“Is…is it a Chantrelle?” asked Hoxley. “The one with a peppery taste?”

  “You remembered!” He exclaimed with joy. “Yes! Nutritious and it has a somewhat peppery taste.”

  “How about this one?” he asked. No one knew. “Amanita Muscaria! It can be poisonous but not if you boil them before you eat them.”

  “Isn’t he smart?” Siouxsie asked her towering brother.

  “Quite educated.” He agreed. “Such knowledge has value. We should help to make sure it reaches all of witchkind.”

  “Agreed.” Said Robert in a rare moment of positivity. Everyone enjoyed themselves in the moment of peace. But amongst them, Morell’s face took a concerned expression.

  “What’s the matter?” asked the prince. “I think you’re doing a great job.”

  “I have a worry…” the boy said. “No, not a worry, a thought.”

  “Oh? asked Ignatius “What is the thought that furrows your brow?”

  “I worry that these people of the kingdom were laid low by magic and while we’re feeding them, we’re not curing them.” Said Morell

  “Cure?” asked Siouxsie. “How would we know to cure them of their strange ails? None of us have seen anything like this before.”

  “Go ahead.” Hoxley encouraged him. “Speak your mind if you have something to say.”

  “What I was thinking…” the boy said as he walked over to his pack lying on the counter and producing some strange mushrooms that the others hadn’t seen. “Is that I think we should add some of these Hericium Erinaceus fungi to the pot.”

  “What would that accomplish?” asked Hoxley.

  “I’ve been studying Hericium Erinaceus for close to three summers now and I find that its properties improve one’s greater mental state.”

  “How can you know that?” asked Robert

  “Because…” the boy said sheepishly. “I used to slip them into my grandfather’s food as an experiment.” Each of the companions grew silent and wide eyed.

  “You experimented on your own grandfather?” asked Hoxley with some surprise. “Without him knowing?”

  “You haven’t been slipping us any of that stuff, have you?” asked Siouxsie

  “No, no, I would never.” He tried to smile. The group did not look reassured. “But as for my grandfather, I found his mental sharpness to return to him whenever he ate the special food I prepared for him. He was very old and I wanted to help him however I could and after experimenting with small doses on myself…”

  “AND you experimented on yourself?” interrupted the prince.

  “Yes, and it worked just fine. I wouldn’t have given it to my grandfather if I wasn’t confident in its potency and uses. Now if you’ll all please listen; the people have been stricken dumb by the magic of Lord Batlus’ lich. So far all we’ve given them is water and they won’t survive long on that. If we give them food, they’ll continue to linger but I fear they may not get any better. It is my intention to add the Hericium Erinaceus to their food in hopes that the properties of the spore will somehow awaken them from their dazed state.”

  “That’s a very bold assumption, Morell.” Said Ignatius. “Such an action could make the situation worse or result in the deaths of a large number of the populace if your assumption is incorrect.”

  “I just want to help.” He said, looking at his shoes. “That’s all I want. Nothing more.” The others exchanged glances amongst themselves. The conversation seemed to be at a standstill until Hoxley spoke.

  “The proposal is as potentially deadly as it is bold.” She offered. “But I think we can agree that we are in a dire circumstance. I have no knowledge of such things, but I do trust in Morell’s passion and knowledge of spores and fungi. We haven’t the time to stand around feeding a court and kingdom of invalids. We must take action and pursue options where we find them and there seem to be none other than what Morell has offered. If I cannot place my trust in Morell at a time like this, when can I? Almost every word from his mouth along our travels has been of his knowledge of the very thing he suggests. Who better to make a recommendation? Horns to hooves I think his plan has merit.” She said “If anyone has a better solution, I’d happily hear it. But we have to be cautious. This is in no way a small matter. If something should happen to the people or the royal members of the kingdom, then each of us will be responsible for the damage. No one can be forced to be part of this, it has to be voluntary. If anyone objects or has something to say in opposition then now is the time. There’s no shame here if you have doubt.” The room became as silent as a tomb as everyone seemed to be at a loss for words. No one knew better than Morell. “Then it’s settled.” She said with a smile as she patted him on the shoulder. We’ll add the mushroom to the broth in hopes that the ingredient can aid these people. Morell? How can we best help?”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “The extra mushroom needs to be diced just as fine as the rest. Other than that, I believe the fungi will do the healing work on its own.”

  “Then let’s get to it.” said Ignatius. “We have a kingdom to feed.”

  “But how will we feed them all?” asked the prince. “Skins and bladders of water are one thing but to feed such a number of people?”

  “I will help.” Offered the shadow girl’s voice from his pockets. “If there’s a matter of hefting large amounts of soup then I can manage to bear the weight.”

  “Any help you could stand to give would be greatly appreciated. Said Hoxley. And so it went for several hours that the party of companions kept the royal kitchen and its bubbling cauldrons fired. Hoxley and Ignatius worked together to gather more wood for the fires. She even allowed the witch to hitch her up to a horse drawn cart to carry larger and larger loads. It wasn’t easy, for the sheer amount of wood needed to continually feed all the kitchen fires was enormous. Time and again the whole day through they shouldered bundles of sticks and logs. As Morell, the prince, and Siouxsie added the ingredients, Robert used his arcane fire summoning to keep all the cauldrons and pots at a frothy boil. For their toil, the whole palace became filled with a rich aroma. A hearty smell of well-cooked mushrooms watered the mouths who worked to make the batches. Chef Morell orchestrated the whole affair, adding spice and straining contents to keep the broth lean. When enough wood was gathered, the party spread out to find containers to hold the sea of broth. As sundown approached, everyone gathered in the kitchen and helped themselves to the remaining bowls of steaming chunks and savory broth. Second and third helpings were eagerly accepted.

  “This is delicious.” The prince slurped. “I’ve never had such a…a…succulent soup of mushrooms.”

  “It is very good.” The twins said in unison before lifting the bowls to their faces once more. But as much as everyone enjoyed the meal, Ignatius sat alone outside upon an unfurled large tablecloth to make himself a small picnic before he resumed his work. The respite was nice, reclining in the shadow of a palace and allowing the western winds to tussle his hair and cloak as he ate. Once finished, he lay back upon the cloth to rest. Their work of feeding a kingdom would last late into the night and early morning for sure. He thought of Hoxley and almost as if his thoughts of her were capable of summoning the faun girl, the sound of clopping hooves made their way closer. When he removed his sizeable hat from his face, he found her standing over him with a royal chalice in each hand.

  “What do you have there?” he asked.

  “A bit of wine from the king’s stores.”

  “Wine, Hoxley?” he asked with a bit of surprise “I’ve never known you to partake of strong drink.”

  “A taste is fine once in a while.” She smiled, offering him one of the glasses which he gratefully accepted. “It’s half a cup since we still have much work to do. Moderation in all things, yes? After all, once one has earned a reputation for drunkenness, it can be a difficult to get rid of.”

  “Agreed.” He said, taking a light sniff of the cup. Seeing that they were alone, Hoxley jammed the butt of her spear into the soil for it to stand on its own before kneeling down all four legs next to him. Each one exchanged a glance at one another’s cup before the others eyes and back. “Good wine and company shouldn’t go without a toast.” he said. “What shall we toast to?” The question caught her off guard and she found herself without a word to say. Sensing her shyness, he made a suggestion: “To the winds of fate.” He said, raising his cup a little higher. “May they carry our brooms wherever they are destined to fly…or walk.” His words urged a bit of a smile from her.