“That kiss yow were goin’ to give me!”

“Oh. Right. That. Yeah.” Mucum was aware that everyone was staring at them. “Do I have to?”

Flo’s face dropped. “Only if yow want to,” she said quietly.

“Go on!” said a soldier nearby. “Otherwise we’ll have to kill you for being really stupid.”

“Fair enough!” Even though he stank and was sweaty and his arm was about to drop off, he leaned over, feeling her lips growing ever closer.

“At last!” said Ark.

“Yuck!” Shiv shouted as she ran out from the shadows to cling on to her brave brother.

Taking on rabid rats was a doddle compared to this. But finally, when his lips met Flo’s, Mucum thought they were softer than any down-deep mushroom.

The kiss was honest, true, and very squelchy. A cheer went up, spreading out from the Rootshooters to the soldiers. Even the King, conferring with Ark, managed a smile.

As Ark looked on, he found a whole strange broth of feelings mixed up in his breast. He should be glad for them both, but there was a tiny twinge of jealousy, though he’d never admit it.

Flo finally broke off in more of a sob than a gasp of joy. “Oh! Oi am a fungus-eating, selfish tunnel bore!” she suddenly wailed. “All Oi wants is a bit of ‘appiness. Silly, silly me!” She beat at her breast as she turned toward the floor where a figure lay. A figure who would never wink, nor joke, nor tell her off again. “Moi daddy was not so lucky! Woe is ’ere rooted in moi shriveled-up heart!”

Mucum grabbed the girl and held her tight in his big, rocking arms. She was right. There were many more families that night that would begin the dark passage of grief. And all because of the greed of a distant empire that was never satisfied.

47• AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR

Ark was good at holding his breath. Sometimes, there were clams to be had at the bottom of his local cruck pool. It was a boyhood competition. Who could dive the twenty feet to the bottom off the slippery moss edge and stay down the longest? The pool, high up in the trees, was fed by the roots a mile below, and when the water filtered up, it carried with it the spores of these tasty creatures. The trick was to scoop at the embedded clams, using your fingers like a comb before pushing them into a net bag. Once he reached the surface again, heaving air into his lungs, it was time to count the catch. The most clams won and Ark was still unbeaten.

Today, the sun shone down as he broke the surface, dappling the water. There were already bare patches in the trees where the leaves had fallen. Those that remained were golden, almost see-through. And there were pockets of frost where frills of ice gilded the shadows. It was all change.