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Title: Detective Narinder and The Case of The

Summary:Leshy is accused of poisoning The Lamb's husband, and it's up to Narinder to prove his brother's innocence before times runs out!

Rating:T for mild swearing.

Content Warning: N/ A

Ships: N/A

Read on Ao3

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Narinder should have been less excited than he was to hear "Leshy is going to die!", but a thousand years of wishing his little brother dead had left him with many habits he was still trying to break.

A small crowd gathered around the pillory. Narinder elbowed his way through the lookie-loos to the front only to find his brother thrashing like a wild beast against his restraints.

Leshy dug his feet into the earth, kicking back clods of dirt. His tail beat against the ground, leaving craters. It was almost funny watching Leshy trapped by a few simple planks of wood and hinges. When he was a god, Leshy could destroy massive trees with ease.

"I didn't do anything! Lemme out! Lemme out! Lemme out!" He screamed, his branches scraping against the wood of the pillory as he tried to pull his head through.

In front of him, The Lamb loomed. Their eyes burned with fury. Their sharpen teeth gnashed together. The Lamb's usually tiny horns grew like sharpened spikes.

A lesser follower would have been scared, but not Narinder.

Nor Leshy, for that matter, since he couldn't see The Lamb's threatening display.

"Shut up and tell the truth! What did you give him?" The Lamb spat as they grabbed Leshy's chin and jerked his head up.

"I told you I didn't do anything!" Leshy snapped, the brows above his bandage furrowing down in anger.

Before The Lamb could respond, Narinder left the crowd. He tapped The Lamb on the shoulder. He kept his muscles tensed and ready, just in case he needed to leap away from the irate godling.

"What is going on?" He asked in an aloof tone.

The Lamb spun around. They jabbed a finger at Leshy. "Your brother poisoned my husband!"

Narinder's ears perked up. Husband? Oh, how Narinder prayed it was Bathin. If so, hopefully it was a particularly noxious poison that left him writhing in pain. Narinder could not stand that prick—

"Tusken is in the healing bay sick right now!"

Narinder frowned. Much of his sudden interest in whatever sin Leshy committed waned.

"How do you know Leshy did it?" Narinder asked.

The Lamb groaned, as if retelling the events was too much for them.

"I know because Tusken fell down and became ill after drinking. Leshy was the bartender."

Narinder cocked his head to the side. "How do you know he got sick from a drink? He could have eaten something." Narinder didn't know much about The Lamb's husband, Tusken, nor did he care to, but he was aware that on at least a few occasions Tusken indulged in coprophilia. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if Tusken ate literal shit and ended up sick.

The Lamb glared at Narinder, as if he was in the wrong for asking. "Tusken eats once a day, mid-afternoon, and he eats the same berry bowl that I make him every day. He could not have gotten sick from that. Unlike some people, I don't hurt the ones I love."

Narinder's tail lashed at the insult towards him.

He could point out that wasn't true. The Lamb had sacrificed a spouse before they usurped his crown.

He could walk away and say to hell with it all. Leshy was an adult, and Narinder wasn't his keeper.

He should do either of those, but that insult cut a little too deep.

He stepped between The Lamb and his brother. After sending a glower to The Lamb, he crouched down, facing Leshy.

"Leshy, answer me honestly, did you poison anyone today?" Narinder made sure his question was vague so Leshy had some wiggle room in how he answered. If Leshy tried to poison someone else, but Tusken ended up with the drink, that would cool some of the Lamb's rage if Leshy owned up to it.

Leshy scowled. "No, I didn't. Sure, I've tricked people into eating gross shit before as a joke, but I always brag about it afterward. You know that, Narinder."

Narinder conceded this fact with a nod he knew Leshy couldn't see. The idea of Leshy poisoning someone seemed weird enough. That was not how Leshy dispatched people he didn't like. He was a very forward person when it came to murder—a quick beheading, tearing out innards with his teeth, or crushing a body into a bloody paste—but poison was a more underhand and sneaky way to kill.

Narinder could see Kallamar employing poisons, Shamura, too, and maybe even Heket in a pinch, but not Leshy.

"He said he didn't," Narinder told The Lamb with a half shrug. "If you're so sure he did, read his mind." He knew having one's mind probed was an uncomfortable feeling, but it would give a fairly quick answer if Leshy was lying or not.

Both The Lamb and Leshy cringed.

"Have you ever been inside his mind?" They asked. "It's pure chaos in there. He can't focus on one thing for two seconds without jumping to another thought. Trying to untangle what he is thinking on a deeper level is nearly impossible."

Leshy snorted triumphantly and started to laugh, but Narinder threw a handful of grass and dirt into his mouth to keep him quiet.

As Leshy sputtered, Narinder rocked back up to his feet. He brushed some grass from his robes as he spoke, "If I can prove he didn't do it, will you let him go?"

The Lamb took a step back, startled by the kind, brotherly offer from the usually standoffish cat.

"I suppose," they relented, "but you have until tonight—unless Tusken dies first. I'll have my retribution if my husband dies from his poison." They held out their hand.

Narinder took the hand and shook. "Hopefully, you keep your end of our deal this time."

With a dismissive sniff, The Lamb spun around to leave. "You have about eight hours. Prove him innocent or…" they trailed off, waving their hand. To the rest of the gathered crowd, they barked, "Get back to work." and instantly set the onlookers scattering away.

"I can solve this, you stupid ungulate," Narinder huffed, more to himself than the retreating figure of The Lamb. He leaned against one of the pillars of the pillory and said, "Tell me what happened."

"I didn't do it," Leshy growled. He opened his mouth, but must have thought better of what he wanted to say and shut it. He sighed, slumping against the wood.

"I didn't do it. Really, I didn't," Leshy said. "I like working the tavern, Nari. It's fun. I like talking with people. I like mixing drinks. I know which bottles have what in them with just a smell and can tell when the glass is full by ear. I might spit in a drink every now and again, but I would not poison one. You have to believe me! "

"I do." Narinder reached behind the pillory and patted his back. "I doubt that you've changed so much in our years apart that you would find slipping poison in a drink all that fun."

Especially if he couldn't see the reaction first hand, but Narinder kept that to himself.

Leshy laughed. "You're right about that, which is why I was just as surprised as everyone else when that old turtle started freaking out."

"What do you mean 'freaking out'?"

