by SJ Fleming
A small fire was soon burning, kept off of direct contact with the wood with a small mat of moss. Suzy was boiling a pot of water, one of those strange silver pots that were often brought up from the Undergrowth, decorated with a series of grooves and just barely bigger than one’s hand. A tincan, she had called it.
Needles roiled around in the water, giving off the waxy-sweet smell that characterized the pine.
“I found the tree growing directly out of the Yggdrasil. I do hope it’s not a parasite or something of that nature. My genetic analysis showed it to be extremely similar to a pine tree, however.”
“Yeah,” Tulip said. “Yggdrasil has trees that grow off of it. They’re parasites, in a technical sense. But very useful ones.”
“Ah, thank you! And you are?”
“Tulip.”
“Tulip! Interesting name! Are all Gaians named after a plant of some form?”
Willow nodded. “In our Stamen, yes. Plants, mostly. Outside of there, I’m not sure. I don’t travel too far from home if I can help it.”
“I see! Now, I heard the scrap outside, and I had some worries. What happened, Willow?” Suzy turned to her, picking up the boiling can without any sort of protection. “I shall cool off the tea now, if that is okay.”
“Well, uh,” Willow scratched the back of her neck. “You see, uh, Tulip here was…under the impression that you wished to cause me some form of harm. Rumor mill and all that, you understand.”
“I see.”
“And as he was, uh, asking me these questions, he got a little aggressive.” She saw Tulip giving her the stink-eye from the corner of her vision. “So, I, uh, got concerned and stepped back, and I slipped off of the branch.”
“I…I see. Well, that is certainly dangerous on Tulip’s part.”
“Now, see, I don’t think that Willow’s version of events is particularly fair.”
Suzy’s tone changed almost instantly. Where she was once calm and collected, her voice took on a grating, angry quality, as close to fury as Willow had ever seen her get.
“I observed the entire sequence of events, Tulip. Do not attempt to downplay your role or, God forbid, attempt to absolve yourself of blame. I am asking for Willow’s version of events as she was the one who nearly lost her life, and no matter what you think happened, the undeniable fact is that if you had not been present, she would not have been at risk.”
Tulip clenched his fists and inhaled sharply. He was shaking, trying to contain whatever anger he felt. At himself, at Suzy, or at Willow. Willow hoped it was self-directed, if only for the avoidance of further tension. Right now, the entire world felt like it was a too-tight tendon, about to snap and cripple all of them.
“You…metal piece of shit,” he whispered. “You piece of fucking shit!” He grabbed Suzy’s arm, and jerked it back as hard as he could. Hot tea flew everywhere, soaking Suzy’s face and chest. She didn’t flinch whatsoever.
Instead, she just carefully picked off the pine needles. “You,” she said, “are extremely lucky that I have been programmed to be Three Laws compliant.”
Tulip seemed to calm down a little bit. Not much, Willow could still see the malice in his eyes and feel the hot anger coming off of him, but at least now he didn’t seem like he was about to punch someone out. Perhaps some illusion of rationality and dignity could guide the conversation now.
“So,” Willow folded her hands on her lap. “Suzy saved me and helped you. She’s offered to make us tea, and has been nothing but exceptionally lovely.”
Suzy smiled and hid her face. “Oh, Willow, don’t embarrass me.”
“I think that at the very least, Tulip, you owe her an apology for splashing tea on her, and very likely more.”
“You do not owe me anything, I understand emotions can get high sometimes. Do not worry about it,” Suzy reassured Tulip.
He rubbed his face, and mumbled something to himself about how he couldn’t believe what was happening or what he was doing.
“Suzy, I am…sorry. You are not what I expected. I was wrong.”
“I accept your apology. You did not harm me. I hope that we may be able to communicate on better terms now.” Her voice lost that grating edge, bit by bit, until it returned to its previous tranquility. “However, I will request that you do not speak of the events of this day to your Stamen. Not because I do not wish to be known there, but because I know I am already a source of turmoil.”
