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“You think I’m wrong?” He huffs. “What else is new?”

“You’re not like before. You broke your curses. The strength it took to do that is still inside you.”

Making coffee, splitting wood, whatever the stars Kel is going off to do…none of it is nothing. It’s something.

I can work with something.

Reaching into the drawer beside the bedside table, I pull out an envelope of cash. Rosalina had a small stash, and when we first arrived, I’d gone out in George’s old clothes, covering my ears with a hat, and bought groceries.

“We’re almost out of food. I’ll have to go into town today,” I say.

Both Farron and Dayton are silent. I’ve been trying to be delicate these last few weeks, but it’s time they get a little push.

“Food in the human realm is expensive,” I say. “I saw a mushroom growing at the base of the tree just beyond the cabin. Maybe we could cook it? It was greenish yellow with a domed cap and⁠—”

“That’s poisonous. I spent an entire summer studying human realm fungi to cross-reference similarities with species that grow in the Enchanted Vale.” Farron stares at me aghast. “You’ll kill us, or at least Anya in her delicate human body. No, we can’t eat that.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to ration,” I say, leaning against the back of the sofa.

Silence. But I cast a sidelong glance at Farron, chewing his bottom lip like he’s thinking.

“Though,” he says, “there are many edible species of mushrooms in the Pacific Northwest. Some with great health benefits. I saw some chanterelles in Briarwood Forest when we were coming in.”

“Those would help Rosalina’s strength a little,” I say.

Farron runs a hand through his hair. “I suppose I could see if I can find some today.”

Dayton looks up. “Justus taught me this stew when I was a kid. Fennel and wild turnip root. Would they have that at the shop, Cas?”

“I don’t know what those are. Not much grows in the Below.” I grin at him. “Guess you’ll have to tag along and use those strong muscles to help me carry everything back. Get dressed, Sunshine.”

As we prepare for our outing, I notice a light peeking out underneath Rosalina’s door. I rap my knuckles on the wood.

“Can I come in?”

There’s a half-mumbled reply.

Rosalina O’Connell is still in her bed, face pale and eyes distant. She drained herself trying to save Castletree, and although the fall of that magical place broke the princes’ and the Vale’s connection to magic, I’m unsure if she still feels a seed of her own power. Where does her magic come from? Her blood? The long-forgotten Above? Whatever the case, it is not a physical ailment that holds her to her bed and shadows. It’s a state I know well. One I was in for twenty-five years after the War of Thorns.

I kneel beside the bed and brush the hair from her face. “Dayton and I are going to the store. Is there anything you’d like?”

No reply.

“What about some of that soup, the stuff that comes in the bag? You almost ate a whole bowl yesterday,” I say. “Or the ice cream that has that funny dancing cow on the carton. I found that quite delicious. Or⁠—”

“Cas,” she says, voice hoarse. “Please don’t ask me to decide. Don’t ask me to decide anything.”

“Rosalina.”

Tears prick her eyes, and she throws a hand over her brow. “I can’t. Every decision I’ve ever made has been the wrong one.”

“That’s not true.”

“Everything I’ve ever tried to make has broken. Everything I’ve tried to grow has died. Don’t ask me, Cas. Please.”

I swallow, my throat tight. I want to tell her she’s being a fool. I want to grab her shoulders and shake her and tell her to stop lying here and stand and eat. But I’ve been in the fog she’s trapped behind, a place no words of reason or encouragement or love will break into.

So I press a kiss to her temple instead and pull the blankets over her shoulder. “Ez will bring you breakfast soon.”