Page 257 of Interion

“What butterfly? Of course they don’t talk!”

“You were hallucinating! You were going on about butterflies and talking trees.” I ran my free hand through my hair. Much more of this madness and I’d tear it out. Just what I needed—an intoxicated ally.

“Me? No, I was just walking quietly behind you.” Adele seemed confused too, then spotted the bird in my hands. “Would you look at that! You caught something!”

I heard her stomach growl again. The haze had cleared from her eyes, but I was still worried. I wondered if it was just dehydration or if the water had caused her to hallucinate.

“I’m going to clean it away from our path so the entrails don’t attract predators. I need you to start the fire,” I said, watching how she looked and spoke. “Hand me one of your knives.”

“I’d rather keep looking for our last vial.”

I took the weapon she offered, relieved to have something sharp.

“No, we’re done looking for vials today. We’ll have to leave that for tomorrow morning—the sun is setting and eating is more important right now.”

“What if we don’t have time tomorrow morning?”

“We’ll have time. At dawn, we’ll be able to pinpoint their location and wake up early to get them. Besides, if we don’t deal with our water and food situation today, we won’t make it to the center tomorrow—we’re too slow and dehydrated.” I pointed to the horizon, where the sun had already begun its descent. “Start the fire. Nightfall is close.”

“I’m not good at starting fires.”

“And I can’t do both things at the same time.”

“I can try, but I can’t promise I’ll succeed.”

Adele shrugged, and something in the gesture told me she wasn’t going to put much effort into it. That made me stare at her.

“Just so you understand the situation: I can eat raw meat without any issues. Can you? Because with or without fire, I’m having dinner.”

She seemed to get the message. Then, her face scrunching into a grimace, she began searching for stones and dry branches. I moved as far away as possible without losing my way back and started cleaning the bird using a technique Joan had taught me: removing the skin along with the feathers without making much of a mess. The bird was large and heavy—enough to feed four people. But with how hungry we were, there might not be anything left over. As I finished removing the entrails, something caught my attention. I circled around an embankment to get a better look and almost cried with relief when I spotted some blue flowers on the branch of a low tree.

When I reached it, I grasped the flower. It was large and closed tight, shaped like a teardrop with the opening narrower than the base. It was about the size of my cupped hands, and inside was a red sphere of water. It had veins too, making it look like a placenta. I pulled out the knife, cut the four rigid flowers from their stems, and balancing the bird and flowers in my hands, headed back to Adele. When I arrived, I found a small fire flickering to life.

“Well, look at that—even I couldn’t have gotten a fire going that fast. I think hunger agrees with you, Adele,” I joked as I set the flowers on the ground and approached with the bird.

“I think you’re a closet poet, Kyller. You should try it more often.”

We sat around the fire. I cut the bird into four parts and skewered them on dry branches. I found two thicker branches to use as side supports and wedged them at the edge of the fire. Finally, I placed the meat skewers over the flames and went to get the flowers.

“I found a source of clean water,” I announced.

Adele stared at me, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Why didn’t you call me before?” The Yonserian stood up.

“Sit down. The water is here.” Smiling, I held out two flowers to her. “It’s a species that stores water inside.”

When Adele saw what was inside the flower, her nose wrinkled in disgust. Such a predictable gesture…

“Are you sure about this? It’s disgusting.” She poked at the placenta inside.

“Absolutely sure. The water is pure.”

I stuck my hand inside the flower and pinched the placenta, rupturing it. The liquid filled its petals, and I raised it to my lips. It tasted sweet and a bit slimy, but it was still water. Adele tipped the flower to her mouth, taking large gulps and making a face like she’d just sucked on a lemon. Then she breathed through her mouth, eyes squeezed shut.

“It’s disgusting. Gods, this is so disgusting!” Despite her revulsion, nothing stopped her from grabbing the other flower and drinking every last drop.

“It’s disgusting, yeah, but it’s all we’ve got.”