Leshy twisted his mouth up as he thought. "He slammed his hand on the counter and yelled 'it's burning! It hurt!'" Leshy pitched down his voice and added a quaver to it as he quoted. "'I can't breathe. Someone help—' and then he fell over, I guess. People started screaming. Someone went to get The Lamb, and before I knew what happened, the tavern was closed, and I was in here." He waved his trapped hands around for emphasis.

"Burning and trouble breathing?" Narinder mumbled. He could think of a few things that would cause that.

Narinder almost wished Kallamar was there, but The Lamb had just barely started crusading through Anura to free Heket's soul. He didn't have time to wait for snooty Kallamar to offer advice.

He shook his head. "Can you think of anything else?"

"Ah, no, I—Oh! Right, Tusken ordered a juniper drink. I don't know if that is what he drank, but that's what I made him."

Narinder pushed himself away from the pillory.

"Alright then. I'll get started solving this and saving your sorry ass."

Narinder took a breath and walked away. He only had a few hours to figure out who the real poisoner was—if there was one at all—but he knew he couldn't do it alone.

Astaroth looked up from the book she was reading. She shut it and smiled at Narinder as he neared.

"I'm not done with it yet." She laughed. "I can indulge you in cheesy romance novel talk once I've finished." She tapped her blue-tipped fingers against the cover of The Lion-heart and His Love, a novel Narinder had lent her from his own collection.

While he was excited to discuss her take on the second born prince's attempt at usurping his brother's right to the throne, while rescuing his betrothed back from the pirates who kidnapped her, that could wait.

"I need your help. The Lamb thinks Leshy poisoned their husband—"

"Was it Bathin? Is he okay?" Astaroth jumped up.

"Unfortunately, no, your terrible brother is alright. It was Tusken."

The worry left Astaroth's face when she knew her no-good jerkwad of a brother was not the one poisoned. Narinder cringed but let it go.

"As I was saying," he continued, "The Lamb thinks Leshy poisoned Tusken, but I'm certain he didn't, so I'm investigating to find the truth. I would appreciate your help. At the very least, you make for good company."

Astaroth pursed her lips and hummed noncommittally.

"Do you have anything better to do today? Besides finish The Lion-heart and His Love?"

"No, not really," she admitted, pushing her bookmark farther into the book. "Alright, fine. Lemme run the book to my shelter then I'll help you. Where do we start?"

Narinder jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "The tavern. If there is poison, it is probably still there."

The tavern was ghostly silent. Even the bell by the closed sign stayed quiet upon their approach despite the breeze. Careful to step over a puddle of drying puke, Narinder ran his hands over the smooth, worn wood of the countertop. Some half-finished drinks abandoned by the patrons, presumably when Tusken collapsed, stood silent vigil for their long-gone owners to return.

One drink, however, laid on its side. Most of the pink liquid had spilled and stained the bar.

Narinder looked to the remaining drinks then back. It was the only juniper drink there. It had to be the one Leshy served Tusken. Pulling his sleeve over his hand, he carefully picked up the drink. With his other hand, he waved the smell of it to his nose.

Astaroth leaned over his shoulder. "Is there anything iffy about it?"

He shrugged and held it to her. "I have no idea. It smells like berries and grass to me."

Astaroth waved the glass away. "I drink bog brew, not that fruity stuff, so I wouldn't know what it is supposed to smell like."

Narinder drank fruit elixir, so he wasn't sure either. He held the glass up to the light and swirled the little bit of drink left. Bits of crushed and cut up red berries spun in the liquid. A few small seeds clicked against the glass.

He frowned and set down the glass as Astaroth walked behind the bar. She paused, looking at her feet, before picking up Leshy's cane from the dirt.

He must have dropped it when he was dragged away. She held it to Narinder. He took it and ran his hands over the carvings of vines and leaves on the handle before setting it on the counter.

Astaroth hummed to herself while she examined the bottles and ingredients.

"Anything poisonous?" Narinder asked.

"No, I don't think so." She popped the cork from a bottle and sniffed it. "Looks like it's just nectar and the usual—Oh?"

"Oh?" Narinder leaned over the bar.

Astaroth pulled a small basket and set it in her lap. The basket had several flowers, fresh and dried, piled inside and a slip of paper folded on top. Astaroth took the paper and opened it. She chuckled.

"'To Mr. Leshy. Thank you for playing with us. Please play with us again soon. From Sparky and Len Jr." She handed the note up to Narinder. Along with the words were drawings of flowers and hearts and smiling faces. The crayon had been pressed hard into the paper so the words and pictures left indents and lines.

Sparky and Len Jr. were two of the children that started hanging around Leshy after The Lamb dragged him back from purgatory. It was not surprising someone as immature as Leshy would have children flock to him, but these two in particular seemed glued to his side.

They followed him around with balls and toys in their hands, begging for attention. They pestered him for stories to the point Leshy had to demand The Lamb step in and tell the two to give him space, or else Leshy would teach the children every slur and swear he knew.

The younger of the two, Len Jr., even went against her mother's orders to stay away from Leshy and his bad influence. Even without his Crown, the draw to Leshy's chaotic and wild personality was just too strong for some people.

Astaroth examined the flowers in the basket. She mumbled to herself as she picked through them, "It's mostly pansies and camellias, some clovers, but nothing poisonous."

She returned the basket and stood. "Well, what now?"

Narinder chewed the inside of his cheek. They might as well talk to Tusken, just in case he actually did die and they couldn't get any more information out of him—not that it matter, of course. If Tusken died, Leshy was good as gone, too.

He suppressed a shutter at the thought. If Leshy died, Heket would throw a fit when she was brought to the cult's grounds. He could almost hear her cussing him out and telling him what a terrible brother he was.

As Narinder opened his mouth to suggest the healing bay, his stomach growled.

The two investigators took the long way to the healing bay, so they could swing by the kitchen. Just because they were on a time limit didn't mean they had to look for clues on empty stomachs. Narinder wouldn't allow such a thing.

The kitchen staff bustled about, kneading dough and chopping vegetables to prepare for the evening's meal.

Outside the busy kitchen, Amdusias stood with his daughter, Len Jr, and lover, Lena.

Narinder cringed. Lena was the other head disciple in the cult. Unlike Narinder, who put his dedication and loyalty into The Red Crown itself, Lena fell for The Lamb's lies of their chosen divinity and worshiped that traitorous ball of wool.

The shrew ruled the kitchen with an iron ladle, and was a massive bitch, in Narinder's humble—and correct—opinion.

