“Oh. Nothing.”
“Come, Mr. Green. Look here. These patches of grass. Can you see the shapes? But why would the grass die from such brief contact with a body?”
Valentina was a smoky lump crouched near the crime scene tape. Green swallowed and took a knee beside her.
“Here, beside this chair, then over next to the fire ring. Can you see the discoloration?”
It was subtle, but he could see it.
The grass was the wrong color. Not dead. Not yet. But on its way. A pale yellow was overtaking the green.
He made an unintentional sound in his throat when he noticed the shapes. The patch in front of them was the silhouette of a body on its side. Green stood and looked at the other patches. They were less clear, but still unmistakably human. A yellowing shadow of an outstretched arm. The clear crook of an elbow. The L of a foot outlined in wilting grass.
“They look like…fingerprints of death.”
Valentina was silent for a moment. He couldn’t see her, but he again felt the weight of her attention. She was considering him.
“This was too much. A string of too much. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
Green thought about disagreeing, but he was bone-tired. Spiritually tired. He wanted to be done. He didn’t even have the clarity to articulate what that meant.
“Rest your mind. It needs a break. Your only task is to stay near me. Focus on that.”
Green touched the acorn in his pocket, one more persistent unknown.
Valentina retrieved two mason jars from a side compartment on the pack and unscrewed the lids.
“Here. Drink this. It will help you metabolize the cricket venom faster.”
Green took the jar.
“Thanks. Is this made of something tragic? Widow’s tears?”
“It’s water and honey. You’ll find honey has myriad uses in our work.”
Green closed his eyes so he could drink without seeing his fever-dream hand holding the jar. It was cool, simple, and sweet. He downed the whole jar without pausing. He stood with his eyes closed, returning to the healing power of his breath.
Valentina took the jar from his hand. He heard her futzing with the backpack and moving around nearby, but he resolved to stay in his calming darkness until she asked him to follow.
“Just a moment. I need to rule out a few more possibilities before we depart.”
He could hear her pacing back and forth.
She spoke to herself in a soft monotone while she worked.
“No visible tracks. No scorching. No obvious soil disturbance. No mucus trail. No musk or marking. Sky is intact. Turning left still possible. Turning right still possible. No carrion kings. No number repetition. Taking samples of live and dead grasses.”
Green didn’t open his eyes to see if she was speaking into a recorder. He didn’t ask follow-up questions. Valentina was absolutely correct. He was done putting a brave face on it. It had been too much.
The fact that half of what she spoke to herself hinted at lifetimes more to learn might have been exciting at other times, but at that moment it just felt like sinking chest-deep in a sulphureous swamp.
The growl came without warning.
It was deep as caves beneath the ocean and undeniable as gravity.
Green’s eyes snapped open.
Valentina was already more visible. She lay on her stomach in the grass with her ear pressed to the ground.
