The man had a talent for remaining unfazed that I deeply admired. That a flamethrower was his solution to a problem didn’t really surprise me.
Five minutes later, with my hat firmly in place, I headed out to the berries. The bushes were next to the fruit trees, between the vegetable patch and the larger potato, bean, and pumpkin patch.
I walked through the rows made by branches heavy with fruit or flowers preparing to become fruit, minding the thorns as I picked the ripest red and golden raspberries, and some blueberries.
I ate probably as many as I picked. It was so nice, being out here with nothing to do and nothing lurking just around the corner, waiting to eat me. Tonight, I’d sleep in Inkiri’s arms, and nothing would change that. Things were good, better than I deserved.
I smiled, thinking about how I’d bring Inkiri some of these berries before handing them over to Kinnek for jelly making. Inkiri and Lissir had been restringing some fairy lights in the garden earlier. A yellow butterfly fluttered past the new growth branches of the berries and toward the sun, and I smiled as I looked after it…and froze.
A Koa Esher stood at the end of the raspberry row, clad in muddy white clothes that definitely looked like they’d seen better days, his twisted horns dull in the sunlight.
We both looked at each other for a moment that stretched. Then he said something and raised his hands, palms out, and I reacted out of fear and instinct.
I clutched the basket tightly and called for the presence.
It came immediately. Such bright kennings of fear in you, it said, more to itself than me. Which was weird. Maybe I could have a conversation with it about how weird it was that it was talking to itself while being in my head, but not right then.
I need my guys. And Kinnek. And the flamethrower.
Or did I need the cola asshat on fire? I wasn’t sure. An icy wind rushed toward the Koa Esher. He turned his head away, shielding his face with his hands.
“Rory!” Fellisse’s voice was close, and he sprinted around the raspberries just a second later, a knife in hand that was most decidedly not a gardening tool.