"Were you messing around near the berry bushes?" Lena asked, her whiskers twitching in annoyance. "I told you, there are stinging nettles there. This looks like it just happened, too."

Narinder put a hand out to stop Astaroth. He gestured at the family with a small tilt of his head.

"No, I wasn't," Len Jr. grumbled, scratching at her palm.

"Well, now one of us has to take you to the healing bay for that rash, sweetie." Amdusias shook his head. "Even though we both have work to do. You need to listen to your mother."

"I'm fine!" She whined back. "Sparky is going to go by the leaky fountain and get some mud. Mr. Leshy says mud fixes everything."

Amdusias flinched as Lena bristle beside him. She gritted her teeth as she seethed.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him. He is a bad influence on everyone here, and I don't like him." Lena gripped her hands into fists, shooting an accusing look at Amdusias. "Are you letting her play with him when you're not around?"

Amdusias tugged at the thick, wiry fur on his arms as he began to defend, "He's not that bad—"

Astaroth stepped forward. "Did I hear something about a healing bay?" She interrupted. "Narinder and I were just heading there to check something."

Len Jr. held up her hand, palm facing Astaroth and Narinder. There was a red rash patch with small blisters across her palm.

"Oh dear, that looks painful," Astaroth frowned, "but I'm sure there is a salve in the healing bay that can help. I think I might know where just the one you need is, actually."

At Lena's questioning raised brow, Astaroth explained, "I needed it when I accidentally stung Agares a little while ago." She brushed her fingers over the big, red ribbon she used to hold back the stinging tentacles on her head.

Len Jr. pouted.

Narinder wondered how much Leshy had talked up the healing power of mud.

"Actually," Amdusias chimed in before Lena could refuse, "that sounds like a great idea!" He put a claw on his lover's shoulder and squeezed gently. "I have a bunch of work I need to finish at the refinery, and I know you don't trust all those people to get dinner done on their own."

He waved towards the kitchen, and, as if on queue, the sounds of clattering wood, smashing ceramics, and swearing came from inside.

Lena cringed. She looked at her daughter, then her lover, then to Narinder and Astaroth. Heaving a sigh, she nodded.

"Alright. Take her, Astaroth. Thank you."

Narinder noted the distinct lack of his name.

As Lena hurried back to the kitchen, shouting orders, Amdusias sighed in relief.

"Thanks a bunch," he said, and patted Len Jr. on the head between her tiny horns and ears. "Now go on with Ms. Astaroth and don't cause trouble."

Len Jr.'s lower lip stayed stuck out, but she took Astaroth's hand nonetheless.

With a chipper attitude, Astaroth led Len Jr. away, talking about how the healing bay always had something to help any 'ouchies' Len Jr. might get. Narinder began to follow when Amdusias tapped his shoulder.

"You're investigating what happened at the tavern, right, Mr., err, Disciple Narinder?" Amdusias stood with his spine ramrod straight and his eyes looking ever so slightly to the side away from Narinder's face.

Amdusias had been Leshy's follower before the Lamb swooped in and stole him early on in their role as a vessel. When around his former leader, Amdusias didn't act with any reverence, but around Narinder, he showed more respect.

Narinder wasn't sure if seeing his godly power in The Gateway scared respect into Amdusias or if he retained some of the Lamb's early teachings about Narinder's glory, before they pivoted to preaching their own.

He hoped it was the former.

"I am. Why? Do you have some information?"

Amdusias chewed his lip. He glanced back at the kitchen then to Narinder.

"Leshy didn't do it. He couldn't have."

Narinder raised a brow for him to go on.

"The refinery crew takes a break about noon to get drinks and food before heading back, sometimes, so I was with Leshy as he made the drinks today. He didn't put anything in them.

"You had your eyes on him the whole time?" Narinder tensed. Could this be the testimony he needed to prove Leshy's innocence?

Amdusias twiddled his claws and bowed his head. "Well, no, not the whole time, but most of it. Only when the thing with the ball happened did I ever look away."

Before Narinder could inquire more about 'the thing with the ball', Lena called. She jogged up, holding something that smelled yeasty and delicious.

"Here." She handed the cloth-wrapped bread to Narinder. "It's a 'thank you' to Astaroth for taking Len Jr. Give it to her."

Narinder narrowed his eyes. He was also taking that kid to the healing bay, or had Lena not realized that? He deserved a little recognition for his kindness, too, so he decided the moment Lena's back was turned he was going to take half of the snack. He and Astaroth had come here for something to eat, after all.

To Amdusias, she said, "Shouldn't you head back to the refinery?"

He jumped and laughed nervously. "I am. I am. I just wanted to ask Disciple Narinder if he knew if The Lamb was holding a sermon today or not. You know, with Tusken down and all…"

Lena eyed him but nodded in approval before she shooed both men off to their respective duties.

Narinder caught up with Astaroth and Len Jr. when they were half way to the healing bay. Astaroth nodded absentmindedly to Lena Jr.'s babbling. He held out the other slice of thick, warm bread for Astaroth as he swallowed the last of his own.

As she took it, Len Jr. turned her attention to Narinder.

"Have you seen the nice mud, Disciple Narinder? Mr. Leshy says that good quality mud can cure just about anything. I'm sure if we had waited for Sparky to come with some, my hand would already be better now." She nodded sagely, as if Narinder couldn't possibly know anything about mud. "Mr. Leshy even said he would show me and Sparky were the best mud on the grounds is once he was done with all his grown-up work stuff."

Wiping the crumbs off his robes, Narinder told her, "When Leshy says mud cures all, he means you're supposed to eat it, you know. "

That was only half a lie. Narinder had seen Leshy wallow in the mud when he was feeling depressed, and he had seen him eat it when he was feeling sick.

Narinder held back a smile as he recalled the time Kallamar caught Leshy sticking a handful of mud into his mouth to "cure" a stomachache caused by eating meat well past its prime. Their older brother held Leshy by the tail and shook him until Leshy spat out the mouthful of mud—then vomited the contents of his upset stomach.

Len Jr., however, looked horrified at the thought of putting the mud inside her mouth.

Narinder smirked. "Your father is a worm like Leshy. Maybe you'll like it."

"Nari, stop that. I know you are feeling some sort of way, but picking on a little kid isn't the answer," Astaroth chided. "Besides, she is half worm. She would only half like it."

