Solma feels Habu’s hand slip from hers as she lengthens her stride. She turns to see him sprawl in the leaf litter, a flash-memory of that chase from the village beyond the Earthroot Mountains streaking across her vision.
“Warren—” she says, before catching herself. “Up you get, Habu.”
Habu’s already up, face full of grim determination.
“Wait!” he calls suddenly. “I need to plant a seed!”
Solma skids to a halt as Habu kneels, presses a seed into the earth and Whispers. The honeybees circle impatiently. One lands on Solma’s shoulder and starts dancing.
“I know, little one,” Solma says.
Habu springs up, a young sunflower now ready to bloom in the spot where he’d been kneeling.
“Let’s go!”
They race off again and the bees zoom ahead, doubling back to check the humans are following. So
