‘Go and greet Orange,' Ferris said, pointing to Orange's carriage that was rolling up to the compound wall. 'I’ll send Miles over to lower the wall.’

The carriage came to a stop at the back of the compound, where the compound wall sat flush with one of the rows of rooms. The Forester driving the carriage jumped down and met Caruso with a strong handshake and an equally strong waft of horse stink, ‘Hey friend, name’s Jag.’

‘Hi, I’m Caruso.’

‘Got a bunch of kitchen supplies and a bunch of other weird shit.’

‘Where's Orange?' Caruso asked, looking expectantly at the carriage. 'Is he inside?’

‘Naw.'

Caruso found himself a little crestfallen at Orange's absence.

'He left a note though,' Jag said. 'Lemme find it.’ Jag began rummaging through the saddle bags.

Caruso was wondering why Jag stopped the carriage where he did, when a section of the wall lowered to reveal Miles and Miranda standing in the large larder that tacked on to the kitchens. For whatever reason, Caruso never considered being able to enter and exit the compound from the back of the first floor buildings. He’d figured they were made of stone all the way through. It made a lot of sense for delivering kitchen supplies.

Jag and Miranda greeted like old friends. Miles, however, ignored the other Forester and stared at Caruso, ‘When you’re done, replace the wall yourself,’ he said before walking back through the kitchens. While a small and simple thing, Caruso was quietly thrilled Miles trusted him with that responsibility.

‘Where’s Orange?’ Miranda asked.

‘Apparently he left a note,’ Caruso said.

She didn’t seem overly surprised at his absence and began unloading the carriage.

‘Found it,’ Jag finally announced and handed Caruso a folded slip of fancy, expensive paper. Inside, written with elaborate penmanship it said, somewhat redundantly:

I will not be arriving with the carriage—Orange

He passed it to Miranda who just rolled her eyes. ‘That’s very informative.’

‘Where do you think he is?’ Caruso asked.

‘I don’t think anyone knows where Orange goes,’ she said.

Jag took the horses to the stables before returning to help unpack the carriage. There were bottles of oil and vinegar, sacks of flour and salt, jars of preserves, packets of salted fish, and many other containers filled with obscurities Caruso couldn’t guess at. All of these were stored away in Miranda’s larder. Everything else in the carriage was supplies for mushroom cultivation.

‘These going inside too?’ Jag asked, holding up a couple of bags of various animal droppings.

‘Those are bags of shit…’ Miranda said.

‘Yeah, you want them in your pantry, or…’

‘No, Jag. I don’t want bags of shit in my pantry.’

Jag shrugged, ‘Doesn’t smell that bad.’

They emptied the carriage and placed the cultivating supplies outside on the ground. Once all laid out, it became clear how much stuff there was. Orange had picked up everything Caruso had requested, and may have gone a little overboard.

There was one pine log and smaller branches of both ash and elm wood; several bales of various sawdusts, as well as a big sack of mulch; there were pine needles and maple leaves, fir leaves and oak; the bags of droppings Jag seemed to like labelled “boar”, “horse”, and one horrifying bag labelled “human”—presumably a joke from Orange as it was luckily empty. Caruso showed Miranda this bag, and in an uncharacteristic moment of daring, threw it at her, causing her to scream and slap him. Jag found that funny.

There were rolls of cloth, sacks of horse grain, a bag of chicken feet, and a lump of termites nest. Then a dozen little finger bowls with airtight lids. And Finally, six tiny boxes, each sealed with a fancy wax stamp. No one knew what they were, but Caruso had an idea. He’d seen similar packaging before at the markets.

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‘Well, that’s that,’ Jag said. ‘I’ll get this carriage out of your way.’

‘Thanks for helping Jag,’ Miranda said. ‘I’m heating up some water. I’m sure you’d love a bath.’

‘Na I’m 'right. Wouldn’t turn down some grub though.’

‘There’s food laid out inside, help yourself. Let me know if there’s anything else I can get for you.’

Jag nodded at Miranda and Caruso then wheeled the carriage away.

‘So,’ Miranda said. ‘Where did you want to set up?’

Caruso looked around, ‘What about right here?’

‘In the clearing? I thought you’d want to be inside the walls?’

‘I can make my own walls.’

‘I forgot you could do that.’

Caruso erected three walls around them and the now open larder, creating an area that jutted out into the clearing. Similar to the duelling arena Miles had made for Ferris, only smaller. Caruso smiled to himself—this too would function as a duelling arena of sorts. ‘This way we can come and go from your kitchens.’

‘Oh I love it!' Miranda said. 'It’s like my own personal backyard!’

Caruso erected a shorter wall alongside one of the side walls. ‘And now we have some shelving.’

Miranda clapped and began moving the smaller items onto the shelf. ‘So,’ she said, stacking the bowls on the new shelf, ‘how do we start? I’m getting very curious how this all works.’