As the two adults shared a laugh, Len Jr. shook her head. In a very serious voice she said, "You two are not very funny. Not like Mr. Leshy." Dropping the tone, she began to prattle on about Leshy promising to tell her and Sparky more stories about his greatest pranks next time he was free.

The strong scent of flowers filled Narinder's nose. He cringed as the flap to the healing bay opened so the smell of sick overwhelming the flowers. His cringe soured into a scowl as Bathin stepped out.

Bathin blinked his large, froggy eyes against the sun before he noticed the group in front of him.

"Well, what are you doing here, Azzy, Little Len?" He greeted, completely ignoring Narinder.

Narinder bristled. He couldn't stand Bathin with his stupid, lumpy face and stupid kissable mouth and stupid, kind voice and stupid, handsome body. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted metal to focus his mind before any more positive thoughts about Bathin crept in.

The two of them had dated for less than a decade! That was nothing—merely a blink in the lifetimes they both had lived—and yet Narinder still felt his gut twist in anger about their break up.

If only Bathin had the brains to realize that Narinder was the superior love of his life, maybe Narinder and Bathin would still be together. But no, Bathin had to choose his marriage to that blasted usurper over Narinder's love—a sin Narinder could never allow to pass.

Len Jr. shoved her hand in Bathin's face. "I gotta rash."

"Oh, you sure do." Bathin backed away.

"She touched stinging nettles," Astaroth supplied.

Bathin held up his arm and pointed to a dark patch with pale bumps on the inside of his lower arm. There was a sheen from drying salve across it. "What a coincidence! So did I. From the berry patch, right?"

Len Jr. shook her head. "I didn't touch stinging nettles."

Before Bathin could reply, Narinder stepped forward into Bathin's personal space. He glared down at him.

"Stinging nettles? Why were you messing with stinging nettles?"

Wrinkling his face with disgust Bathin snapped, "I wasn't messing with them. I brushed against them while I was weeding. Unlike some people, I work and contribute to this place."

"What are you implying?" Narinder demanded in a low, threatening tone.

"Just that some folks are lazy cats who sleep all day and don't pull their weight." Bathin stabbed Narinder in the chest with a finger.

Narinder gritted his teeth. It took every ounce of his self control not to take a well deserved swing at Bathin. Narinder was pulling more than his weight already.

Bathin wasn't solving a crime, now was he? No, he wasn't! He was just pulling weeds. Any fool could do that.

Astaroth shouldered her way between them, forcing the two to take a step away from each other. She held up her hands to keep them from closing the gap again.

"Narinder, we are too busy with our mission right now for you to pick a fight."

Narinder scoffed. If Shamura had taught him anything, it was that there was always time for a fight to protect one's honor, but one glance at the sun lowering itself in the sky made him push aside that lesson.

Narinder stepped around Astaroth. He only shouldered Bathin to the side instead of striking him in his stupid froggy mouth.

Bathin rubbed his arm, shooting daggers at Narinder. "I have to give The Lamb an update on Tusken. See you, Azzy." Under his breath he muttered, "Couldn't finish my drink. Was forced to take care of Tusken. Had to deal with Narinder…this day stinks…"

Narinder held his sleeve up to his nose as he entered the healing bay. The stench of sick and sweat overpowered the usual smell of drying herbs and beeswax salves.

On one side of the room, Tusken lay groaning on a low cot, a woolen blanket tangled around his legs, surrounded by fresh cut camellia flowers. On the other side sat a table with gauze, an open salve jar, and a shallow basin of water with a dirty cloth haphazardly tossed into it. The cabinet under the table had been left half open, exposing amber colored bottles, tins of lotions and salves, and more rags to the light.

Narinder headed towards the old turtle as Astaroth took Len Jr. to the table to find something to help with her rash.

Dried vomit stuck to Tusken's beak and chin. Sweat drenched his shirt and skin. His sunken in eyes peaked open to glance at Narinder. The sheen on his milky blind eye would have made a lesser being tremble when Tusken fixed his gaze on him, but a sickly, old man did not even rank among the most horrific things Narinder had seen in his long life.

"Ah, lookie here," Tusken rasped, "death has come to visit little old me. Is it my time to go now? I would have liked to see my lovely spouse one more time though….Wait," he smirked, "I forgot, my spouse is death now, ain't they?"

Narinder clenched his hands once and took a breath. Tusken had been among the followers Narinder imprisoned when The Lamb finally freed him from his chains, so, like Amdusias, Tusken also bore witness the battle for The Red Crown.

Unlike better people, however, Tusken hadn't let Narinder attempting to kill The Lamb then sacrifice half their followers to himself go.

It was incredibly petty, honestly.

Narinder explained, "We are investigating what happened."

"We?" Tusken craned his neck to see past Narinder. "You, Azzy, and a little kid?"

Astaroth had taken the salve off the table and sniffed it. She nodded before handing it to Len Jr.. The child turned the jar side-to-side before digging her stubby, dirty fingers into the smooth, yellowish salve.

"Just tell me what happened, Tusken." Narinder stepped in front of his line of sight.

Tusken ignored him, scooting farther up the cot. He fixed his gaze on Len Jr., screwing up his expression.

"Girl, ain't you—"

Tusken's face flushed. With a gasp, he doubled over the side of the cot and vomited onto the floor. Narinder jumped back, barely avoiding watery bile.

Len Jr. whimpered. She held the jar to her chest before turning to flee out of the healing bay. Astaroth tried to grab her arm, but the child was too fast.

While Tusken wheezed and panted, Astaroth took the cloth from the water basin. She rung it out before offering it to Narinder. He cringed, grabbed the cloth with finger and thumb, then dropped it on Tusken's lap.

Tusken used the rag to wipe his mouth before slumping down.

Narinder kicked some dirt towards the pile of vomit as he spoke. "If you're done, tell us what happened at the tavern."

Tusken scoffed. "Sure, I'll tell you, you sadist. I was minding my own business at the tavern, talking with the folks day-drinking on their lunch break from the refinery. I ordered a juniper drink like I always do. I drank it, then my throat started burning like hell, I puked my guts out, and it's all your stupid little brother's fault."

"Leshy didn't do anything," Narinder snapped.

"'course he didn't." Tusken rolled his eyes. "He should be lucky I'm too tough to die from something like this." He beat his chest with his fist. "I'll be better by tomorrow, I'm sure."

Astaroth asked, "Did the drink taste different than normal at all? Maybe you ate something else and that caused you to get sick."

