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“Where did she go?” Madi shakes her head. “I don’t want to lose her on the first day.”
“I think I saw her go left, but there’s no need to worry,” I reassure her. “It makes one big loop, and I’m pretty sure she’s too big to fit through the gaps in the fence.”
Madi huffs. “How are you so at ease all the time?”
“It could have something to do with my element. But it could also be that I had a better welcome than you did,” I confess. “Isolde has done everything in her power not to overwhelm me or drop too much information in my lap. It’s been a lot of learning and growing. Less survival and running.”
A moment passes, and I worry I’ve said too much. But Madi smiles as she turns to me.
“I’m happy I came here. I should have come sooner.”
“You’re here now. We’ll get this island sorted.”
She snorts. “You grossly overestimate my organizational abilities.”
“No. I don’t. I know your slob.”
We laugh at old memories, and though we end on a sigh, it doesn’t feel heavy with tension or regret.
The little fox darts from under a bush, chasing a caterpillar. All we can see is the tip of her tail as she weaves through Isolde’s garden.
“Hey, come back,” Madi calls.
We follow her to the other end of the stream where she has stopped to drink from the crisp, clean water. I hang back as Madi approaches her new familiar. They need time to bond.
“Hey,” she softly repeats. “What’s your name?”
Madi sits on the ground beside the fox, leaning her back against the only plantless section of the fence.
I wander away, focusing on the bugs in the garden to find the anomaly. The butterflies are all gigantic and multicolored, shining in the sunlight. But there’s always that one that isn’t quite like the others.
I lean in, whispering as quietly as possible. “We need to talk soon. It’s past due.”
“Ada,” Madi yells, laughter in her voice. “Where’d you go?”
“Over here,” I tell her.
She rounds the small bend, her lips bright red. And I freeze as terror sweeps through me.
“Don’t eat that, Madi. The crab berry fruit is toxic.” Though even as I say it, I begin to wonder...
She rolls her eyes. “It’s fine. I’ve eaten them before. They’re actually kind of sweet, like a super ripe strawberry. But all they really do is turn my tongue red.”
“And your lips,” I point out. “Didn’t anyone tell you that the seeds will kill the natives?”
“You mean these?” she asks, sticking her tongue out to show the candy-red stain and several seeds. She swallows them. “I already died, Ada.”
“When?”
“I died to get here to the Mongrels,” she quietly admits. “Nesta killed me. I know she did, but yet, here I am.”
I study Madigan as she offers a bit of her snack to the nameless fox. It sniffs her hand and tentatively takes the last bite of the sweet fruit, minus the toxic seeds…
And I have an idea. I mean, we’ll have to run it by Isolde. I don’t know if it will work. But now I’m wondering if it’s just the goddesses that can handle the toxic and poisonous things on this island, or if the last set of queens can, too.
Because if they can’t... Then maybe we can make wine with the crab berry fruit and seeds.
Would Nesta fall for a peace offering, one I brought as a gift under the guise of wanting to talk about joining her side?
