Chapter 52: Results

  A steady stream of warmth, coupled with just a hint of moisture, caressed Theo’s face, causing him to stir. The rhythmic heat had a scent that reminded of…abble? He opened his eyes, seeing Wen’s face all but glued to his, her presence only an inch away from him—her mouth was open, releasing a gentle breath every few seconds—which was what he was feeling on his cheek. If Theo could move, he’d jump up in surprise at the sudden closeness: he had no memory of reaching this point. A weight pressed on him, stopping him from rousing. He angled his head, finding Grace’s hair covering the entirety of her face as her head rested on Theo’s chest.

  For the briefest moment, the absolute minimum amount of time possible to count, Theo feared something he could never undo had happened, something that would alter his relationship with both Wen and Grace forever. Then he realised they were all clothed, and he instead released a relieved sigh.

  The sudden rise and fall of his chest must’ve woken Grace as she released a noise of broken sleep while shifting her head. Her arm raised to steal away the hair covering her face. Their eyes met, and Theo could see the same confusion he’d experienced just moments ago haunting her. Her eyes darted to Wen, then she relaxed. The hazel-haired woman rose in a quick, fluid motion, one Theo wasn’t quite sure he’d notice if not watching her. He’d do the same, but that guaranteed waking Wen, her cheek resting on Theo’s shoulder.

  The door to the room—Theo just then noticing where he was—slid open, letting a cheeky-smiled Hank enter. They were back at the Barge, but the last thing Theo remembered was sitting by the nightly fire. Hank eyed the three of them, seeing Wen still asleep. It didn’t stop him from speaking, but his voice had a low, whispering cadence.

  “Nice to see you back in the land of the living,” he teased. “I’d think with so many more rooms…”

  “We were tired and didn’t know which one was taken,” Grace said, defending her honour. “We swooped in on the first empty room we could find.”

  Hank nodded his understanding. Grace was one person you wouldn’t want to annoy in the morning, which Hank also knew. If he were just talking to Theo, he might’ve kept the ruse up longer.

  Then, as Hank and Grace were on their way out, Theo realised how Wen might see things when waking up next to Theo, and just Theo, if her memory was as foggy as his were. He shifted; the quick motion of jerking his shoulder up caused the blonde to twist in her sleep, turning the other way around and releasing Theo’s body. Amazed both at how easy that had been and how deep of a sleep she must be in, Theo joined the others on their way outside after getting up from bed.

  Outside, the crisp morning sun promised another fine day for gardening, even violetberry harvesting, if the berries had turned purple. Tending his garden had become the perfect morning routine for him, a calm, relaxing, almost meditating activity for him to do while his body shook off the night’s sleep along with yesterday’s fatigue. He waved goodbye to the others, separating from them and heading towards the farming fields where his garden plots were. An additional set of plots, bigger than his current ones, had been readied along the outer wall of the Barge, from the end of the tavern and along the wall to the crafting hall.

  In the next sowing of seeds, he would start using those plots, but he wouldn’t risk harming his current plants just to move them. Before sowing more seeds, he’d need to buy more of them or wait through winter, as most of his current plants wouldn’t survive outside of a greenhouse. A greenhouse was on his wish list, but in theory, they had until winter to get that set up—plenty of time.

  He approached his plots, green shrubbery of various densities and forms meeting him. The banaberry bushes were looking nice and tall, almost like trees. With a grin, Theo headed straight to his violetberry bushes, though, to taste the fruits of his labour. A perfect purple colour dotted the bushes, armies of berries threatening to weigh down the slim branches holding them up. The very topmost of berries, though perfect spheres like the rest, had a tinge of red on them still. Just a little while more before those were primed and ready.

  Theo picked a handful of purple drops, feeling their slight resistance to being pulled from their nourishing home. But they were ready. Their colour demanded to be harvested, else they’d keep more of their brethren from springing to life. The bush wriggled like jelly as the tiny umbilical snapped back, starting a dance of violet and green. Left in Theo’s hand were five globes, each as striking as the next. He played with one with his thumb, feeling how hard the thin shell and fruity meat were. He was careful not to press too hard.

  He ate one. It rolled around in his mouth before his teeth pressed against it. It burst, sending an explosion of sourness through his mouth. He hadn’t tasted anything sour since arriving in Aera—it caught him by surprise and his face crumpled like paper—then came the flavour, expanding and growing inside his mouth as a wave of tart juice spread over his tongue. His eyes opened wide in shock, the taste of it overpowering the sour grimace. It was divine. Perfectly sour, juicy, yet dry.

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  Willam wasn’t wrong; keeping the bushes on the edge of drying out did wonders for the end-product. Theo hadn’t tasted other Violetberries before, but Willam called them bland and watery if they got too much water—this wasn’t that by a long shot.

  The gardener looked around, hoping to see Willam already tending his field. He wasn’t, so Theo grabbed another handful of berries to dart back across Sigil Lake to hand them out to anyone who wanted a taste. He knew he wasn’t the best judge, having never tasted them before. They were far superior to what he considered his own world’s equivalent to be, though.

  Wen exited the Barge just as he passed it, rubbing her eyes and face. The sunlight seemed uncomfortable to her. She spotted him.