"I didn't eat anything else today but a beet I pulled from the garden," Tusken replied, rubbing his chin. "But now that I think about it, the berries in the drink were different than normal. More…glossy?" He furrowed his brow. "And there were more than there usually is."

"I don't drink that type of thing, what do you mean more than normal?" Narinder questioned.

Tusken shrugged. "Juniper drinks have a lot of crushed berries in 'em—it's why I like it so much—but this drink had crushed berries and some that were only cut up. I figured Leshy got distracted when the bell fell down and didn't finish, so I drank it then ate the cut-up ones."

"Bell?" Astaroth cocked her head to the side. Narinder stood up straighter. Could this also have to do with the ball situation that Amdusias mentioned?

"Yeah, the whole refinery crew popped over for a drink just before I got there, like I said, and Amdusias' little kid was there with that other youngin', what's his face, the, ah, scruffy pink puppy—Speckle or something? Well, those two where playing with this ball and one of 'em threw it at the bell under the tavern sign. Broke the damned thing right off!" He shook his head. "Those refinery folks ain't the brightest souls. It took 'em a bit to get the bell back up, but even then they couldn't get the clapper back inside."

Narinder chewed the inside of his lip in thought. If everyone was distracted with the bell, anyone could have slipped something into Tusken's drink. Leshy isn't the only suspect. Maybe with this information, The Lamb might give Narinder more time to investigate.

Tusken raised his hands up. "Why, when I was head of the refinery, I made sure I got only those with good heads on their shoulders! The stone blocks from my refinery were the highest quality and always perfect right angles! You know—"

"Tusken!" The Lamb burst in through the door flap. Bathin peeked in behind them with a cringe. They paused at the sight of Narinder and Astaroth. Astaroth bowed at the waist to The Lamb and stepped aside. Narinder rolled his eyes, but also move out of the way.

The Lamb hurried to Tusken's bedside. Before Tusken or Astaroth could warn them, they slid to their knees right into the puddle of vomit. Narinder snorted to himself, suddenly feeling like fate might still like him a little.

"I am sorry," Tusken muttered.

The Lamb forced a smile. "I've been waist-deep in the ichor-filled guts of ancient gods. This is nothing." They took his hand and kissed his knuckles. "How are you feeling? Better? Bathin said you were better. Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable, my dear and darling love?"

Both Narinder and Bathin gagged at the display of sappy affection.

"I'm leaving, " Narinder announced, cutting off whatever Tusken was about to reply with. Without another word, he turned on his heels and marched towards the door.

As he passed, Bathin mumbled, "Lucky." and Narinder almost felt bad that Bathin had to watch his spouse coo and fawn over his rival—almost.

Narinder had made it a quarter of the way across the grounds to the farms before The Lamb and Astaroth caught up with him. The Lamb grabbed his sleeve and forced him to stop.

"Let me go." He yanked his sleeve free. "Unless you're here to apologize for accusing Leshy, I don't have time to waste playing with you, damned lamb."

The Lamb frowned at him. "Leshy did it. I know he did."

"He did not!" Narinder shouted, rage bubbling up in his stomach. "Did you know about the bell? There was a time everyone was distracted by the bell breaking. Anyone could have slipped something into the drink. You should go check with the entire refinery crew! Throw them in prison until one of them confesses!"

Astaroth put a hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him back. "They already did. I asked them about it after you left." She shook her head. "No one there would know how to hide their thoughts from a god, Narinder. They couldn't be lying."

"One of them is!" Narinder shrugged her off with a glare. How could she side with The Lamb? Just because they were her god? She was older than even Shamura and had seen the greatest sins of the lands. Astaroth should know better than to believe what a Crown bearer says without some level of skepticism.

"I'm sorry," Astaroth frowned, "but it has to have been Leshy. He lied to you."

"Listen," The Lamb sent a placating smile to him, "Plimbo, my, ah, merchant friend, sold me a bunch of plant seeds and seedlings that grow really weird-looking plants. They're by the fountain right now. And if they haven't gone to seed, we can decorate Leshy's grave with them. He'd like that. There is even this maroon-and-white striped one that looks like its wearing a pointy collar called jack-in-the-pulpit and one that looks like it has a mouth that eats bugs called a Venus—"

A snarl rose up Narinder's throat as his fur bristled. "Stop wasting my brother's time, both of you." With that, he storming off alone towards the garden.

His temper hadn't cooled a bit by the time Narinder came to the garden. Most of the days work had been finished before the heat of the afternoon. A few of the more die-hard gardeners lingered, checking their prized crops for pests. He walked up to one, that little black-and-white bear with an accent from the land across the ocean.

"Where are the stinging nettles?" He demanded to know.

The bear blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

He gritted his teeth. He did not have time to deal with this numskull. "The stinging nettles. Which berry bush are they in?"

The bear stood, wiping off his robes. He pointed towards a patch of berries near the edge of the garden. Narinder started towards them when the bear said, "They were over there, but they're not anymore."

"Then where are they?" Narinder looked over his shoulder, tail flicking in annoyance.

This time the bear pointed towards a bone and metal brazier that stood between two offering alters. "We pulled them out and burned them after Witness Bathin touched them."

Narinder groaned. It wasn't like he expected to find a note the poisoner left of their plan at the stinging nettles roots, but he had hoped maybe the nettles would give him some sort of clue.

He needed to find something to save Leshy and prove to that annoying usurper he did care about the people he loved. Maybe he could hurry to the refinery and start asking questions. The Lamb was a fool, after all. They could have easily underestimated their followers' ability to hide their thoughts.

Or maybe the culprit was Bathin.

Bathin had said he couldn't finish his drink today when he left, so he must have been at the tavern at the time of the poisoning. Bathin hated Tusken for taking The Lamb's attention away from him.

Would Bathin have been clever enough to keep a few of the stinging nettle leaves on him until he had the opportunity to put them in Tusken's food or drink? Bathin's stinging nettle rash was only on his arm, not his hands, though. If he had put the leaves in the drink, he would have needed gloves, something surely at least one person would have noticed him wearing or putting on beforehand.

Narinder wasn't even totally sure unprocessed stinging nettles were the poison. Tusken never mentioned anything unusual about the drink but the berries. He did not say there was extra greenery in it.

Narinder rubbed the creases between his furrowed brows, trying to figure out what he needed to do. There was something missing, a single piece of the puzzle. If he just had that clue, he could figure out the bigger picture. He felt it in his gut.

