Page 148 of Shroom for Improvement

“Stealing my things.” Itsked, and wagged my finger at him. “I must be rubbing off on you.”

We moved to his couch, because the bed felt too dangerous. Either we’d end up fucking, or sleeping, and we could afford neither of those situations right now.

“There’s four hours until sunrise. Do you want to nap? I’ll stay awake and make sure you’re up in time for the ritual,” I said.

“No, let’s keep each other awake.”

I poured myself a triple-shot black coffee and Claude a ready-mix chai latte in my little kitchenette, and returned to his room. He was staring at the grandfather clock, but when he spotted me walking in, he sat on the sofa and patted the space next to him. I made myself comfortable, leaning back, legs up, slotting under Claude’s arm.

Claude cradled his tea in one hand, the other draped over my chest. He buried his nose and mouth in my hair and breathed in deeply. “Tell me what happened when you left this morning.”

This morning. Gods, had it really only been this morning? It felt like an absolute lifetime ago.

I took a deep breath and told Claude everything that had happened from the moment the taxi pulled away from the Stinkhorn gates and I’d changed my mind. The almost crash.The kidnapping. The millennia of car games. The petrol-station toilet. The compass. Driving.

And Claude told me all about the estate agent and the councillor. John and Mrs Ziegler. Oggy passing out. The Earth Bells, and finding me.

The enormous clock bonged twice. There were just over two hours until sunrise.

“Tell me why mushrooms, and shroom fae. What started your fascination with them?” Claude said, his fingers twisting gently in my hair.

“My fascination with”—I tilted my head up, so I was looking into his beautiful brown upside-down eyes—“mushrooms began when I was a boy, age one hundred maybe. I became obsessed with fae in general and learning about all the different types of glamours. And how, for most of us, our glamour is essentially harnessed through nature. You can already see where this is going, right?”

“I can.” He closed his eyes. I was a little worried he’d fall asleep. This was how so many evenings had gone previously—Claude drifting off as I chatted about nothing and everything. A warm ache spread throughout my chest knowing my voice brought him so much comfort.

“Anyway, one year, when I was just going through puberty, there was a huge village Harvest fayre. It was the biggest festival, and fae used to come from all over the district. There was a man there, a newcomer. He had brown skin, and copper-coloured hair, and these beautiful silver freckles that sort of glittered in the sunlight.”

“Beautiful freckles?”

“So beautiful.” I smiled to myself, knowing Claude wouldn’t see it. “Nowadays, I’d recognise him as a shroom fae, but at the time, I had no idea what type he was. And although hejoined in with the dancing and the pie eating and the traditional Harvest fayre kisses, I noticed he never really spoke to anyone.

“Being like, only a hundred years old, I didn’t know any better, didn’t understand other fae cultures. So I approached him and he took me into the marquee and we drank this strange, spiced mead. I wasn’t even old enough to drink. I guess things were different back then. He told me he was a shroom fae, and I asked every single question I could think of about your kind and your glamour. The guy answered about ten percent of my questions.

“He just kept saying things like,‘I’d love to tell you, but I can’t,’and ‘Even I don’t know how that works.’I told him I thought if all the different types of fae worked together and harnessed our unique glamours, we could save the Eight and a Half Kingdoms. Drought, flooding, famine, the burning of fossil fuels, climate change—we could end it all. I was convinced of that.”

I laughed. It was ridiculous. I’d been so foolish and naive. “I’m still convinced of it.”

“You’re amazing,” he said. The fingers on his left hand eased down the neckline of my hoodie to rest on my bare chest. It wasn’t quite where my heart was, but I got a feeling that was the area Claude was aiming for.

“Humans too,” I added. “And orcs and warlocks and merfolk and all the other species, but I think due to the sheer number of fae and humans versus everyone else, it’s largely up to us. Though everyone should play their part.”

“But what can humans do? They don’t have any glamour.”

“They do. It’s just not as obvious as a fae’s. Do you remember all the ways I told you we can improve our soil without magic? Well, not completely without magic, because magic exists in every living thing, but without fae magic?”

“Pee-bales and worms and compost tea and diversifying microorganisms or something, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I choked out. He really had been listening to me during all those talks.

“So, you think we could save an entire planet by changing the soil?”

I sighed, and tried not to ruminate on every other way the Eight and a Half Kingdoms was fucked. “No, but yes. I think it’s a great place to start.”

“Then I’ll help you start it there.”

The clock bonged again—three times—sending a spear of adrenaline to my stomach, and jolting Claude’s arm against my chest.

“It’s time we started to get ready.”

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