The morning was bright and Lexie woke early to sun streaming through the windows and birds chirping. Curtains were going to be a necessity if she ever wanted to sleep past dawn.
She rolled out of bed and did her morning routine, lighting the fire and putting the water on to boil before she shuffled out into the brisk morning to wash her face and brush her teeth at the pump. She wished again for a bathroom, but mornings like this, she didn't really mind.
The rain had moved on, and the world was damp, but vibrant in the sun, and the air smelled fresh and green, as though everything had taken a deep breath. Lexie breathed in, inhaling the smell of the sea and field and forest and fresh turned earth.
She looked over her little patch of field. The soil was still dark with moisture. It would be alright to not water today, she thought. Back inside, she had her coffee and two more of the donuts for breakfast, and packed the last one in its bag for lunch, along with a cheese sandwich she'd bought the day before. Then she dressed, tucked her lunch, and some instant coffee, in her pack, and took her copper bucket.
Lexie tugged on her tall green boots and shrugged on the cable knit sweater she'd found in Martha's trunk.
She considered bringing the rain slicker and she'd bought a proper rain hat as well, at the general store. The kind the fishermen wore, with a wide brim to keep the rain out of their faces, and low at the back to stop the rain running down your neck. It was bright yellow, probably the battered old rain slicker had once been the same bright shiny yellow. Eventually she'd get around to getting a new slicker also, but this one was serviceable, even if it was a bit too large, and smelled a bit of salt, sweat and pipe tobacco. And it fit over a bulky wool sweater, which was good on the island.
But the weather was inviting, and the sky cloudless and blue.
Good weather for picking mushrooms, she thought.
She pulled the door closed behind her. Honestly, Lexie had no idea how she kept getting roped into these things. One minute she was having a nice conversation and the next, someone in town was asking her, "Oh, do you ever go in the forest?" and she would say something like, "Oh yes, I gather firewood in there sometimes," and the next thing would be a request: "If you happen to be in the forest, I need three sow's ear mushrooms for my stew. It's Harley's favorite, you know, and I just can't get them in the general store. They grow wild near the caves though.
So Lexie was off to the caves. She picked up her trusty whacking stick, and closed and locked the door to the cabin behind her. Everyone in town assured her there was no need to lock your doors in Albatross Bay, and most of them didn't. But city habits died hard, and Lexie was out here all by herself. She didn't want to come home to any surprises.
Not that the lock on the door was great. She hefted the old key as she slipped it into the zippered pocket of her slicker. Could probably pick that lock with a screwdriver. But it made her feel better. It wasn't even that she had anything valuable or expensive in the cabin. Aside from the meager bag of dwindling coins that constituted her entire life savings.
Lexie brushed through the tall grass, cutting across the oen field around the cabin for the forest, rather than walking along the Coast Road to where the trail let out. The wet grass left a damp strip on her jeans above the top of her boots. She should have scythed it down already, but she'd been so busy.
Lexie set off into the forest, in the general direction Phyllis had shown her on the map in the library. It was a pleasant walk, the undergrowth was not too thick, and soon she stumbled onto a light trail leading in the direction she wanted to go. She followed it. That was probably better than just stumbling about. It was probably used by other mushroom pickers, at least Lexie hoped it was. Maybe it would lead her straight to a good mushroom picking spot.
It was mid morning by the time she reached the Blackwood grove.
Once she was in the forest, the ground opened up a little. There were clusters of blueberry bushes, and wild craneberry, but narrow paths ran through them, possibly animal trails, or just a natural feature of the rocky ground. Soon Lexie would wear her own trails. One led to the spider grove, another to the stand of pines where she'd been cutting down trees to lay in a winter supply of firewood. And one led to the caves.
It was easily an hour through the undergrowth of the forest. At least the trees protected her from the worst of the rain. The damp chill seeped in, though, and Lexie was glad for the bulky wool sweater and the thick wool socks.
Clouds drifted in, and by the time Lexie reached the grove, the sky was gray and gloomy.
As she approached the forest near the caves the trees gradually gave way from the slender new growth like what surrounded Lexie's cabin, trees that had only grown up in the past thirty to fifty years, and merged into old growth. Great, squat trees, so thick it would take three of her holding hands to reach around their trunks. Locally, this was called the Blackwood Forest, because these were Blackwood trees.
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They bark was a dark gray, though in the dim light of the overcast day, and soaked from the recent rain, it glistened black. If you cut down the trees, Lexie knew, the wood inside was also black. A deep, rich black when sanded and oiled and polished. The solicitor's desk was made of Blackwood. When Lexie admired it, he had told her it was an heirloom. The Blackwood made beautiful furniture, but where it was really in high demand was musical instruments, apparently. The graceful tapered bodies of cellos and violins, or the sturdy housing of a piano, Blackwood was coveted by the makers.
