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Cerulean frowns. “Might you two be forthright to the rest of us?”

“I second that,” Lark says. “For the record, I’m no fan of cryptic information. We’ve been getting enough of that from these Fables.”

“Out with it,” I say.

A muscle leaps in Elixir’s temple, his scales glinting. “I am familiar with the ingredient. It once graced the tables in my brewing den before the flood.”

Cypress rubs the bridge between his eyebrows. “It is the Evermore Blossom.”

This news cleaves through the room like an arrow.

I bow my head, a slew of curses stacking on my lips. Unfortunately, neither my best friend, nor my brother are fucking with us. They’d be the last ones in this wild to try.

The Evermore Blossom.

The flower Scorpio used on the raven. The flower that can’t be destroyed for shit, can’t be replanted anywhere else, and can only be found in one place.

By magnifier, Cypress and Elixir had meant enhancement. The extract would intensify Juniper’s strength, reinforce her while carrying our kid.

It would save hers and our kid’s lives.

Problem is, there’s only one Evermore Blossom in existence. And it’s located just south of The Seeds that Give, right in the crotch of enemy terrain.

My gaze stalls on Juniper, whose grave expression rearranges itself, resolve folding across her features like a shield. “I’ll go.”

“Not a chance,” I snap.

“I’m a huntress. I’m smarter than you.”

“I can’t agree more, but while you’d make the most formidable companion under any other circumstances, you can’t take that gamble.”

I wait, knowing she’s already aware of this. It’s a dangerous journey, and Juniper’s too feeble. Her chest sinks, hating the notion that she can’t be of use, can’t contribute to her own safety.

But finally, she grabs her spectacles. “Well. If can’t exercise my hunting skills, I can still exercise my mind.”

Except when my woman shifts, she notices her bare shoulders and legs sticking out of the blanket. In an extremely delayed reaction, her eyes bloat. “Where are my clothes?”

I manifest to the cabin, where I collect enough fresh clothes and research materials for her, including the original Book of Fables and plenty of parchment. Since the group had already brought Juniper’s notebook, she’ll have enough to keep her occupied.

By the time I return to The Heart of Centaurs, Sylvan has retreated outdoors to find a stream. Our band convenes in the tent to make plans.

Juniper and I tell everyone about the fleeting speculation that her pregnancy could be the answer—the key to restoring our fauna, our world, and our existence. It’s a legit theory. But like we’d already realized, it doesn’t match the Fable’s content, doesn’t work with the tips we’ve been given. After deliberating, everyone agrees.

Although Juniper grunts about not wanting people to fuss, Elixir and Cove will stay with her, for curing and nurturing reasons. We need the one who’s able to brew the remedy to stick close. And we need the one who’s capable of keeping her sister calm to camp here as well.

As an extra precaution, the community of centaurs will minister to Juniper, if any extra healing arts become essential. Cloistered in this neutral landscape, everyone will be safe.

Cypress volunteers to go with me. Lark and Cerulean are right behind him, one eager to act for her sister, the other unwilling to let his mate go anywhere without him.

Hours pass quickly. Dawn bleeds through the tent and gilds the space.

When we’re done harnessing our weapons, I say, “Better to travel when the Fae are sleeping.”

“I have several routes mapped out,” Cypress supplies. “The alternate paths are meticulous, but they will help us evade detection.”

“I’ll scout the area from above,” Cerulean offers.

“I reckon myself pretty good at solving mazes,” Lark says while harnessing her whip.