If only Shamura was here. They would have this solved. Leshy would be safe by now, and Narinder would be rubbing his victory in that sheep's face.

"I'm sorry." The bear wrung his hands together. "Did you want to use them for soup or something? If I had known, I wouldn't have had them burned yesterday."

Narinder's head snapped up. "What did you say?"

"That I'm sorry? I would have saved them for you if I knew you wanted them."

"No, after that. You burned the nettles yesterday?"

The bear—was his name Stinky?—nodded. "Yesterday morning. Witness Bathin got into them right when we started work early in the morning, so while he headed to the healing bay for some salve, I used gloves and pulled them all out before anyone else could get hurt."

Narinder's eyes grew wide as the final piece fell into place. If he was right—and, of course, he had to be—then he knew exactly what happened!

Shouting a 'thank you!' to Stinky, Narinder dashed away to find his culprit.

The Lamb tapped their hoof against the ground as they waited. The sun hung low in the sky, bathing the horizon in pinks and oranges. They told Narinder he had until sunset to find out who poisoned Tusken, and he was nearly out of time.

Not that it mattered. The poisoner was stuck in the pillory to The Lamb's left already.

Leshy slumped against the head and arm holes.

After checking in with Tusken several times over the course of the afternoon, The Lamb was certain their husband wasn't going to die. His condition had stabilized considerably. He was able to keep broth down now and was in high spirits. Last time The Lamb visited him, he had babbled on about how well run the refinery used to be under his care.

While they were certain he was going to pull through, they couldn't let anyone, let alone an ex-Bishop, get away with poisoning their beloved husband. Maybe they wouldn't kill Leshy, just maim him a little and leave him hung up like a living scarecrow for a few days.

Or maybe they would ask Bathin for his opinion for a punishment. He deserved a reward for treating Tusken so well while on his healing bay shift despite not liking him, and being involved in such an important decision would make him feel special.

To the right of the pillory, Astaroth rocked on her heels. She had been down ever since Narinder snapped at her. After he stormed off, Astaroth herself had gone to the refinery to ask around, but like The Lamb before her, she had found no evidence of any wrongdoings by the refinery crew.

"Hey, Lamb," Leshy started, "are you going to be able to kill me properly this time? I won't be stuck rotting and suffering in purgatory for three hundred years again, will I?"

The Lamb was about to kick dust into Leshy's face when yelling stole their attention away from the poisoner.

Narinder jogged up, his face beaming with sweat and triumph. He held something wrapped in a cloth in one hand. The edges of his sleeves and hems of his robes were wet and muddy.

"I know what happened! I have the culprit!" He proclaimed.

The Lamb raised an eyebrow. "And where are they?"

Narinder waved his free hand behind him. "They're coming. I promised them a chance to get their affairs in order before coming to talk to you. Don't you worry, but let me explain what happened while we wait."

The Lamb rolled their eyes. He was stalling. Great…

At least, there was a silver lining The Lamb could acknowledge. Narinder really did care about his little brother. There was no other reason he would have gone so far out of his way like this otherwise.

They chalked it up as another reason to probably not kill Leshy.

Astaroth stepped forward. "Narinder, please, this isn't necessary—"

"Silence, nonbeliever!" He snapped, jabbing a finger at her. "Leshy did nothing wrong this time! Now, let me explain."

Astaroth shook her head with a frown at her friend's delusional state. The Lamb rolled their wrist to encourage Narinder to continue.

"Alright, first, what happened to your dear husband, Tusken. He was poisoned. This is a fact, but who and what poisoned him?" Narinder held up a finger. "The answer to the latter is simple. At first, I thought it was the stinging nettles that grew up in the berry patch. If not prepared properly, stinging nettle can cause a burning sensation, especially against the thin membranes inside of the mouth and throat."

Leshy cringed at the plant's name, rubbing his fingertips against his palms as if trying to wipe something off.

The Lamb vaguely recalled someone mentioning stinging nettles popping up in the garden a few days ago. They meant to go pull it before someone got hurt, but the plan slipped their mind.

"'At first,'" The Lamb repeated. "So what do you think it is now?"

"Yes, at first I thought it was, but when I went to the garden to check the plant for clues, I was informed that the nettles had been pulled and burned."

"And that stops Leshy from having taken them to poison Tusken before then how?" The Lamb questioned.

"I'm getting there!" Narinder snapped. "Azzy, when we talked to Tusken, what did he say was strange about his drink?"

"The berries," she answered. "He said there were more than normal and that they weren't cut up well"

Before Narinder could continue, Leshy pipped in, "I don't cut up the berries for juniper drinks. I smash them. They let out more flavor that way."

Narinder nodded. "Exactly. The berries are the problem here. If more leaves were in there than normal, Tusken would have said something, but he didn't. He only mentioned the berries. And these berries he said were glossier than the normal. Glossy berries, just like these."

Narinder unwrapped the cloth in his hand, exposing a several bright right, oblong berries. The Lamb took one and gave it a gentle pinch between their fingers. It was firmer than the ones from the bushes.

"What are these?" They asked, breaking the berry's flesh open with their thumb. Inside were small roundish seeds, different from the oblong ones of the other bushes grew.

"You don't know? You planted them, foolish lamb," Narinder sneered. "These are from jack-in-the-pulpits. These went extinct in The Lands Of The Old Faith a few thousand years ago after Heket decided she didn't like how they looked. They can cause burning and intestinal distress when eaten."

Jack-in-the-pulpit was the name of one of the plants they bought from Plimbo.

Plimbo claimed that the plants would make for especially unique flora for the cult if the Lamb grew them to maturity. The seeds, corms, and seedlings were such a good price, The Lamb couldn't say 'no' to such interesting plants.

They never asked if any of the plants where dangerous to ingest, since they didn't think anyone would try to eat them if The Lamb planted them personally.

The Lamb mentally kicked themself. They know their followers better than that…

Shaking their head, The Lamb countered, "So if that's true, how does that exonerate Leshy?" They tossed the seeds to the ground and wiped the juice from it on their fleece.

Narinder wrapped up the seeds and shoved them in his pocket. "Simple. When they are eaten, jack-in-the-pulpit seeds cause burning and stomach pain. When they are exposed to skin, they sometimes cause a rash." He smirked at Astaroth. "And who did we have to take to the healing bay for a 'stinging nettle' rash she got today, Azzy?"

