"Evidence of what?"
"Of the conspiracy." Vyrathion watches the gathering with profound distrust.
I have to hide a smile with one hand. “What conspiracy?”
"You may laugh now," he growls. "But when they turn on you, remember that I warned you."
“I don’t think there’s a conspiracy,” I tell him. “I just think they’re looking for someone to serve. They chose you, and then Clyde chose me. I really didn’t want that.
The Plood conspiracy continues for a while, with more and more rocks and leaves and useless items piling up. I squat down and quickly go through the rocks, but if any of them contain gold, I can’t tell.
“We have no time for this.” Vyrathion starts walking anyway, forcing the rest of us to follow. The little misshapen Plood immediately falls into step beside me. A surprising number of the others decide to come along as well. By the time we're moving through the jungle again, we appear to have acquired an entourage.
I glance behind us and count at least twenty Plood following in a loose procession through the undergrowth. Some carry leaves. Others carry yellow stones or flowers. One proudly displays a collection of empty insect shells.
Vyrathion looks over one shoulder and scowls at the procession. The Plood continue waddling after us with cheerful determination, carrying their various treasures as though participating in some important ceremony.
"I don't think they need much encouragement," I try to explain.
"That would explain a great deal about their species," he replies.
We walk for a while. The jungle seems brighter than it did yesterday, though perhaps I'm simply becoming accustomed to it. The usual background hiss of the living woods is still present, but it doesn’t bother me. Somewhere nearby, something large crashes through dense vegetation before apparently reconsidering its plans and heading elsewhere.
More Plood join the entourage, hands full of offerings and tribute, all in some tone of yellow. I suppose rumors travel fast in a species that seems to communicate telepathically.
I pick berries and fruits in passing, and I’m half tempted to command Clyde to get me some nuts and better fruits than the ones we happen to pass. But I don’t know how fragile this arrangement is, and the last thing I want is for dozens of Plood to heap up a huge pile of fruits.
After a while I start noticing something odd: Vyrathion keeps looking at me. He turns his head and stares while walking
At first I assume I'm imagining it. Then it happens again. A few minutes later it happens once more.
Finally I stop walking and look up at him. "What? Is there something on my face?"
"Not right now. I’m merely observing."
"Observing what?"
“You.” He resumes walking. “You sometimes mutter spells, and I see you collecting items.”
I hurry after him, pushing aside a branch that swings into my face. “Spells? They’re not spells. I just talk to myself, that’s all. And I get those berries because I have to eat something.”
“Ah. Because they may also be the ingredients of potions. But of course I wouldn’t know.”
“Neither would I.”
Potions? Is he losing his mind? I decide to not encourage him with more talk about that.
We continue walking through the jungle. The Plood follow. Birds shriek somewhere overhead. A minute passes before Vyrathion speaks again.
"If you were secretly allied with Praxigor, would you admit it?"
I nearly trip over a root. "What?"
"It's a simple question. And as yet, it has gone unanswered."
"I don’t understand the question."
He fixes me with that silvery gaze. "I think you do. It’s quite simple. And your attempts to stall are an answer as good as any."