Tulip scowled. “That’s going to be a little hard to do, given you’re one of the bigger topics nowadays. The Woundmender’s only gone and told every one of his students all about how threatening you are to our way of life, after all.”
“Perhaps you could then provide a counternarrative? If you truly wish to make amends and seek forgiveness, as your apology implies, then I see there to be a perfect opportunity to provide a counter to the claims. You need not mention today’s events, but simply say that Willow has spoken to you and refuted the claims of the Woundmender.” Suzy stood up, shaking off the last pieces of pine. “Now, would you two like some fresh tea? It will not take me long to make.”
“Uh, no…” Willow said. “I think that we should actually be heading home now.”
“I see. Safe travels, then!”
Willow and Tulip left, going back to the Stamen. Their conversation back was terse, awkward. Neither of them bothered with niceties.
“So,” Tulip said.
“So.” Willow replied.
“I’m still not happy with this situation.”
Willow crossed her arms as she walked, keeping herself behind Tulip just in case he decided to try something. As far as she was concerned, he wasn’t above reuniting her with the spirits prematurely.
“There is no situation in which you are happy, it seems,” she spat. “I stand with Suzy. Tell no one of these events, unless you want to fact you nearly killed me to the town gossip right alongside my ‘consorting’ with Suzy.”
“I... I understand.”
“Good,” Willow said. The two of them parted in their opposite directions once they got to the Stamen proper. Willow kept her eyes on Tulip. Last thing she needed was to have slip again ‘accidently’ on the way home.
CHAPTER SIX
Willow was helping a fisherman gut their catch, idly throwing the viscera of a fat carp into the little stream that cut into the village. The crawdads and minnows that lived in the river would appreciate it, though someone who went to bathe may have thought differently. The new knife was supremely helpful in the task, though Willow did make note of the strange looks she got here and there. No one had yet asked her where she had gotten it, leaving her to assume they already figured out its origin. Or at least, as much of the origin as she wanted them to know.
The fisherman threw another fish towards Willow. It landed with a wet slap a few feet from her. Willow pushed the gutted fish away and repeated the process. No complaint, no idle talk. She just worked away, washing her hands in the stream between every fish. It was something to occupy her hands and keep her thoughts from anger. Anger, betrayal, and disappointment.
Disappointment was the most pronounced, and multilayered. It hung in her chest, across her body, pressing down like a bag of stones. She blamed herself, mostly. Caution was warranted, yes, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was being far too cautious. Maybe the fact she was holding back made Tulip act as he had. Maybe if Willow had just brought Suzy up, this could all have been resolved. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
And Tulip...damn that absolute...she let out a sigh. His motivations were...she didn’t know. Still bitter towards her for their failed relationship? Lots of people’s relationships failed in the Stamen. Partnership for life was uncommon, particularly for those very young folks as the two of them were at the time. Not even Rose and her, as compatible as they were, had stayed together more than a few years. Young adults with little experience tend not to be the most stable of couples. But even when that had failed, the two of them had stayed friends. There wasn’t bi
tterness between them. Why, then, did Tulip hang on so tightly?
Perhaps he was truly worried, concerned for her safety. If so, he had a very odd way of showing it.
She questioned for a moment why she felt the guilt she did. It didn’t seem rational. Further than that, even. It didn’t make sense, no matter how disconnected from rationality she was. Why did she feel guilty, when it was Tulip who sent her near to her death? Why did she feel ashamed, when it was Tulip who had screamed at her? It didn’t make any sense. Of course, the vow of silence imposed on Tulip meant that she couldn’t talk to anyone about it. She didn’t want to be cast as a hypocrite.
Her own feelings once again roiled inside of her, no outlet in sight save the slimy fish in front of her. Of course, brutalizing food wasn’t exactly acceptable. So, she relegated herself to the work, and didn’t say a word to anyone about anything.
