Page 46 of Forged Flight

My jaw tightens as I look down at Micah.

He’s peaceful now, tucked safely against me, completely unaware of the storm brewing in my chest.

I don’t know what the king will do next. I don’t know how we’ll protect Maple or what will happen when the king discovers what we found on the mountain.

But I know one thing for certain—I’ll be damned if I let that bastard hurt either of them.

Micah stirs in my arms, his fingers tightening in the front of my shirt. He presses his cheek against my chest and gazes up at me with wide, honey-brown eyes.

“There’s a mushroom farm just outside Thistle Grove,” he says. “The owner is a very nice fae. Her unicorn was a former patient of mine. We should stop there and ask her about those blue mushrooms the dragons were eating.”

I nod. “That’s a good idea.”

Micah glances around us, then toward the trail below.

“You know, the snow is starting to melt. I think we’re far enough down the mountain now. You can probably put me down and let me walk.”

“Nope.” I shake my head and hold him tighter. “Let me carry you a little longer.”

Micah laughs, his chest rumbling against mine. “Alright,” he concedes. “Just a little longer, then.”

The Fairy Ring Farm sits on the outskirts of the village, a sprawling meadow enclosed by a white wooden fence and filled with neat rows of vibrant mushrooms.

The midday sun glimmers off the delicate wings of a fae as she flutters between the rows, watering can in hand. She wears denim overall shorts and a wide-brimmed sunhat, her pastel-pink hair divided into two long pigtail braids tied at the ends with purple ribbons. Freckles dust her pale skin like scattered flecks of pixie dust.

“Hey, Amanita!” Micah calls as we approach the fence.

She looks up, shading her eyes with one hand before squinting in our direction. “Dr. Wolfhart? Is that you?” She flutters closer, a dimpled grin spreading across her face. “What a lovely surprise!”

Micah smiles. “I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced. This is my…” He pauses, glancing at me and biting his lip. “Partner. Lucan.”

Partner.

Yeah, I like the sound of that.

Amanita reaches across the fence and shakes my hand, her fingernails painted a delicate blush pink. “It’s nice to meet you, Lucan.”

“Likewise.”

As she pulls her arm back, her brow furrows. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Actually, yes.” Micah clears his throat and points at a cluster of blue mushrooms nearby—the same ones we saw on the mountaintop. “Could you tell me about those?”

Amanita follows his gaze. Her expression shifts to confusion.

“Those?” She tilts her head. “What about them?”

“Do they grow wild?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I grow them for culinary use. They aren’t native to this region.”

Micah frowns. “They aren’t?”

“Nope. They’re called icecap mushrooms.” Amanita flutters down into the meadow and crouches beside the mushroom patch. “Cold-tolerant species from the Isle of Palmere. People around here will pay a small fortune for them.”

She plucks one from the soil and holds it up between her fingers.

“They have a very distinctive meaty flavor.” She smiles. “Some folks say they taste almost exactly like bacon.”