Cannoli laid her foraging finds along the blanket I’d napped on. I picked through them curiously, noting the similarities and differences to the vegetables and plants from my previous world.

“Wow. Not a speck of dirt on them,” I murmured.

“There’s a stream nearby, so I washed them.” Cannoli plopped her [Cat Pack] on the blanket behind the veggies.

“So, how do we cook them?” A dusty memory resurfaced of early days in Boy Scouts and tossing raw potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil into the bonfire. That’s an antique. Haven’t been in Boy Scouts since I was in the fifth grade.

“With this!” She proudly procured an iron pan from her pack. Keke rolled on her side and murmured in her sleep. “Whoops. With this,” Cannoli repeated in a whisper.

I blinked. “Do you always carry that around?”

Cannoli flinched and a light blush tinted her cheeks in the firelight. “W-well, Cooking to me is like Fishing to Keke. She always carries a fishing rod with her and I always have my pan.” She held it to her chest. “Maybe that’s weird.”

“N-no, not at all,” I stammered. “I think it’s awesome.”

“Yeah, because you’ll never go hungry with them around,” Ravyn quipped.

“And consequently, neither will you,” I retorted.

Ravyn’s eyes narrowed. “Baka.” She turned away and fed the strangely silent Ball another cookie.

I had to give the bird credit, he was more obedient than any animal I’d ever come across.

“A-anyway.” Cannoli retrieved two small paper squares that looked similar to what my spices were stored in. “I have some salt and pepper, so we can use those as the base flavors. Then we’ll use a couple of the ones that you grew and add them as we cook.” She pulled a flask from the pack and jiggled it in her hand, sloshing the liquid inside. “And fresh spring water will turn into our broth.”

I opened my mouth to ask what we were going to use for meat, but the image of Cannoli in tears over the tiger cub returned, and I closed it again. “You make it all sound so easy,” I said instead.

“Lots of practice.” Cannoli beamed. “Now, we have to add these to our soup in a particular order, or they won’t cook all the way through.”

Ravyn eyed the lineup. “I like my romanesco well-done.”

“Okay!” Cannoli nodded, then turned back to me. “Oh! Romanesco is this one.” She tapped a bright green vegetable with multiple spiral-patterned buds. It looked like I could attach it to the end of a branch and call it a weapon.

“That’s edible?”

“Mhmm. And delicious.” She poured the water into the pan and nibbled on her bottom lip. “Um, Matt? Can you take out the nigella and the oaxaca? I’ll be right back.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” I dug the [Spice Pouch] free from my [Cat Pack] and sifted through the containers in search of the black, peppery-looking nigella and the orange-red oaxaca.

Cannoli tip-toed over to the gently snoring Keke, her hands hovering a few inches above Keke’s outline. “Hm. Where is it?”

“Mmm,” Keke hummed in her sleep. “Matt…”

Cannoli froze, and her face turned bright red. I was sure I looked about the same. Ravyn’s eyes widened, and she masked a wicked smile behind one hand.

Keke giggled and rolled to her other side. “That feels nice,” she murmured.

“Pft,” Ravyn sputtered into her hand. “Kehehehe!”

Cannoli snatched the dagger from the sheathe with one swift movement, not disturbing the sleeping Keke at all. She returned to my side, her fingers working thoughtfully around the hilt. For a moment, I was afraid that the blade was destined for my chest.

Instead, she pulled one of the veggies toward her and cleared her throat, forcing another smile. “Alright, we need to dice this one into nice little cubes.”

“Um, do you want me to do it?”

“N-no!” Cannoli paused, then sighed. “I’m sorry. What if I show you this one, and you can do the next?”

“Sure, that sounds good.”

Ravyn withdrew a pocket knife from her pack and waved it in the air. “Here. Matt can use this and cut at the same time. I’m hungry.”

“Thanks.” I caught it as she threw it toward me and studied the design. It was one of those utility knives you’d buy going camping. Definitely something more akin to my previous life than Nyarlea. “Where’d you get this?”

“Nyarlothep. Try not to break it.” Ravyn shook her head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter where it came from. It cuts well, and that’s what you need, right?”

I picked the longest blade free and snapped it into position. How many things like this would we find in Nyarlothep? But that didn’t matter now. Oh spirit of Gordon Ramsey, guide my hands. “Right.”

Cannoli’s mood brightened once she was back to teaching me how each vegetable was cut. In her foraging expedition, she’d also pulled a few handfuls of grasses and thick leaves for seasoning. I’d only held a job flipping burgers, and spaghetti was about the fanciest thing I’d ever cooked. So learning how to make Soup du San Island felt insanely refined to my inexperienced taste buds.

“Okay, you’ll take just a pinch of this!” Cannoli plucked a bundle of tiny leaves from one of the seasoning’s she’d found and held it up for me to see.

“A pinch, huh? How much is ‘a pinch,’ exactly?” I teased.

“Just a pinch!”

“Just a pinch?” I grinned.

Cannoli reached forward with her free hand and gingerly pinched my cheek. “Just a pinch!”

She was so close to me. Were her fingers always this soft? Did she always smell this good? Get it together, Matt. I cleared my throat and searched for the same seasoning. There were two with equally small leaves—I had to guess.

“Okay, so take this one—”

“No, Matt, this one!” Cannoli giggled and guided my hand over the other plant.

Her thighs touched mine, and her silky hair brushed my arm as she moved. Her body felt so warm.

“R-right!” I picked up the sliver of a branch and pinched away its leaves. “There. Just a pinch.”

