Page 51 of For the Strange and Surprising

“Connak,” I begin to argue. “That doesn’t make any sense. I’ll know when we get there.”

“But you won’t, so come on. Grab your shoes, and let’s go.”

I collect my sandals and begin wrapping the leather straps around my legs. Why is it so hard to tell him no?

I sigh as I stop inside the door. “Is this somewhere I can wear a dress to?”

“What else would you wear?”

“You’re joking, right?” I squint at him. “Pants and a shirt.”

Connak closes the door behind us. Then he grabs my hand and tugs me toward today’s lesson with an enthusiasm that I don’t understand. But it doesn’t take me long to share his excitement.

He leads me beyond the short stone wall around the village and into the denser parts of the forest.

The fragrance that surrounds us is so strange and surprising to my senses that I can’t pick out any one particular smell. It’s dew-covered grass, rain-drenched dirt, decomposing leaves, distant flowers… All wrapped in one scent that deserves a better description than earthy.

The trees are covered in moss and as large as the Redwoods I saw in California. The canopy is too thick for the sun to really shine this far down, so the ground is mostly dirt and fallen leaves. There are more bushes and small plant life than I expected, though.

I pull the end of my dress up as I walk with Connak. I don’t see a path to follow, but his confidence is unwavering as we wander farther away from the village. Somehow he manages to be chatty and vigilant, jovial and perspective, the opposite of me.

“What time is it?”

“Morning.” Okay. Maybe he’s too chipper right now.

“That feels like a sarcastic answer.”

“It was.” He grins at me. “I didn’t check the time when we left, but it’s early. I wanted to make sure we had enough daylight to enjoy the destination and get back before it was dark.”

I’ve gone ten whole days without caffeine of any kind, so I’m still lagging and tired, though his mood is slowly leeching into me until I feel dizzy with the unknown adventure.

I don’t know how long we’ve been in the forest before he sets a more relaxed pace. As I peer around us in awe, he nudges my shoulder, pointing up. Above us, a butterfly sits in a single ray of sunshine, drying its wings as it rests on a cocoon.

In front of us, a group of beetles crawls over a fallen tree. I spy the oddity in the bunch almost immediately. Spiran has absolutely figured out how to capture my attention.

“Do you see the bugs?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of hard to miss them.”

I roll my eyes but nod. “Do any of them look different to you?”

“You mean the ones that don’t quite look like the others?”

“Yes. You see them too?”

He observes me for a moment before he grins. “That’s the land, Ada. It can’t speak the same way we do, but that doesn’t mean that it can’t communicate with us.”

I don’t mention Isolde told me that’s how Spiran would visit me. Another small weight is lifted from my shoulders now that I know I’m not the only person outside of the queen who notices the two-dimensional insects.

The acknowledgment makes me feel less alone.

We don’t see any animals on the final leg of our trek, or I don’t. If Connak does, he doesn’t say a word about them. Maybe they’re freakish and petrifying? I might not be able to stomach the food if I come face-to-face with a three-headed rabbit.

Or a deer with fangs.

Or a chicken the size of a bear.

Before my imagination gets too carried away, I pop. “Are we there yet?”