She woke up the next morning with every single bone in her body being sore. She hoped she wasn’t sick, but a stuffy nose and headache told her she was going to be rather unlucky today. Willow groaned as she got out of bed, every joint protesting against her. She hobbled out of her hollow, and descended down to the river. Rose was there, talking with Tulip. Willow made a detour around them, trying to keep herself as far away from Tulip as possible.
All things considered, a nice chat with him didn’t seem to be on the menu today. She tried not to make it obvious, slowly coasting from the river to the side of the Stamen, along the vertical walls of Yggdrasil. She made her way to the Woundmender’s hollow, peeking inside to make sure he was actually awake. He was, sitting at his table and working on a small carving.
“Hello, Woundmender,” Willow said as she stepped inside.
“Ah, hello Willow. How are you?”
“Not great, honestly. I was wondering if you had anything for headaches.”
“Look in my cabinet. Fourth shelf, in the yellow-painted jar. Take a handful and chew it until the headache’s gone.”
Willow did exactly that, grabbing the dry, long strips of bark and shoving them in her mouth. They were bitter, tough, and altogether completely unpleasant. She closed the cabinet and turned to Oak.
“Thank you, Woundmender,” she said between chews. “Can I ask what you’re carving?”
“My spirit totem. One of them, at least. I’m old enough to consider preparing for that. Ninety-two and all that.” He sounded somber and annoyed, as if he was in the middle of deep thought and Willow had just barged in to bother him.
“I... see,” Willow said. Certainly not what she expected to hear. It cast a dark shadow in the room and on their conversation. “Yeah, I guess being prepared is worthwhile.”
“Should have done it after Lily died. I suppose that’s on me, though.” He changed his tone and the topic entirely. He must have sensed the shadow, and wanted it gone. “Anyways, I can take a few minutes off of this if you wished to talk!” He put the totem down and smiled. “I heard that you have some exciting new events, after all!”
“Excuse me?” Willow cocked her head. Did Tulip break the promise of silence already? Was he really that weak-willed and ready to tell people? She tried to hide a scowl.
“Yes, I heard from Tulip that you had quite the interesting object pulled up from the Undergrowth! He told me it was a knife, or something.”
“Oh! Yes, uh,” Willow’s face burned as she tried scrambled for her blade. What in the spirit’s name did Tulip say? And what was he thinking as he spoke? She thought they had an agreement between them. If he broke it, mentioned Suzy, then Willow would...she wasn’t sure what she’d do, but it would be something!
“I found this knife when I was exploring. There was an opening, and I found myself in...uh. A big room. I looked around and found this,” she handed over the sheathed knife.
“Interesting! You yourself found this, you say?”
Willow nodded. “Yes, I did.”
“I see. And that Iron One, did you see it in this large room? In fact, seen it recently at all?”
“Yes, I have,” Willow said. “They encountered me again, and we sat and did some more talking. They didn’t seem to have any...any ill will against me.” If Willow was going to bring Suzy here she would need to at least make her seem non-malevolent. Convincing Woundmender of her benevolence wasn’t likely, but at the very least making her seem like she wouldn’t destroy the community would be a step in the right direction.
“Oh? Are you certain of that? What did you talk to it about?” He sounded concerned, leaning forwards in his chair.
“Nothing really. She just asked about what happened and where people had gone. I... I didn’t tell her much. She sort of...uh...she seems curious about us?”
“I see. Interesting, interesting...so thrice you have encountered, and thrice no harm came to you?”
Willow nodded. Oak sat back, crossing his arms. His face still wore a scowl, and his pose had changed. He was leaning back, his brow furrowed in thought. Willow sighed, and shrugged.
“She just doesn’t seem dangerous to me.”
“Yes, and I am certain that the spider seemed harmless to the fly, ‘til one was caught and the other feasted. Understand, Willow, that I am not saying you are a liar.” Willow cringed when he said that, knowing full well that she was a liar. Knowing full well everything she said was either stretched truth, or outright falsehood. “But I am saying that caution is a virtue. I trust this thing as far as I could throw it. But I keep hearing Juniper talk about it. She...uh, seems to take a very different view. I don’t want discord in this Stamen, understand?”
