His jaw tightened slightly. “If it weren’t so essential to medical care, the King would have had more than enough reason to do exactly that. The fields are usually protected and regulated, so accidents like that no longer happen.”
“Then why does it grow here?” I asked.
“In the Labyrinth.” Aster exhaled slowly once we were clear of the patch of it growing in the cracks of the stone.
“It’s a type of fungus. It thrives in damp places. There are different strains, and this one is particularly potent. It feeds on moisture in the air, and it doesn’t need sunlight.”
I glanced around the narrow corridor, the walls gleaming like wet stone, the air heavy and thick.
“So, just one more way this place wants us dead,” I muttered.
“Yes,” he agreed flatly.
“I won’t lie,” I said, stepping carefully around the next glowing cluster, “I don’t particularly fancy falling asleep down here.”
“No,” Aster replied, “especially not when the Labyrinth would be able to feed on your dreams.” Jesus, it just kept getting worse!
“Or my nightmares.” I grimaced.
“It would,” he said in a dire tone, before continuing with his harrowing warning. “A person is most vulnerable whenthey sleep. You don’t choose your nightmares, but your mind manifests them anyway.”
“Well, I can safely say that I will most definitely be staying very far away from the glowing death flowers.”
“As you should,” he said.
I stopped walking after we had seemed to have passed the last of it, now that I was safe to do so.
“Although… it does make me curious.”
His head tilted, causing his horns to cast long shadows along the floor and up the wall.
“What does?”
“Whether it would affect me the same way,” I said. “I mean, I’m human. Different genetic makeup.”
His expression looked thoughtful before it sharpened with understanding. “Maybe, some of those plants were engineered.”
“Engineered?” I repeated. “You mean… created?”
“Reinforced,” he corrected. “Made more potent. Different strains were developed. Some mixed with others to render patients unconscious for longer procedures.” He looked at me pointedly. “But all of that was designed for our kind.”
I snorted softly. “So what you’re saying is that if I accidentally inhaled it, it would be like giving a horse tranquilizer to a cat.”
“And then bye-bye, kitty,” he said without hesitation.
“Right,” I said. “So it could potentially kill me.”
“Yes,” he replied. “Which is why we must be careful. There are things in my world that are far more dangerous to you than they would ever be to one of my own kind. And there may be things that may affect you but not me.”
“Sucks to be me then, I guess,” I muttered dryly before spinning it a different way, offering a different perspective.
“Or there are some things that wouldn’t affect me at all but may kill you guys.” His look of confusion made me shrug my shoulders and argue, “What? You said it yourself. Differentstrains and all. So just because it knocks you on your ass doesn’t mean it’ll do the same to me.”
He huffed quietly. “Either way, I have no desire to test the theory.”
“Good,” I said quickly. “Because neither do I.”
“Then we are in agreement,” he replied as if he were stating a law more than a suggestion. A very logical and wise suggestion at that, and not one I was ever going to disagree with.