Astaroth sucked in a breath. "No… but then how did she…" Astaroth's eyes widened. "The bell!"

Narinder snapped his fingers at her. "The bell."

"The bell?" The Lamb repeated, looking to Astaroth.

She leaned against the pillory, muttering, "I can't believe it…" Louder she demanded, "but why?"

Narinder gestured to Leshy without comment and Astaroth made an "oh" sound in realization.

The Lamb bristled. "If one of you doesn't explain, I'm going to invade your privacy and read your minds. I don't care how uncomfortable it makes you."

Narinder looked down his nose at The Lamb, smirking.

"Len Jr. did it."

The Lamb furrowed their brow as Leshy gasped.

"The kid did it? But-but she likes me." Leshy frowned. "She thinks I'm cool…"

Narinder nodded at him. "That's exactly why she did it. You promised her and Sparky you'd play with them and tell them more stories, but not until after you finished at the tavern."

"So she poisoned The Lamb's gross, old, smooching buddy to get me out of work?" Leshy tilted his head then broke into a grin. "Oooh, wow. That's clever!" He cackled, until The Lamb smacked the pillory hard enough to startle him into silence.

"What about the bell?" The Lamb frowned. Did Narinder really expect them to believe this load of bullshit?

Astaroth stepped up this time. "The tavern bell, remember? Sparky and Len Jr. were playing with a ball near by and threw it so hard at the bell that the bell fell off. Everyone was distracted trying to fix it or watch it get fixed that Len Jr. had time to sneak the seeds into Tusken's drink." Astaroth tapped her lips. "Though, I'm not sure if Sparky knew about the plan or not. He was playing in the mud all day, I think."

Narinder said, "This was all one big prank to get Leshy out of work that went wrong."

The Lamb narrowed their eyes as they asked Narinder, "And you expect me to believe that? That Len Jr., a seven-year-old, planned this whole thing?" They waved their arm in a wide gesture as they spoke, "A seven-year-old took seeds from a plant she'd never seen before, cut them up, distracted everyone day drinking, and was able to slip those seeds in Tusken's drink without anyone noticing? " They met Narinder's eyes and held his gaze. "Are you really saying that's what happened today?"

"Yes," a new voice cut in before Narinder could reply, "that is more or less what happened."

Lena held her daughter's shoulders with a death grip. Her eyes burned down at Len Jr. Amdusias chewed his lower lip, his gaze flicking between his daughter, his lover, his ex-gods, and his current god.

Len Jr. whimpered. She had the distinct look of a child who just realized for the first time that their youth did not protect them from dying.

The vein in her neck bulged as Lena forced Len Jr. to take a step forward. "Now, go on, tell The Lamb what you did. Just like you told me and your father."

Len Jr took a shaky step forward. She glanced up at The Lamb. Her lips quivered, and she blinked tears out of her eyes.

"I…I didn't mean to hurt Mr. Tusken," she whispered. "I thought it was Mr. Leshy's drink. I wanted to pull a prank on him by making him eat those yucky berries. Sparky licked one and said it made his tongue feel icky, so I knew they would be bad to eat or drink." Her eyes shot wide. "Oh! And Sparky didn't have anything to do with this! He didn't know. He was okay with waiting for Mr. Leshy to finish his grown-up job."

The Lamb stepped away from the pillory towards Len Jr.

"My Lamb, please, forgive her. She is just a child." Amdusias tried to move between The Lamb and Len Jr., but one sharp look from The Lamb made him return to Lena's side. He grabbed her arm and held tight to it. Lena clenched her jaw. One of her hands grabbed Amdusias' claw so tightly he flinched.

Len Jr. shook and couldn't look The Lamb in the face, but, as a credit to her bravery, she did not try to run away.

The Lamb held out a hand. Their Crown's eye glowed faintly as they dipped into Len Jr.'s mind.

As to be expected from a terrified child, her thoughts were racing. Imagined punishments and rehearsed pleads for forgiveness ran through her mind. Among the storm of worry were flashes of memory—of taking the berries off the jack-in-the-pulpit stalk, of cutting them, of tricking Sparky into hitting the bell, of sneaking through the crowd and dumping them into the pretty pink drink Mr. Leshy just made, then running away giggling.

The Lamb drew their hand back with a sigh. They walked to the pillory then held their palm flat, facing upward. The Crown floated off their head above their palm before dropping the key to the pillory from inside itself. The Lamb unlocked the large padlock that kept the pillory shut on the left side, then the right side, before using The Crown to take the top half off and move it to the ground.

"The child speaks the truth," they said, finally. "You're a free man, Leshy."

Narinder let out a breath of relief, but caught himself halfway through and pretended to yawn instead. Astaroth rolled her eyes at him.

Amdusias rushed to Len Jr., putting a comforting arm around her as all her bravery slipped away and she started to sob. From behind them, Lena rubbed her temples.

The Lamb felt a pang of pity for Lena. She kept their cult running smoothly whenever The Lamb crusaded, so her own child raising such a fuss must have been disappointing.

With a groan, Leshy pushed himself up. He stretched, his joints and back popping and cracking from the day stuck on his knees.

"Ah, sweet freedom." He rolled his shoulders. "Glad not to be killed by you a third a time, Little Lamb."

"Tusken is going to be fine, so I wasn't going to kill you. Maybe next time, I'll try not to be so hasty in assuming the unholy mass murderer attempted a murder," The Lamb told him flatly.

Leshy accepted what would be the closest thing to an apology he was going to receive with a nod.

"Nari," Leshy started, waving his arm out, "My cane is at the tavern. Lead me to that brat who caused me to be stuck in the goddamn jail all day."

Narinder took Leshy by the elbow and navigated him to where Len Jr. sobbed into Amdusias' chest. Lena sent a questioning glance at The Lamb.

They shrugged. Though they doubted Leshy would risk his newly returned freedom by attacking a child right in front of them and the child's parents, they didn't give Lena a nod until they noticed Narinder keeping his hand on Leshy's arm. Whether Narinder planned to restrain his brother or was helping keep him grounded, they didn't know, but Len Jr. would probably be safe either way.

Narinder stopped them in front of Len Jr. and Amdusias.

"Hey, Amdusias, I heard your voice over here, didn't I?" Leshy asked coolly.

With the smallest shake in his voice, Amdusias answered, "You did."

"Alright then, tell me, do you remember the punishment in Darkwood for failing to prank the God of Chaos? What did I do to those poor souls that failed to pull one over on me?"