“Excuse me?” Willow cocked her head. “How...would discord be caused?”
“You know damn well what I’m referring to. I don’t want this issue to go any further than it already has, and Juniper’s been talking about a moot. I want that like I want a hole in my head. Now go.”
Willow stood up and left, taking her knife with her. She...she didn’t quite know what to make of it. In fact, she had not a single coherent thought in her brain. Had Tulip told him? He said Juniper had been speaking about Suzy. Agitating, maybe? A moot, but about what? Did the Woundmender know more than she thought? Spirits above, this hurt her to think about.
Her chest was tight, her heart beat like a drumstick against her ribs, each beat sending pain and uncertainty and tension through her body. It hurt, it hurt so much. She needed to get Suzy here, she needed to make sure Suzy was safe. Just knowing she was out there, alone, hurt her even more. She didn’t even know why. Why did it hurt? Willow knew that Suzy was safe, she knew that Suzy could take care of herself, but the mere act of being away from her seemed to hurt. Why? Why?!
And Oak, for a second, seemed almost sympathetic, but now threatened her? At least, she thought it was a threat. Something malicious underlined it, or maybe that was just Willow overthinking everything yet again.
Tulip was across the river, sitting with some fellows he knew but Willow had never taken the time to know. At least, not further than ‘living in a small village with them’ forced you to know someone. They seemed to be talking lively about something. Willow could almost make out the words they said, fragments of sentences and whatnot. Tulip seemed angry at something, like he was on the losing side of their argument. Everyone else seemed calmer, if not entirely at peace.
Tulip stormed off. Willow didn’t feel like following after him to see what the argument was about. It...it didn’t seem to matter, really. Willow had a plan, a blunt and rather forcible one, that she was going to implement. Her mind might have told her again and again why it was bad, how it could go wrong, but her heart was hardened.
One of the people Tulip had been talking to started walking over to Willow, across a small bridge. She braced herself for the inevitable conversation. The person turned, and went off somewhere else entirely. Willow let out a relieved sigh. Guess I misjudged, she thought to herself as she went off to find something to eat. It was barely noon, and she already wanted today to be over.
She sat herse
lf down by a clay brazier. Inside, charcoal glowed gently, heating a pot of soup suspended on a tripod. The smells of spices and burning charcoal combined into something distinct, yet difficult to explain.
Juniper walked over with a ceramic jug and two cups. She sat down beside Willow and offered her a cup.
“What’s this?”
“Fresh mash. Daffodil gave me this jug, figured drinking alone was probably a bit sad.” She smirked. “Raspberry, I heard.”
Willow nodded. Mash didn’t sound too bad right now, actually. Two cups were poured, the dredges of the crushed berries that gave the drink its name spilling out and floating along the top. The mix was a cloudy red, and smelled sharp. She took a tentative sip. It was mostly raspberry juice, as she had thought. Lightly alcoholic, extremely fragrant. She didn’t bother cutting it with water, that seemed to her to defeat the purpose of alcohol in the first place. Juniper seemed to agree, the two of them sitting there and taking the first sips together.
“Not bad, eh?” Juniper smirked. “I think Daff’s coming along rather well with his brewing.”
“So do I,” Willow nodded.
“So, Willow, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about, if you have a moment.”
Willow closed her eyes. Already she was thinking of a dozen ways this could go wrong, and yet she pushed them all aside. Juniper was trustworthy. Willow knew this. She knew she could trust the Treesinger, it was just a matter of remembering it.
“My apprentices are curious about Suzy. Do you think that, perhaps, she would be ok with meeting some of them? I don’t...I don’t wish to impose on her or anything, I am sure she is stressed enough as is, but if she could come to the Stamen, or if you could take them to see her, I know that they would appreciate it.”
The news struck Willow like a falling free. She almost felt smothered by it, really. Unable to speak for a few seconds, she raised the cup of mash to her mouth. Even if she wasn’t drinking it, any excuse to not speak right now was welcome.