Page 26 of Among the Screaming Trees

“Absolutely not.” My heart slows. No…

“They’re all similar in height and build…”

“Tyler is way shorter than the other three,” I protest, feeling suddenly ill.

“He could have worn lifts in his boots. And you said it yourself; the height was the one thing you had trouble pinning down. Or was that because you were pinned down?”

“You’re making me want to wash the ick off me.”

“Relax,” she laughs. “I’m not saying it was them, just that they do almost everything as a group of four, and you were hunted by four Larchers. Look at their hands when you see them on Monday, and we’ll see if we can uncover any distinguishing marks that might be a reason for gloves.”

“No one had bad breath or BO. I’m telling you, it wasn’t them.”

“I’m praying so on your behalf, honey. I wouldn’t want those putrid fuckers anywhere near me, let alone part of them inside me. That’s a fucking deal breaker right there.”

“The cigarette,” I add, recalling the final Larcher. “He lit it with this old-fashioned lighter. Like a flint spark one. Not those cheap store plastic ones.”

“Oh, that’s good. Write it down. And the cigarette itself? Pure tobacco or a mix of dope too? Ganja?”

The smoke has a subtle, sweet smell, not pungent. If it was laced, it was a mild mix. I can’t see a primal hunt in darkened woods going well for a stoner. And the silence? There would be telltale giggles or questions whisper-hissed. “Nothing obvious.”

“Alright. Write it down, and the lighter and cigarette was Larcher number four, right?”

“Right.” My fourth and final Larcher. The silent watcher, the serial smoker. He only came to me right before the end, ensuring the others were done, and I wasn’t left wanting. This Larcher had manners and a selfless side. The type of person I hope I’m friends with in real life, because he isn’t a shot-sculling, lecherous pretty boy thinking college is his right to get fucked up and run amok. No, with this one, I sensed a gentle soul. In his kiss, he whispered a promise. And my promise to him is that I’m going to identify you, and kiss you back properly, the way you deserve. A kiss we can both get lost in, because I felt you promise me that, too.

Professor Donnelyn beams at the class from her position in front of the board, dressed in a deep green, textured pencil skirt and cream blouse with delicate vines embroidered on the cuffs and neckline. She wears minimal makeup, just a hint of color dusted over the apples of her cheeks and a slick of gloss on lips pulled into a smile as tight as her chignon.

“As much as I’d love to be bored silly with your post-Larch discussions and theories, this toxicology won’t teach itself. So”—she gestures to the precise, cursive writing on the board, all in perfect rows—“less Larch, and more poison. Please.”

Merda sits higher in her seat, next to Finley and his posse. Was it the mention of poison that called her like a sailor to a siren, or the swift topic adjustment off the Larch? She’s been moping around like her life had been upended, not even Poppi could cajole her mouth into anything other than a fierce, slashed line. No smile, no joy, nothing.

“Toxic and poisonous are different. Explain how so.” Amber surveys the room. “Poppi.”

This is the first hint of a smile from Merda. Not because she’s grateful that Professor Donnelyn didn’t call on her, but she knows Poppi loves this class like a starving dog craving scraps of discarded food. I’m interested in all that Botanical Science encompasses, only homing in on botanical involvement with drugs for disease cures and maintenance, not death. Poppi swings her long hair and squares her shoulders like an opera soloist on stage at Madison Square Garden. The lights dim and the conductor summons the strings before winding in the brass section.

“Poisonous and toxic botanicals are often confused by some who don’t know any better. A poisonous variety does damage when consumed, while something toxic can cause harm by ingestion, yes, but also by inhalation or contact, such as skin irritants.”

“Very good,” Donnelyn confirms, and Poppi glows. “Can something be both poisonous and toxic?”

Allowing no one else time to answer, Poppi continues in her irritating voice. “Yes, Professor. Take Oleander as an example. Every part contains glycosides. If eaten, the consumer faces heart failure. The sap, leaves, and flowers are also known skin irritants. English yew is another example of a plant with a dual threat. Quite fascinating.”