Amdusias perked up, a glint in his eye.

"Oh, yeah, I think I do. You dropped a beehive on one of them."

"I think that was the one who forgot the punchline to the joke they were telling, actually." Leshy tapped his chin. "Nah, the one who failed pranks I had sit at the bottom of the privy for three days."

"Are you sure? I remember one of them having to eat dirt for a week."

Narinder smirked and released his grip on Leshy's arm. The tension in Lena's body faded.

As the two went back and forth with increasingly outrageous punishments, Len Jr.'s eyes widen as she stared in horror at the bagworms.

She threw herself at Leshy's legs, wrapping her thin arms around them.

"Noooooo! Please, I don't wanna be stuck in a beehive or a privy or anything yucky! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, forgive me!" She pleaded, wiping mucus from her nose on the hem of Leshy's robes.

Satisfied, Leshy reached down until he touched one of her horns. He used it to gently pull her away from the ever growing spot of snot and tears on his robes.

"You know, I just remember something else," he commented idly. "I, unfortunately, am not a god anymore." He shrugged. "I don't get to decide your punishment. " He continued at a louder volume, "The Little Lamb's stupidly merciful, so I bet it'll be something like a week of cleaning the nursery or weeding the garden, right?"

The Lamb suppressed a smile. "Yes, actually. Helping clean the nursery for a week—"

"Two weeks," Lena cut in, her voice sharp enough to make everyone flinch. "You will help clean the nursery for two weeks and help weed in the garden for a week after."

The Lamb snorted a laugh. Lena had been their head disciple for more than a century now. She knew how to dole out punishment better than The Lamb did at this point.

Soon after, Lena and Amdusias decided to take Len Jr. home. She rested her tear stained cheek on Amdusias' shoulder as he carried her away. The child waved weakly good-bye. Narinder elbowed Leshy and whispered to him to wave. Leshy did so, though in the wrong direction.

Leshy then started to ask Narinder to lead him to the kitchen for a needed meal when The Lamb stepped in.

"Azzy can take him," they said. "I'd like to talk to Narinder."

Narinder shrugged and stepped aside, allowing Astaroth to lead his brother away.

Once the two were out of ear shot, The Lamb dipped their head.

"I owe you an apology. I should have trusted your judgment about him more. I was just so angry and worried about Tusken…" they trailed off, shame burning their cheeks.

Narinder snorted. "That wasn't an apology."

"I'm sorry."

"There we go," he sniffed arrogantly, "and I accept." He shifted his weight from foot-to-foot before admitting, "I don't blame you for thinking it was him, but next time, open your little ears and listen to me about things like this." He slapped them on the back of the head, though not hard enough to hurt.

The Lamb rubbed where he hit and smiled

"I promise I'll listen next time."

"What do you mean 'contrived'?" Narinder demanded, throwing the flower from his fruit elixir on the ground.

"Maybe not contrived," Astaroth sipped her bog brew, "but at least predictable. How could the second prince not see he was going to be betrayed by his betrothed? It was so painfully obvious she didn't like him because he was a power-hungry douche."

Narinder bristled. He was about to explain that Astaroth just didn't understand the second prince's complexities, when something tapped his ankle.

He turned to find Leshy standing beside him, his cane in his hand. He tapped his ankle again.

"Azzy, can I talk to Nari?"

Astaroth happily gave up her seat. "Any excuse to not talk about that terrible book," she said as she took her brew towards another group of drinkers.

Leshy set the cane between his knees, keeping a hand on it to finger the carvings of vines along the handle.

"Have you heard about how, um, what's his face, the old guy? The Lamb's husband?"

"Tusken," Narinder supplied. "He's fine. Three days of bed rest and being fawned over by The Lamb seems to have cured him completely." From what Bathin had told Astaroth, Tusken had recovered by the next day, but milked the attention for as long as he could.

"Good." Leshy set his cane beside him then leaned against the counter. He didn't call out to the bartender on duty for a drink. Instead, he crawled onto his belly over the counter and reached under the bar. A moment later he plopped back down in his seat with a bottle of grape nectar, which he popped the cork out of.

"You know this tavern a little too well. Kallamar is going to lecture you about being a drunkard when he gets here," Narinder teased, taking a sip of his drink.

Leshy took a swig and hummed in agreement. He ran his finger on the lip of the bottle before he said, slowly and carefully, "Narinder, I want to thank you. You didn't have to help me. I mean, I wouldn't have helped you."

Narinder raised his shoulder in a half shrug in response before he realized Leshy couldn't see it.

"It might shock you, but I do care about you." Narinder stirred his drink with his straw. "Besides, if I let you die, Heket would maim me." He shuddered. There was a good chance Heket would try to maim him when she returned anyway, but with the additional anger of failing to exonerate their little brother? She would rip Narinder in two with her bare hands.

Leshy barked a laugh. "She would, then dig me up and beat my ass for dying in such a stupid way." He paused, took a drink, then added, "actually, she might do that last part anyway…"

Smiling, Narinder put a comforting hand on Leshy's shoulder. "If she tries, remind her you kill that blasted lamb more times than she did."

Leshy straightened up. "I only killed them once, not counting the execution…" He grinned at the realization before bursting into laughter, smacking his hand against the countertop. "Wait, how many times did each of us kill them? I demand to know the gory details of The Lamb's deaths! I want every last minutia about how they died. Spare nothing!"

Narinder rested his cheek against his fist with a chuckle.

Next time he heard his little brother was going to die, he knew he wouldn't feel excited.

---

AN: I read a lot of cozy mysteries. I thought that experience would make it easy to write a mystery.

It did not.

The idea of Narinder sticking his neck out for Leshy after the latter was falsely accused has been kicking around my head since the Sins Of The Flesh update or so. So it's cool to finally have it out of my noggin.

Another thing of note, I have never seen a jack-in-the-pulpit in real life, but they came up in my research as a possible plant that could be easily mixed up for the berries grown in the game if mixed in a drink. Also their name is funny and they look weird compared to other plants that came up, so I picked them.

Jack-in-the-pulpit plants contain oxalic acid which causes burning and stomach pains when eaten raw. In some cases, it can cause severe swelling of the throat. Luckily, Tusken really is a tough old turtle!

I couldn't really find much about the skin irrational that occasionally comes from Jack-in-the-pulpit exposure, so let's pretend it's a lot like a stinging nettle rash. OK? OK.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

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