“Very good!” Her brilliant smile could have parted a rainstorm. “Now, we add it to our pot.”

“Two pinches, though?”

“Two pinches!” She sprinkled it in the water, and I followed suit.

We moved through the seasonings, placing some in the water and rubbing others into the vegetables themselves. By the time we’d finished, my hands smelled like a greenhouse. But in a good way.

“Alright, now we’ll put the pot on the fire and begin adding our vegetables.” Cannoli placed three of our chopped veggies—the death spiral included—into the water and carefully shifted the hefty pot over the fire. Her tongue poked through her cheek as she moved. I wondered if she’d always done that. “And now we’ll wait!”

I scratched my chin. “Wait for what?”

“Well, once it starts boiling, we’ll add in another veggie and the spices you grew!”

“Huh. Cooking’s a lot like Alchemy, huh?”

Cannoli blinked, and her ears twitched forward. “Hm. Yes, I suppose it is!” She smoothed her skirts and resettled herself. Was it just me, or did she somehow move closer? “Now, sometimes to pass the time, I like to sing songs.”

I frowned. “If you make me sing, you know it’ll wake Keke.”

Cannoli flinched. “Oh, come now, it wasn’t that bad—”

“It was that bad.”

Ravyn laughed. “Matt? Singing? Spare me.”

“Yeah, well, only one way to get cat’s paws, alright?” I could feel a heat rising to my face that had nothing to do with the fire.

Ravyn tilted her head. “Nani? Why didn’t you just gas out their tunnels?”

“A-anyway!” Cannoli interrupted. “We don’t have to sing! We could… talk, or come up with another game, o-or whatever you like, really!”

I wasn’t sure what to talk about, and singing was absolutely out of the question. The three of us wound up playing I Spy until the soup began to bubble.

“You can’t just pick a specific tree! How is that not cheating?” Ravyn crossed her arms indignantly over her chest. “‘I spy a single tree among hundreds.’ This game is stupid.”

Cannoli, clearly not to be deterred by Ravyn’s negativity, pressed on. “Okay, Matt! Add just a little bit of each [Energy] spice to the pot. Then we’ll stir it all up!”

I stared at the packet in my hand. “Okay, serious about this one. How much is ‘just a little bit’?”

Cannoli shook her head. “Sorry! Here.” She took the paper sack and cupped my hand. She leaned forward and poured a minute amount into my palm. “U-um. This much is good. For both.” She quickly withdrew her hands and shifted her eyes back to the pot.

“O-oh. Uh-huh.” I’m going to explode if you keep this up. Did she know what she was doing to me? Surely she had to know. With trembling hands, I sprinkled the spice over the soup.

Cannoli stirred it with a long branch. Maybe the wood’ll add to the flavor. Who am I to protest a spoon? “Okay! Now the other one!”

I measured about the same by eyeballing it and mimicked the movement. I had to admit it was starting to smell really damn good. I felt like my [Energy] was replenishing from the scent alone.

“Perfect! Now we give it a little while, and it’ll be finished!” Cannoli rocked back on her knees and tapped the branch against the side of the pot.

“How can you tell?”

“We use our noses!” She tapped the end of my nose for effect. “It smells different when it’s done. So take a big whiff now, and then I’ll tell you when to smell it again.”

“That sounds like it takes a lot of practice.”

Cannoli chuckled and brushed through her long hair with one hand. “Maybe. But your practice starts now, right?”

I nodded. “Right.”

“Good. Keep sniffing, then. Eventually, you’ll notice. I’m sure of it.”

We waited in silence, huddled close by the firelight. I took occasional, deep breaths of air. Yup, still smells like soup. And Cannoli. I heard Ravyn mutter beneath her breath, “People actually sing to civets?” I ignored it, concentrating instead on the sounds and scents of the simmering concoction.

What surprised me was when I took another deep breath and found the aroma… different. It was difficult to explain. They were the same independent smells, but now they blended together in a new way. “Is it done?”

“Not yet! Almost!”

Or I was full of shit and just desperately wanted to understand what Cannoli was talking about. My shoulders slumped.

“No, really, Matt! You’re getting the hang of it! You’re right; it’s almost there!” Cannoli’s encouragement bandaged my sullen reaction. “You smelled it! That’s great!”

“Thanks, Cannoli,” I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe I was getting the hang of it. I was a beginner, after all, compared to Cannoli’s seeming mastery of the skill. It would just take time. And what else did I have, if not time?

“Mmm. That smells so good,” Keke’s sleepy voice joined our choir. She slowly sat up and rubbed at her eyes.

Ravyn looked at Keke, then snickered. “Have a nice nap?”

Keke raised an eyebrow and yawned. “Yes, thank you.”

“Yay! It’s finished!” Cannoli announced, pulling the soup from the fire.

I was starting to see it. Cannoli’s smile when she was trying to mask how she really felt versus her true smile. They were nearly identical; it was something about her eyes.

I touched her arm, and she met my gaze. “Thank you again. Really.”

The warmth returned to her words, and she nodded. “Of course, Matt. Any time.”

“Hey! Come on! Why are you laughing at me?” Keke demanded of Ravyn.

“It doesn’t matter! Let’s eat!” Ravyn cackled.

New Notifications!

Matt has Gained: 1 Level of Cooking!

Matt’s [Energy] has been replenished!

Cannoli’s [Energy] has been replenished!

Keke’s [Energy] has been replenished!

Ravyn’s [Energy] has been replenished!