She says those last three words with serial-killer enthusiasm. It’s the type of tone to put her on an FBI watch list. Donnelyn smiles at her, thrilled Poppi is so enamored by the darker side of plant compounds, and Tali mimes a gagging action. I know she’s not fond of Poppi’s OTT personality, but her reaction reeks more about the praise from Donnelyn, rather than Poppi’s knowledge. Is she… jealous?

“This kind of knowledge fills a professor’s heart,” Donnelyn says, and Tali rolls her eyes with so much force, she can almost see the row behind us. On the screen, there are case studies about deadly nightshade poisonings and a case from Australia where a woman hid dehydrated remnants of death cap mushrooms in beef wellington before serving the meal to her in-laws. Death caps (Amanita phalloides)are some of the most poisonous fungi on earth and account for around ninety percent of all mushroom deaths worldwide. Eating half a mushroom contains enough anatoxin to kill a robust adult, and this meal was served to her elderly in-laws. You cannot destroy death cap toxins by boiling, frying, or drying. In fact, dehydrating removes the water weight, concentrating the toxin, and once ground to a powder, lethal doses can fit on a portion of a teaspoon.

“As you can see,” the professor continues, “by dehydrating and grinding the death caps, she could create quite the threat. Had it not been for some quick-thinking physicians and security camera footage of her disposing of a dehydrator the next day, she may not have been convicted.”

“So, what you’re saying, Professor, is if you want to kill someone, you need to do a better job of destroying the evidence?” Finley asks, and the class giggles. Well, most of the class except for Tali, myself, and Fox Muir sitting in the row behind ours. He’s still making notes in his book, alongside some botanical drawings nearer the margins. Elegant fingers grip the pen like a warrior would a sword. He sweeps across the page with quick flicks and extended glides, pausing only to look up and catch me staring at him. He smiles before I can look away, my cheeks reddening at the embarrassment at being caught out.

After the situation with Finley, it was decided they could continue this class, provided they stay well away from each other. Professor Donnelyn was instructed to ensure they sat as far apart as possible and not be paired up or in the same group for any assignments or activities. Finley was vociferous with his glee, saying he wanted nothing to do with the mute orphan freak. Fox simply nodded, accepting the rebuke for the thrown punch and remaining silent, as always. When I had attempted to intervene on Fox’s behalf, Wyldan wouldn’t allow it. “Students can’t go around punching other students, Aspen. Regardless of what was said about that student, he resorted to violence, and that is never acceptable as a first option.” When I’d pushed, he dismissed me entirely, going back to his course notes and telling me to close the door behind me on the way out. A stark contrast to the only other time I’d dare breach the boundary of his personal space, and that time, he summoned me like a dog, and I’d answered his whistle. Then he’d turned to his bookwork, and I was dismissed. Asshole.

“Your first assignment: Toxin classes. Evaluating natural chemical compounds, mechanisms of action, and risk characterization. This paper needs to be a minimum of ten thousand words and must include secondary metabolites and chronicle any adverse health effects on humans and animals. For animals, I’d suggest you include at least two species; bonus points for diversity and further findings. You have three weeks to complete this task. If you do not submit your paper by the due date, every day after sees your mark reduced by ten percent.”

The class groans their audible displeasure. Everyone except for Fox, who continues to write notes and draw in his journal.

Donnelyn interlaces her fingers in front of her. “I look forward to your findings, Poppi, and you too, Tali. This assignment is right up your alley. Oh, and Aspen, please see me privately if you don’t understand the scope of the assignment. Class dismissed.”

What? I understand all of it. What is with professors at this college singleing me out? Unless I can work this to my advantage and see if she’s familiar with any of the research Dad was doing before he vanished? Without showing her the findings and field notes, perhaps I will see her. Ask her to clarify some aspects I’m already familiar with, only to pivot when she least expects it. “Thank you, Professor. I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”