Chapter 31: Silverflower

"Do you have any way to help them?" Vaelira asked, watching Seraya's face.

Seraya didn't answer right away, her gaze still locked on the mushrooms scattered among the pot shards. The longer she inspected the scraps, the tighter her jaw clenched.

She picked up one of the larger pieces, turned it gingerly between her fingers, and only then faced the women gathered by the entrance.

"Who exactly picked the mushrooms for this soup?"

Eyes darted almost immediately toward Raska, who shifted under their weight as if the room had suddenly shrunk, though none of the women had taken so much as a step toward her.

"I did," she finally answered, trying to straighten her spine. "But the others gathered too."

"You picked them?" Seraya repeated, holding up the fragment. When Raska nodded, Seraya's voice hardened. "And did you actually know what you were taking, or did you just chuck anything with a cap into the pot?"

Raska flushed red, looking around at the gathered faces. Instead of answering, she seized upon the only excuse that didn't cast her as the villain of the whole disaster.

"Don't yell at me! How was I supposed to know this wasn't what you wanted? You left the pot behind, you refused to give me any soup, and now you pretend like..."

Fury surged through Seraya, and for a second she genuinely wanted to lunge at Raska, disparity in muscle be damned. But a single glance at Niva lying motionless was enough to check the impulse.

Instead, she hurled the mushroom piece at the accusing woman's feet and stepped forward, staring dead into her eyes.

"You stole my cookware, picked things you couldn't identify, and fed them to Niva," she ground out through clenched teeth. "And you have the gall to claim I made you do it?"

"How do you even know something's wrong with the mushrooms?"

"Because not every damn mushroom is edible, you idiot!"

Raska parted her lips, but no quick retort came this time. Vaelira stared down at the scattered remnants, visibly tense as she pieced the information together.

"You suspect they gathered something poisonous?"

Seraya knelt beside Niva again, brushing hair from the girl's cheek before answering the shaman.

"They ate from one pot and all fell sick, and there are mushrooms in there completely different from the ones I used. That's the first thing to suspect," she said, keeping her eyes on Niva. "I can't identify every boiled-down scrap, but looking similar doesn't mean something is safe to eat."

Angry murmurs broke out among the onlookers. Raska shrank back as one woman pointed to her ailing kinswoman, asking why she had even bothered cooking when she had no clue what she was tossing into the pot.

"First you steal, and then you blame the warrior?"

"We should've asked her from the start!"

"Look what you did to Niva..."

Raska darted a glance at the girl and looked away immediately; the sight of Niva's pale face stripped the strength from every prepared excuse. But instead of shaming her into silence, the mounting accusations triggered another frantic outburst.

"Shut up! She's only claiming it's the mushrooms! How can she be sure?!"

"One more word, Raska," Vaelira said, her voice so icy the woman froze instantly. The shaman turned back to Seraya. "Now tell me what we can do."

Seraya stayed silent for a moment, resting a hand on Niva's shoulder. Everyone was staring at her as if waiting for a single brilliant idea to make the girl and the others snap their eyes open.

Back at the hearth, she could afford a confident tone and a few cheeky remarks, but this wasn't an object she could simply mold again if she botched it.

Think... There has to be something.

She remembered the botany book from her stolen backpack, feeling a spike of frustration so sharp her fingers dug into her knee. Fragments of descriptions, diagrams, and plant names drifted through her memory, but none coalesced into an answer she trusted enough to pour down an unconscious Niva's throat.

"I have a lead," she said at last, looking up at Vaelira. "Though I won't pretend I know if it's enough."

One woman exhaled in obvious relief, while another watched her with fresh anxiety, as though the word "lead" sounded far too fragile against what was unfolding across the bedrolls.

"The warrior will figure something out..."

"The Grand Shaman tried too," another whispered. "How can we be sure that..."

"Enough," Vaelira cut in, refusing to let the exchange devolve into another argument. "What lead?"

"A plant," Seraya answered. "I remember flowers like it, but I won't guess whether they share the same properties here. I need to know if you know of anything you've used for poisonings."

Vaelira looked down at her unrolled pouch, scanning the dried stalks resting inside for a moment before frowning, recalling something missing from her stores.

"Silverflower," she said slowly. "The previous shaman used it when someone ate something harmful, though it didn't cure every poison."

Seraya looked up, and Vaelira began describing the pale, elongated blossoms growing on a climbing vine, their scent, and the way their petals shifted shade over time.

The description evoked a familiar image, but Seraya stopped herself from prematurely naming the plant; resemblance to something from her old world was no proof it was identical.

"Do you have any here?"

The shaman shook her head.

"None left."

Seraya looked at Niva once more, then stood up, smoothing down her pants that had stretched uncomfortably across her knees while kneeling.

"Then I'll go find it."

"Now?" Vaelira glanced toward the pitch-black entrance, hesitation flickering across her face as she looked back at the warrior. "You don't even know where..."

"I know I can't just sit here watching her lie like that," Seraya interrupted, pointing to Niva. She reined in her tone, adding more quietly: "Describe exactly what to look for. I'll bring the plant back, and you can confirm if it's the right one."

