1. The Medicine

The Good Chef knew all recipes, from Branchburgers to Kinese Knibblers. But when a black-cloaked fox asked for a Snakesoup, she stood tongue-tied.

Her jaw dropped and all the pans she held between her teeth clattered to the wooden floor of her wagon. Normally, she was a quick red chimpanzee, but not when she was flabbergasted. She didn’t even notice that a pan crushed four plants from her beloved veggie patch.

The desert fox stared at her. “It’s an ancient recipe. A medicine for a grave illness.”

“S-Snakesoup? Never heard of it.”

Chef stumbled to her recipe book, which was close to falling off of the windowsill. Her paws got stuck in the pans as if they were boots. She rapidly leafed through the pages, scanning the recipes, until the fox impatiently placed her paw on the pages.

“We have no time for this. You don’t know it, but I can tell you the ingredients.”

“Impossible. My recipe book knows everything.”

The fox smelled of mud and sweat. The smell clashed with the pleasant flowery scents from her wagon, and another recipe that bubbled and fizzed in the cauldron behind her. As Chef walked passed, she quickly dipped her finger into the liquid and tasted it. Almost done. Perhaps a bit more rosemary.

What was a desert fox doing this far from Floria—this far from desert? The illness must be grave indeed, but she looked healthy as can be. Only her shadow was a bit odd, as if she secretly hid two foxes underneath her cloak.

“Is it a skin disease? Does that cloak protect you against the sun?”

The high, pointy ears of the fox bent down.

“I am Minneka, advisor of a very powerful and important being. He is ill. If you ever hear the bells ring, you’ll know he is dying. Our best healers fear this might already occur within ten days.”

She whispered. “This cloak let me reach you unseen, for this information must stay a secret at all costs.”

Snakesoup, snakesoup, snakesoup. Why didn’t she know it?

She searched her recipe book once more, but it held nothing even close to it. Who could be ill? Surely it wasn’t her king, the leader of the Primas? If he died, chaos would erupt among the ape-like creatures. They were already fighting about every little decision. And the only consequence was that the poorest animals were left without food or drink.

“So why do you need me?” asked Chef.

“The ingredients are … difficult to obtain. And nobody knows how to combine them. That part of the recipe has been lost to the ravages of time.”

Chef’s frayed tail curled and stirred the cauldron behind her, holding a wooden spoon as tall as a young tree. She felt increasingly anxious. You’re a good Chef, she told herself. You can do this. You help everyone who needs food or medicine, no matter how hard it is.

She studied the desert fox from head to toe. Minneka indeed postured royally. Head high, chest forward, and a cloak made of the finest silk she ever laid eyes on.

She asked the question in a scared, squeaky voice. “Is it the king of the Primas? Is he ill?”

“No.” Minneka impatiently tapped the wooden doorframe of Chef’s wagon. “We have little time. They told me you were the best, that you helped all who sought aid. Will you do it or not?”

“Erm, erm, yes, yes, of course.”

Chef waved two gigantic leaves to extinguish the fire below her cauldron. The liquid inside had risen to the edge … but she had just prevented it from boiling over.

A deep sigh escaped. The entire wagon now smelled of what she’d made: a simple vegetable soup to distribute to the poor in Heroeshaven.

When Floria suddenly rose from the sea, everyone fled to the harbor cities. Everyone wanted to visit the desert. Everyone wanted to quickly snatch a piece of land for themselves. But Heroeshaven hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t prepared, which was why thousands of its inhabitants were now without food.

Around the same time, Companions and Demigods disappeared left and right. Because Anniwe, the King of Lions, had never been seen again, the Lion Dynasty was almost extinct. A second reason why thousands of animals were without food.

Chef’s own stomach growled, but that wasn’t important now.

“Can we visit Heroeshaven first? I have to—”

“No!” Minneka yelled. Briefly, she lost her formal and composed speech. “My apologies, that was improper.”

She pulled her cloak tighter and left the wagon. An odd sight in the hot afternoon sun.

“We have until the bells ring. No distraction, no detours.”

Sometimes, dear reader, I am disappointed in my own little beings. If she had just stated WHO was gravely ill, if everyone had been more honest with each other, this story might have ended differently.

Chef’s shortened right paw, with a stump at the end, closed the recipe book. Dust blew into her nostrils and brought a damp smell. She’d never experienced this: the book had always held all the answers, to everything. She was afraid to make a mistake—but she was mostly deadly curious about this unknown, ancient recipe.

“What ingredients do you need?”

“Stalks from the Bumpbaracht. As many seeds as possible from a Dinodear. Leaves from the Turnbacktulip. And, unfortunately, the sap of the Fishfool.”

An odd list. But Chef’s mind, filled with cooking experience, immediately felt the recipe was right. Bumpbarachts were often used to give something a nicer smell or taste. The Dinodear soothed pain and helped heal wounds. The Turnbacktulip turned back viruses and the Fishfool strengthened bodily fluids, such as blood.

It sounded like a good medicine. Unfortunately, all those ingredients were very hard to get.

Minneka stood next to her wagon and looked inside defiantly. “Let me guess, you have to travel by wagon?”

“Of course! Just wait, my sweet Wagoney is much faster than you think!”

Minneka sighed and elegantly jumped back inside through the window. Her paws briefly touched the recipe book, which opened itself, exactly on the page explaining Bumpbarachts. Minneka looked astonished and pulled back as if her paw received a shock.

Chef was used to the weird behavior of her book and shrugged.

She walked to the front wheels and pulled on a wooden stick. The wagon’s brakes disengaged. Because they stood at the start of the Impossible Wall, the road sloped downwards slightly and made the wagon roll on its own. If they continued rolling like this, they’d pass through the Second Throne of Darus, and reach Heroeshaven in a few days.

With pain in her heart, she said goodbye to that plan. All she could do was leave behind the food where she was.

She pulled several brown-red jars from a crate and filled them with her vegetable soup. Minneka was kind enough to place them in the grass along the road, her body hanging halfway out the window, as the wagon sped up.

Chef decided that Minneka wasn’t a bad person—just very scared that they’d be too late to save her very important being.

She studied the pages in her Recipebook.

“Bumpbarachts,” she read aloud. “Can only be found in the Strawberry Forest. Animal-shy. Will pull back when they notice any movement nearby, and therefore prefer to grow in unreachable places.”

The book sketched images next to the description. A dark cave, the foliage of a giant tree, and a monstrous creature who seemed to guard the plants.