‘Well, how much do you know about growing shrooms?’

‘I know that spores turn into shrooms, but I’m not quite sure how to incorporate the termite's nest, or chicken feet, or finger bowls, or any of this stuff really. So I guess you’ll have to teach me everything!’

Caruso took a minute to gather his thoughts. The more he thought, the more unnerved he became. There were far too many reasons why he needed this to work. He didn’t remember feeling this way when teaching Webber. Then again, Webber didn’t look at him the same way Miranda did…

Caruso shook his head clear and decided to just launch in. ‘Let me give you an overview of what we’ll be doing. What you said is basically correct: a spore turns into shrooms. But that is like saying an apple seed turns into apples—the most important part of that process is the apple tree. Likewise, with mushrooms, we must concentrate on the mycelium.’

‘Wait, let me grab a pen.’ She rushed away and back. ‘Okay, please continue.’

‘We will do this in three stages. In stage one we will germinate the spores into mycelium, using the little finger bowls. In stage two we will expand the mycelium into the horse grain. And in stage three we will plant it outside. We will do this with all six mushrooms. And starting from stage two, each shroom will have its own specific nutrient, growing medium, and sunlight requirements. If we do each stage correctly, we should be able to grow shrooms as good as those.’ Caruso gestured to the six boxes on the shelf.

Miranda only just seemed to really notice them. She walked over to the boxes with a curious expression. Picking one up, she turned it over in her hands.

‘Open it,’ Caruso suggested.

She carefully peeled through the fancy wax stamp and lifted the lid. Inside the box, under a layer of silk cloth, and sitting inside a bed of more silk cloth, lay the most perfect honeyfungus Caruso had ever seen. It was beautiful. And packaged as if it were a pair of diamond earings.

‘Oh wow! I can smell it! Look at it’s colour!’

Caruso knew what she wanted to do. ‘Go on. Give it a taste.’

‘Really?’ Her eyes widened. ‘We don’t need all of it?’ Without waiting for an answer, she took a small nibble and made a soft pleasureful moan which Caruso found rather distracting. Afterwards she just stood there with her mouth open. Without asking she turned and opened all the other boxes taking a small bite from both the berryshroom and then the firetongue. She didn’t sample the medicinals.

‘Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve tasted a firetongue? I used to make a firetongue curry from my food cart in Jamala. It was spicy and sweet, and oh my God! I want to make it again.’

‘If I’m right, you should be able to.’

‘But all these mushrooms are so…perfect. Not even Daniel—the old grower who died—not even his shrooms came out this good. When I camped out in Zone 1 I don’t think I ever saw ones like this. What makes these so special?’

‘Perfect growing conditions. It is rare for them to grow this good in the wild. And when they do, the best gatherers will always get to them first. I’m guessing Orange paid an obscene amount for these at the market.’

‘And you’re saying the ones we grow can be this good?’

‘If we can successfully recreate the perfect growing conditions, and don’t make any mistakes, then yes. In fact, we might even be able to do better.’

‘Then let's do this!’

Caruso was waiting for her to voice her doubts, or at least express them in some way. Normally he was good at picking up on that sort of thing. And he just claimed he might be able to grow a better mushroom than the perfect specimen in Miranda's hand. But not even for a fraction of a second did he sense any scepticism in her. She took him at his word.

‘Okay let’s get started on stage one,’ Caruso said. ‘This stage is easy. All we need to do is fill the little bowls with jelly, and place a small cutting of each shroom inside. Overnight the spores should germinate and spread mycelium throughout the bowl.’

Miranda finished scribbling on the back of Orange’s note. ‘Jelly? What do you mean exactly?’

‘Well, in Duskydale's Mushroom Compendium, he claims a jelly like substance provides the perfect medium for encouraging germination and early mycelial growth. He made his own jelly using a specific strain of seaweed. But we don’t have that. This is why I got the chicken’s feet. I read something about chicken jelly—’’

‘Oh, you mean a congealed broth?’

‘I guess so.’

‘Clever. Chicken’s feet will be perfect for that. I was already heating some water for Jag’s bath, but I have the feeling he won’t be using it…Do I need to add anything else to the broth?’

‘No, I think keep it plain.’

‘So, we just need enough to fill six of those bowls?’

‘I’d like enough to fill all ten if possible. I want to have multiple attempts at bittergill. That's the one I’m most worried about. If I fail to cultivate bittergill, that means Kactus was right all along. Even if we succeed with all the other shrooms, it will still feel like a loss.’

‘You know, besides Kactus, I don’t think anyone else would feel that way. At least I sure wouldn’t.’

Miranda washed the chicken’s feet and began putting them in the pot of simmering water. Caruso thought about what she said, but couldn’t quite see things her way. For him, the only acceptable result was successfully cultivating all six mushrooms perfectly.