Vaelira studied her in tense silence for a heartbeat, then gave a firm nod, repeating the key details while one of Niva's mothers listened so intently she seemed to be memorizing every syllable.

"You will not go alone," the shaman stipulated. "The forest is too dangerous at night. Someone must know the paths and watch the surroundings."

"I will go with her."

The voice came from the entrance. Turning her head, Seraya saw a woman with wolf ears and a feline tail, standing slightly to the side with her fists clenched.

She was tall and visibly muscled, though leaner than Raska, the Crimson Mark on the right side of her face standing out sharper as she stepped closer to the light.

"Kaela?" Vaelira looked at her in surprise.

"My sister ate it too," the woman replied, glancing toward one of the sick. "I know the area. I'll help search."

Seraya nodded without hesitation, and right after Kaela, other women stepped forward - mostly kin of those lying limp or writhing in pain on the pelts.

The entrance grew crowded in an instant, yet no one questioned the venture anymore; doing anything at all felt infinitely better than waiting helplessly.

Raska watched the volunteers for a moment, then took a step forward herself.

"I'm coming too."

One of Niva's mothers glared at her, the fury in her eyes so raw that Raska stopped in her tracks.

"Haven't you done enough already?"

"Niva is lying there too," she answered in a low voice, looking down. "I want to help."

"It's because of you…"

"Enough," Seraya cut in, too frayed to listen to the same blame game again. "If she comes, she follows orders and doesn't touch a single plant on her own."

Raska nodded, and Vaelira ordered wooden spears brought and torches readied for the trail. When a spear was placed in Seraya's hands, the shaman caught her forearm, holding her back for a second.

"Be careful, and return the moment you find anything."

Seraya cast one last look at Niva, tightened her grip on the wooden shaft, and marched out with her escorts.

Beyond the valley, the crisp night air immediately reminded Seraya how late it was, and the pitch black between the trees looked far less inviting than from the quiet shore of her pond.

Not long ago she had hoped for a few hours of sleep; now she was marching with a wooden spear in hand, trying not to think about how many predators might be watching the torches carried by their group.

Kaela fell in beside her, glanced down the trail, and murmured:

"Warrior, do you remember where the shaman told us to look?"

"Along the lighter fringes of the forest, where vines can catch sunlight," Seraya replied, recalling the description. "She also mentioned drier ridges and sandy soil. Know anywhere like that nearby?"

Kaela stayed silent for a moment, staring ahead with a grim scowl, until her ears flicked and she slowed her pace.

"I know one place."

The way she said it made Seraya look at her closely.

"Where?"

"Near the swamps," Kaela answered, glancing back at the other women. "Where the Obsidian Maw worshiped their serpent."

One companion shook her head at once, while another tightened her grip on her spear, even before Seraya connected the words with a place she remembered all too well.

Of course... Out of all the damn corners in this forest, it had to be there.

The giant serpent flashed in her mind, the chaos after killing it, and the faces of women who had zero intention of brushing off the death of their totem as a minor misunderstanding. She remembered what followed just as vividly - especially what a captured outsider meant to the Obsidian Maw. The mere thought of venturing near them sent an uneasy chill prickling beneath her clothes.

"There are dry ridges along the border," Kaela explained into the silence. "I've seen climbing vines there, though I can't say if they're the right ones."

Seraya stared into the darkness, turning over alternatives in her mind. The Obsidian Maw wasn't a handful of grumbling foragers you could placate with a bowl of soup. They were a massive, ruthless tribe accustomed to taking whatever they wanted, and she had zero desire to find out how well they remembered her face from their last encounter.

"There is another place," Kaela added, clearly unenthusiastic about her first suggestion herself. "Further east, but the round trip would take at least two days."

"Then let's go there," Raska chimed in at once, glancing around hopefully for anyone to back the safer option.

Seraya turned her head toward her, then looked back toward Rimefall Valley, its entrance already swallowed by the trees.

"Niva and the others can't wait two days for us to get back."

Kaela sighed, sliding her palm along the shaft of her spear.

"Warrior, if they spot us..."

"Then we make damn sure they don't," Seraya answered. Fear tried to root her boots to the ground, but she forced her fingers to tighten around the wood. "We're going for a plant, not a war."

The other women still looked terrified, so Seraya lifted her chin, projecting a confidence she didn't feel in the slightest:

"I killed their totem, didn't I? I think I can cross a patch of woods without asking their permission."

Kaela studied her, then gave a slow nod, while a quiet murmur of approval rippled through the ranks. The memory of the slain serpent carried far more weight than reasoned arguments; one woman adjusted her grip and muttered that with the warrior they at least stood a fighting chance, and the rest gathered their resolve to move on.

Seraya didn't bother dispelling their inflated notions of her combat prowess; right now, she needed them moving forward above all else. She signaled Kaela to take the lead and followed her into the dark.

Before the trees completely cut off the valley behind them, she cast one last look over her shoulder, a painful knot twisting her chest at the thought of Niva lying motionless in Selka's cave.

Hold on... Just wait for me.