  “You could’ve woken me,” she said. Maybe her memories of last night weren’t so muddled as his were, after all.

  “Sorry, I—we thought you’d rather like to sleep a bit more. We were all so tired, after all.” It was a white lie, one that wouldn’t be too hurtful if she saw through it.

  She smiled. “Thanks for deciding to keep us company. In lieu of the comfort of pillows and blankets, you were an…adequate alternative.”

  Theo had no recollection of making that choice, nor of the lead-up to it, but it had all been quite innocent, all things considered. He returned the smile and said, “As were you. Hey, taste this; is it good enough to use as an ingredient?” He handed her a single nut-sized berry.

  She cast only a quick glance at it as she took it in her hand before she tossed it into her mouth. Theo could hear the moment its skin burst even while her mouth was closed. The moment her face wrinkled was absolute gold—because then he knew he’d done it for real—then came the moment she squealed in ecstasy when the flavour took over. The inside of her mouth had a slight purple tint when she next spoke:

  “That’s the best freakin’ violetberry I’ve ever had! I demand exclusive rights! Theo, I can help you turn those purple balls to gold!”

  He laughed. “Great! Maybe not exclusive rights, but you’ll get plenty! I might take up juicing or something, maybe make some jam or jelly out of it. People enjoy products that aren’t alcohol too, right?” It was a joke, but Wen might be the wrong person to ask that of either way. She seemed to take it in stride, though.

  “I suppose. And this berry took you just a week to grow from a seed?”

  “Nine or ten days,” he corrected, thinking back as he did.

  “I want one of your plots’ worth of these to use as I deem fit. Not the shady farm-adjacent ones, but the ones at the Barge. You’ll get twenty per cent of what I earn from it.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Twenty-five, but you better plant them today!”

  “Wen, I—”

  “Not goin’ higher, that’s my final offer.”

  “I guess? I would’ve let you have it anyway,” Theo shrugged.

  “Don’t be daft; once the economy gets going around here, you’ll need your own coin just like the rest of us. I won’t make you another deal this good ever again, but know that whatever I make with these delicious berries will make us both loaded.”

  Theo smiled. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Wen joined him towards the forest and the lumberyard, where the builders and lumber workers kept to most of their day. The builders had set up a design table there, though Theo could see Bella having already started on the foundations of one of the ghostly houses further north from the forest. Hank remained among the loud chopping, dragging and de-barking of wood, hands placed firm on the table. He seemed deep in thought.

  Willam was there, just at the edge of the forest alongside Julie, chatting away the morning. Neither of the pair noticed him and Wen on the approach, so Theo would give them a moment more. Hank and Moody could taste first.

  “I don’t do sweet or sour,” Moody said, nodding his head in a polite greeting as he went about his day. OK…

  “I’ve only ever seen him eat fish or meat, now that I think about it,” Wen said.

  “He ‘accepts’ mushrooms,” Hank said with a chuckle. “Now, what’s this? The fruits of your labours, I take it?”

  Theo gave him a violetberry, which Hank, too, tested with a gentle squeeze before putting it in his mouth. This time Theo didn’t hear it pop, nor did his face scrunch up. A gentle pop sounded as his mouth opened again, though this one came from his tongue clicking against his upper mouth.

  “That’s fantastic,” the builder said. “You’ve done a great job, Theo!”

  “Thanks,” Theo said, flashing a smile. “That one wasn’t as sour?”

  “Oh, I just deal well with tartness, don’t worry. I don’t even react to those Wantai warheads, you know, the small, multi-coloured peas? When we first got married, Bella tried sneaking them into my food just to see if I’d ‘slip up’, but I just don’t have a reaction to it.”

  “I’ve heard of those!” said Wen, eyes widening. “They’re supposed to be almost pure citric acid.”

  “Don’t know much about the chemistry of them,” Hank shrugged with a laugh.

  “Citric acid is a well-known way to add some tartness to something. There are certain yeasts that produce it that I’ve used to make sour ale. Makes for a lighter, fresher brew, perfect for summer nights, I think.”

  “Sign me up for a batch of that if you make it here, then!”

  “Deal! Though, I’m sure these berries would be fine with regular yeast. It’ll be flavouring in an ale anyway, not its base. Could make a decent wine, though…”

  Wen seemed lost in thought as she mumbled on about crafts, draughts, and different variations of alcoholic beverages. Sharing a glance, Hank and Theo stepped aside, toward the design table, where Hank showed Theo his progress on some modules they could add to the normal houses, like a workshop and a smithy for the new residents that should be on their way over even now. For now, it was only sketching—the crafters themselves should have some input on the plans—and they might eventually be stand-alone buildings rather than more compact additions.

  Theo and Wen, now snapped out of her alcoholic schemes to make some money on Theo’s product, then headed towards Willam and Julie, who were now also chatting with Oakley. He must’ve come out of the forest during their chat with Hank. Theo was more eager for Willam to taste the violetberries than anyone else; he’d been the one to teach him to garden, after all, including the…edging…of the violetberries. Without a word uttered, Theo held out his hand to the three of them, one violetberry for each of them at the ready. Willam’s face lit up, and he plucked one into his own hand.