The Orphan and the Thief

Chapter 19: Moonflower

They stood on the Black Swan's porch, watching the moon rise high in the night sky. The day had been fruitless, but that hadn't been a surprise to Toad. The entire fortnight had been fruitless. Toad was exhausted, his insides writhing like he'd swallowed a bucket of worms.

The crowd on the porch was larger than ever before. Practically everyone was staying up to see whether they would find a moonflower at last. Toad felt a bit like a contestant in a competition, as the proprietor gave him a hearty clap on the back and a woman wrapped in a balaclava cheered, "Good luck, sonny!"

The moonlight was so bright they didn't even stumble on tufts of grass as they began their search for the last time. They split up, Toad heading north, Melena going south. Hazel's scales glinted in the moonlight where she sat perched atop Melena's shoulders.

Wanting more eyes to help with the task, Toad untied Joe from his hip and carried him high over his head, only feeling slightly foolish. The need to not look like an idiot had long since passed. As his eyes scanned the ground, he felt gloom settle over him like a shroud.

"After bleeding dragons and ogres and man-eating cave monsters we get stumped by a stupid flower!"

"Cheer up, Master Toad!" said Joe above his head. "The night is not yet lost!"

"It's no use, Joe. We've looked everywhere. There ain't any moonflowers and I'm gonna be the one that's gotta tell Cutter. Maybe —" Toad swallowed. "Maybe Owl will give me some more time." He didn't feel hopeful.

"You didn't have this dour look on life when speaking with m'lady," Joe observed.

"I was trying to tally —"

"Master means rally —"

"Whatever! I just don't want her to be so upset." And much to Toad's annoyance, this statement was very true. Truer than he intended. It made him upset when Melena was upset. The realization did not improve his mood. If anything, he grew more nettled.

The lights of the inn were pinpricks in the distance now. He had no idea where Melena and Hazel were.

"I say, Master Toad, did you explore that thicket?" asked Joe suddenly.

"What thicket?" Toad turned in the direction Joe indicated, feeling that every which way of these dratted fields looked the same. "I don't know," said Toad, dismally. "We shoulda put up markers."

Something large moved in the moonlight, making Toad start.

"What's that?" he hissed, peering nervously in the dark as the shape crossed the field toward the thicket. He held Joe even higher, hoping the mug's eyes possessed keener sight.

"Perhaps one of the ravenous elk?" Joe suggested.

The thought that perhaps an elk was on its way to gobble up maybe the very last moonflower ignited Toad's blood.

"NO YOU DON'T!"

He barreled forward, shouting at the top of his lungs, waving his arms in the air, making Joe whoop in excitement. The elk froze. Jerking its face around and seeing Toad charging at it like a rhino, it bounded off. Toad skidded to a stop, breathing heavy.

"Well done, Master Toad!" Joe praised. "Perhaps if you do that every night the moonflowers will return!"

"I'll consider it when I'm on the run from Owl," heaved Toad dryly. "Hey." Toad straightened. "D'you smell that?"

"I cannot smell anything."

Toad took a deep breath. Whatever it was was very odd. It was sweet — almost sickly. Like overripe, rotting fruit. Toad sniffed harder, turning this way and that. He took a few steps to his right and ... yes, the smell was stronger, coming from the thicket Joe had pointed out. He lowered the mug, cradling him in the crook of his elbow, and tried to push his way through the thorny mess. In the dark, it was harder to maneuver and his coat was ensnared repeatedly. After a few choice curses and much kicking, he stumbled through, tripped over a log, and sprawled face-down in the dirt.