who had difficulty breathing and was always carrying camphor of peppermint about to clear his lungs. But this didn’t feel like he couldn’t get air. This felt like he did when he sprinted a great distance, except he hadn’t sprinted, hadn’t felt any awful exertion.
Talen fetched one of the last ginger cookies. “Taste this.”
“I don’t want your nasties.”
“Taste it. I think our baker put come-backs in here.”
Nettle took the cookie, broke it, and examined the pieces. “If anything’s in here, then the baker must have ground it into powder.” He took a nibble and grimaced. “There could be horse plop in here and it wouldn’t taste any worse.” He handed the cookie bits back to Talen.
“What do you think he put in here?”
“I don’t know,” said Nettle. He looked up at the tree Talen had jumped into. “That’s quite a jump you made.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want to try something. Take the reins. Swing the wagon around and approach the spot like we did before.”
“Don’t we need to get out of here?”
“Just do it,” said Nettle.
Talen took the reins, turned the wagon around, and approached the tree as they had before. Nettle stood on the wagon seat as Talen had when he’d jumped. They rolled under the tree. Despite his injured ear Nettle leaped, tried for the branch, and grabbed nothing but air. He landed with a grunt and rolled.
He stood and put a hand back to his ear. Leaves were clinging to his back. “How close did I come?”
He hadn’t come close at all. “Two, maybe three feet away. You’re about as lively as a pile of lead.”
“I don’t think it’s lead.”
“Inferior breeding then. What are you trying to prove?”
Nettle looked at him, as sober as stone. “Are you sure that girl didn’t do something to you?”
Of course he was sure. “This odd exhilaration didn’t start until we left the city gates. I’m telling you: it’s come-backs. I’ll bet your smelly little linens on it.”
“Maybe,” said Nettle. “But what herb changes a man that much?”
“Maybe I’ve got stag legs,” said Talen.
“You’ve got the legs of a scarecrow,” said Nettle.
“Then you’re a piss-poor jumper,” said Talen. “Try it again.”
“I saw you up there, clinging like a bug. It wasn’t natural.”
“Try it again,” Talen said. He didn’t want to hear this. Lords, if this was Sleth work—but it couldn’t be. It wasn’t.
Nettle shook his head but he got back up on the wagon. Talen wheeled around, and they tried it again.
“Concentrate,” said Talen.
Nettle crouched. He breathed deeply. But he didn’t come close to anything except spraining his ankle.
When Nettle was back in the wagon, Talen shook his head and made a small sound like he had empathy for Nettle’s plight. “All your da’s gold and cattle and you can’t outjump a runt like me.”
Nettle’s ear had started bleeding again. He put his hand to it, pressed, and gave Talen the eye.
“Don’t look at me like that,” said Talen.
“Maybe their magic is like some mushroom that takes a while to work its effects.”
“She was on my lap and then off,” said Talen. “She didn’t have time to do anything.”
Nettle raised his eyebrows. “She had time to kiss you.”
“And what’s a kiss? Nothing.”
“You don’t know that.”
Those words sliced right to his heart. He didn’t know. Besides, she could have worked something in the night. She’d almost admitted doing just that.
Rot those hatchlings. Rot them.
Talen looked at the ginger cookie in his hand. “What we need to do is get one of these to River. She can ferret out what the baker used.”
“And if it isn’t come-backs?”
“Then I’ll become a Sleth toy,” said Talen. “And my first depradation will be to wring your neck.” He handed the reins to Nettle and stepped out of the wagon. “What are you doing?” asked Nettle.
“Getting away from your stink,” said Talen.
Now that Talen had said it, he realized that he did smell more than before. Or that what he did smell was stronger. The smell of Iron Boy, the road dust, the woods, Nettle’s clothes that had sat in a cedar chest—the scents all lay heavily in the air.
What’s more, the itch in his limbs almost compelled him to move. “I’m going to jog a bit,” he said. “All we’ve got to do is work these come-backs through my system. A few hours and I’ll be right as rain.”
Hunger stood in a grove of trees smelling the the dead hanging about him, smelling the burning boy on the breeze. He’d been here. Been here recently.