Page 63 of Brambles and Bellflowers
“Sure…” I replied, watching him through lidded eyes as I sipped my coffee.
I was sofocused on keeping up with Titus’s long strides that I smacked straight into him when he stopped. Maybe he’d said something, but I’d been watching the ground instead of paying attention.
“Ow.” I rubbed my nose.
“Sorry, princess,” he said, expression sheepish. “Didn’t know you were that close.”
“Where else would I be?” After all, he was the one who told me to stay near. Julian had walked behind me as Damen brought up the rear. However, I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he was in danger from swinging branches this morning.
Damen paused to study the forest canopy while Julian reached into his bag.
“Drink,” Julian said, pressing a metal water bottle into my hands.
I accepted it but kept my eyes on Titus. “Why did we stop? How are you tracking him?”
He might have picked up a scent. Miles had been out here a while, after all.
“We’ve been following those.” Titus pointed to a tree a few feet away.
The trees? But we were in the middle of a forest—there were so many of them.
I squinted at the tree. Nothing seemed off until I looked at the base.
“Mushrooms?” I frowned. The nasty little fungus had spread from the base of the tree to about a half a foot up. How dare they ruin a perfectly fine sapling. “Is the tree dying?”
“No, the tree is fine,” Titus said with a smile, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “For now. But it could eventually rot if left untreated. Such a waste.”
What was wrong with him?
“Why does that make you happy?” I asked, puzzled by his grin as Damen and Julian paused their conversation, sensing something I hadn’t caught onto yet. “How did this tree become diseased?”
“Don’t worry.” Damen stepped closer and swung his arm over my shoulders. “Miles leaves these behind to find his way back. He’s directionally challenged.”
“Excuse me?” My confusion deepened. Why couldn’t the man invest in a GPS, or, if it had to be something rudimentary, tie strings in branches to mark his trail?
“It’s not harming anything,” Julian interjected, rolling his eyes at the other two. He pulled me away from Damen and guided me closer to the mushrooms. “See the unusual orange color? They’re not natural. The mushrooms will eventually go away and the tree will be fine.”
Damen chuckled. “You should know that no mushroom looks like that. You know all about plants.”
“Mushrooms aren’t plants.” I frowned at him. No one under my watch would be allowed to continue with that particular misconception. “How is he doing it?”
“Witches are Earth,” Julian explained. “Miles’s magic is heavily based in grounding and spoil.”
I put my crooked finger to my lips and nodded. The documentaries had covered some of the basics: graveyard dirt, mud baths, and buried jars… but they hadn’t mentioned this.
“Miles also uses plants in his magic,” Julian continued. “Because they come from the earth.”
“Thesemagic mushrooms,” I pressed, “appear because?”
“Miles leaves a trace of his essence when he’s traveling, so he doesn’t get lost,” Julian began, but his explanation faded into uncertainty. He shrugged, catching my look. “It’s complicated.”
“He’s walking fertilizer.” Titus smirked.
Damen snickered.
“So,” I continued, ignoring their jokes, “he controls the soil’s health, and his presence helps fungi thrive.”
But at what cost? I pressed my lips together as I looked at my tree. “There has to be other things that witches can do,” Imuttered, more to myself than the others. “What about the Cole family? That wasn’t very nature-y.”
