2. Yera

Chapter two

Yera

I don't know how much time passes between the light going out and the storm easing. It simultaneously feels like five minutes and twelve hours. No matter. The rain no longer beats on the tent, and the sound of trees and shrubs whipping in the turbulent wind no longer stings my ears. It all seems to end rather abruptly.

My curiosity gets the best of me, and I pull an emergency kinetic flashlight from under my pillowcase and unzip the door to the tent.

"Where are you going?" Mariana calls after me. Her protective instinct takes over as she reaches for me, her hand just missing my ankle before I step out.

"I want to see the damage," I call back to her.

Utter shock. "What is this?" I say inaudibly into the night. I think the whisky we downed during the storm may have had hallucinogenic properties because there is no logical explanation. Ava and Mariana barrel out of the tent behind me, and their jaws go slack at the sight.

Nothing happened. There is not a drop of moisture on the ground, not a leaf blown from a tree.

The surrounding forest is wholly still, like the first morning after a snowstorm.

Mariana runs her hands anxiously through her thick black hair, her green eyes grave. "Did we all imagine that…like a group hysteria?" She fingers a fern leaf and lets the dry edges crack between her pads.

There is a light buzzing in the air, and it sounds electric and foreign. The forest, crashing with noise mere minutes ago, now hums with…something I can't quite explain.

"We drank two flasks of whiskey. Could we all be drunk?" I ask, reaching for a logical explanation but knowing it would fall short.

We fan out into the campground, brushing up against dry branches and snapping brittle twigs under our boots—no sign of moisture a fierce wind, just calm.

The constant buzzing continues. "Can you hear that?" I ask no one in particular.

"Yes," Ava continues. "It sounds like a beehive or the hum of a server room." We spread out in different directions but stay close enough to hear one another.

"What are we looking for, exactly?" Mariana questions, cracking her boot over a rotten log.

"I don't know, but I want an answer. Something that would explain what we just experienced." My voice comes out desperate, like I'm craving the calm logic can bring .

I'm just looking for a reason. The obsessive need I have to descend deeper into the forest must be my need for answers, right? Nothing else.

The sky is bright despite the lack of a moon. A warning bell chimes in my head. That's not right. None of this seems right.

The voices of my friends echo in my thoughts, but they have become distant. The black forest closes in on me, but I follow the illuminated sky through the breaks in the trees. What am I following? What is that sound, that hum singing so sweetly in my ears? Like a siren song.

The thought vanishes from my mind as quickly as it came, dissipating in the night air like pollen.

I'm completely off the trail, bushwhacking through high grasses that bend and crack under my heavy footfalls. Then, I reach a break in the woods, opening into a high mountain meadow.

A brown ring of mushrooms lines the glen full of late summer wildflowers glowing as if infused with neon. I step over the mushrooms in the clearing, taking a long, deep inhale. The air tastes like beebalm and electricity and sits sweetly on my tongue.

I feel dazed, like the night has wrapped me in a blanket of liquid starlight, cradling me in the wild magic of this place. Then they begin to fall.

At first, I fear I've surrendered to madness when I see the three stars in Orion's belt start swaying and blinking. After that, the entire night sky descends on me, falling from the constellations like snow. Thousands of glowing orbs fill the already bright night.

What is happening? Am I hallucinating? That thought seems to ring true, and I mull it over in my mind. Of course! We were exposed to some unknown fungi that would explain everything. It's an organism that is ever-evolving. There is no doubt in my mind that's what I'm experiencing. Putting a name to it and explaining this occurrence seems to ease something within me.

The stars start to fall into the surrounding space, hovering and dancing like jellyfish, weightless and effortless. I hold my palm out, and one hovers just above it, radiating a warmth that sinks into my skin. A small smile crooks my mouth at the touch.

The humming of that insistent yet rhythmic breathing gets louder and more potent. It appears like the creatures are keeping time with my heartbeat. It's lulling and intense all at once. Their light begins to flicker in and out to the beat. I close my eyes against the garish hues, still sensing the surrounding warmth.

My head begins to race and drift. One moment, I feel dizzy, as if floating through time and space. The next moment, ground to earth. To the body and flesh of nature itself, the giver of life and death—Yep, definitely a mushroom trip.

The direction seems to change, and my bearing on the world, on gravity itself, begins to slip in the haunting lure of these creatures.

I give in to all of it. I let their light and magic embrace me. Let the crushing weight of the power surround me and take over.

Giving in entirely to this makes my skin tingle. Their light beats under my eyelids, and the buzzing begins anew—this time in a calm sing-song melody that lulls me further into a trance.

My arms spread, welcoming whatever comes next, and I give in. Light envelopes my being and then takes me.