This Blackwood was off limits, though. It was also the only place Goblin's Cup mushrooms grew, according to the book. The mushrooms had a thick flat body that curved as they grew to a point, giving them a shape like a sow's ear. And the grew at the base of Blackwood trees among the thick viney roots that crawled along the surface of the ground.
To make it even more difficult, Goblin's Cup were most frequent in late autumn, when the leaves had fallen and made it nearly impossible to spot them. They could be found in spring, but they would be buried in last autumn's leaf litter.
No wonder the general store didn't have any. Lexie sighed, and crouched down, gently sweeping leaves away from the base of the tree. It was going to be a long afternoon.
After the third tree, she was starting to feel a chill. It hadn't been so bad when she was walking through the forest, keeping warm, but now, in the damp grove, the shade of the trees, and the clouded over sky cast a chill. And crouching for a while while she checked a tree, walking a few steps, and crouching still again, the cold was settling on Lexie. By the time she'd checked a dozen trees, she'd only found one Goblin's cup, and her fingers were ice cold.
Lexie had the coffee and sandwich in her bag. She knew it was going to be a long day, but the coin would be worth it. And the weather was good when she left.
The rain began.
"Ugh," said Lexie, straightening up. She was regretting this quest, she'd much rather be home in the cabin, reading up on farming. Snug in the cabin with a warm mug of cocoa, in her soft pants and cozy sweater while the rain fell outside.
She sighed. The caves were close, about fifteen minutes walk. She could shelter there and-- no. She hadn't brought her sword. Dumb. But it was heavy, and awkward, the way it banged against her leg. Lexie hadn't planned on needing it. So she'd left it at home.
So not the caves, she wasn't prepared for the dungeon. But maybe there was another cave, or at least a sheltered spot along the cliffs where the cave that held the dungeon was located. She could see the cliff face rising up above the canopy of the Blackwood. It was a darker mass of grey in the gray mist of rain. Lexie hunched more into her coat and set off at a brisk pace, trying to warm up with the movement.
She reached the wall of the cliff. It was irregular and craggy, but no nooks or alcoves where she might shelter. The caves were to her right, so she decided to head left. The Blackwood stretched along the base of the cliffs for a long way. If she found someplace to shelter, she could resume her search for Goblin's cups wherever she was.
She walked along the treeline. There was an expanse between the forest and the base of the cliff littered with rocks, small loose shale, and huge boulders and heavy slabs that had broken free and tumbled down. Lexie felt it would be prudent. The walking was easier along the edge of the trees, where fallen branches were the most common obstacle, and a few rocks that had rolled unusually far.
Five minutes later there was still no sign of a good shelter, and Lexie was wondering if maybe she should have headed toward the caves instead, maybe her chances would be better where there was one opening already. Then she saw up ahead a place where the cliff face jutted out sharply, cutting into the Blackwood like a wedge.
"Alright," said Lexie. "That far. I'll go that far, and if there's nowhere to get out of the rain, I'll call it quits for today. Go home, get warm, and try again tomorrow."
The wedge appeared close, but Lexie still hadn't adjusted to nature distances. It took ten minutes of brisk walking before she was close enough to make out details in the rock face.
It didn't look promising, but she'd made a deal with herself. She kept walking.
What had seemed a sharp wedge from a distance was broader and more blunted as she walked closer. It was scale, she realized. From a distance it was sharp, but near, as she picked her way over branches and rocks and pushed through clusters of shrubs that grew on the border of the forest, it was a gradual change. She'd meant to walk as far as the point, but she couldn't tell where the point was, now that she was close.
Well. She was here.
She couldn't tell what time it was. The sun was covered by the clouds and she'd left her watch at the cabin. She hadn't thought she would need it in the forest. And to be fair, she didn't.
Her stomach rumbled, telling her it was past lunch time. And she was cold and tired and hungry.
"Ten more minutes," Lexie said. "If I don't find a place to sit and eat in the next ten minutes, I'm done."
She hated that the day had been a waste, one lousy Goblin's cup. And by the time she got home, she'd be too worn out and miserable to do farm work. But it was what it was. She'd just light the fire and make something hot, instant soup maybe, and go to bed.
She was so busy thinking about how nice it would be, being warm and dry, that she nearly missed the small opening in the cliff face.
It was a narrow gash, only a bit taller than Lexie was, and just wide enough to slip into. She approached carefully. She didn't think it should lead into the dungeon, but she also didn't know much about dungeons or caves.
The entrance was dark, fading to solid black a few meters in. Of course she didn't have a lantern. Just like the sword, she hadn't been planning on needing it. She pulled her phone out of her bag and turned on the flashlight app.
The crevice opened into wider cave, a couple meters wide where Lexie could see, and it wound around a bend in the wall.