Chapter 6
Whatever planty den of solitude I expected Cereus to occupy, this wasn’t it. To put it simply, it didn’t look lived in at all.
Cereus caught my wide-eyed expression. “This place is new to me as well.” Well, that explained that.
“You’re just moving in as well?” I asked, more than a little surprised. Cereus nodded.
“My old home was ill-equipped for a human to live there. This one holds the amenities for both you and I.”
“Where should I put our good lady’s belongings?” Quercus asked. Cereus led him down a hallway, while I scurried along behind.
“Serenity’s room is this one,” she said, snaking a vine through an affini-sized doorway. I audibly breathed a sigh of relief. At least I had my own room. Cereus motioned for me to go inside. “Take a moment to see that everything is in order,” she told me. “Quercus and I will be in the entrance room.”
It was… a lot like my old room, to be honest. Probably even a bit bigger. It had a bed that could comfortably hold five of me, but close enough to the floor that I wouldn’t struggle to climb aboard. It had a desk with a pretty sleek-looking computer, very obviously of affini make; just in case my tablet wasn’t good enough, I suppose. I didn’t see why my tablet wouldn’t be good enough, but it’d be pretty stupid to point at it and tell them I didn’t want it. There were a few assorted shelves for keepsakes, and a closet for things I didn’t plan on decompiling. Quercus had placed my meager belongings in the corner.
I hung up the backup shrouds in the closet, first and foremost. My tablet I just set on the desk for the time being. I’d have to sync it to the new compiler later, unless I’d lost the privilege to use it. Other than that, there was my starry blanket, my compiled reproduction of the original Shroud. Last of all were the items from… well, my old life, really. Threadbare clothing I’d been unwilling to leave behind, not that there was much of it. A silly print shirt. The first skirt I ever bought. Then there were a few cool rocks I’d found a few years back during the brief time that cool rocks were a thing I was really into. There were a few books, mostly from my childhood. Physical books were a rarity, but we’d been relatively well off. Then there was the notebook which held the first Evernight story I’d ever written.
“The Dark Lord and the Search for the Cure!!” It was the one story I’d never gone back through to correctly gender the lead character, mostly because it was the one story I had physically written down. Stars, I’d had dreadful handwriting then. To say nothing of my attempts at drawing pictures to go with it. I wasn’t sure whether to stack it with my other books, or whether to hide it in the closet. I opted for the shelf, putting it up carefully; damn thing was falling apart.
If any plant decided to poke fun at me for that story I’d set them on fire.
Figuring that took care of everything, I wandered back out into the main room. Quercus and Cereus were conversing in Affin-ese. Both turned to face me as I made my entrance.
“Um… hi?”
“It’s good to see you, Serenity. Selenicereus and I were just making sure we’re on the same leaf as far as your care is concerned,” Quercus explained. Blah blah blah, “my care” this, “my care” that.
“It is in the interests of both of us to ensure your wardship is as fulfilling as can be,” Cereus added.
“Cool, cool.” I would’ve hopped up onto the couch, but the cushions were tall as I was. Instead I had to opt for the built in stairway at the end. Yeah, the couch had its own set of stairs. “So when do we start working on taking over the world?”
Quercus gave a look of planty confusion.
“I believe humans call it an ‘indoor joke,’” Cereus explained. Quercus nodded and rumbled.
“You two are already very cute together.”
I cocked my head. “You think we’re dating or something?” A Cereus-ward vine came to drape around my shoulders. Did she think we were dating or something?
“Wardship is a bit different, I’d say,” Quercus said. “Serenity, listen to what Selenicereus says, okay? She will never tell you to do anything that harms or endangers you.”
I’d be the judge of that. “Yeah, yeah. I know the stakes.”
“I assure you there’s a bright future for you either way, petal.” Quercus rose from the couch, which was as much a sight to see as it usually was. “Now, I’m afraid I’d better be going…”
Well, this was probably the only chance I’d get to finish making peace. But what to say?
“Um, hey, Quercus.”
“Yes, Serenity?”
“You talk about my care and all that a lot. And…” Just say it, Serenity. Swallow your pride, and say it. “And… I know you care a lot about me, in your own planty way. I… okay, I’m still kinda pissed off about the Class D thing. But… thanks, big guy. For caring. And… um. You’ve spent a lot of effort on me, but… make sure to take care of yourself, too.” Before he could speak, I held out my arms. “How, uh, how about one more hug, ‘cuz you really seem to like those, and—“
Quercus hugged me. I wrapped my arms around as much of him as I could, which may or may not have been the only thing keeping me from being completely absorbed by his botanical mass. That thrumming of his bounced around in my noggin, but I could sense another very distant beat, which must’ve belonged to Cereus. I had a face full of moss, which… smelled kinda nice, actually. Couldn’t say the same about its taste. Blegh.
“Thank you, Serenity,” Quercus said. At this proximity, I felt it before I heard it. “Your words mean… very much to me.”
“Mmrmmff,” I replied.
Quercus took his leave, which just left Cereus and I. A vine came to rest on my shoulder once more.
“So, uh,” I started, “now what?” I turned to face my… warden.
“Now?” Cereus echoed, those eyes of her focused on me. “Now… ah, yes. I’ve waited a long time for this moment.”
“If you wanted to eat me you could’ve just done it at the bridge,” I muttered.
Cereus seemed distracted. “Right,” she murmured to herself. “First, I will… assuming what I requested went through…” She stood there for a moment, but I could see the glow of a tablet shining through her vines. Something beeped.
“You good, plant?” I asked.
“Am I ‘good’, Serenity? Funny you should ask.”
“Uh, hold up, what’s happening up there?” I pointed to the ceiling, which was… turning black. A void started at a single point, and then rapidly spread out from it; the ceiling was entirely changing color.
Cereus didn’t acknowledge it. “I feel better than ever,” she said. Was she trying to sound menacing or something? “The Dark Lady has long struggled to maintain her freedom, but now, it would seem, she’s fallen into my clutches.” The ceiling finished changing color, and I could see the walls starting to follow suit. “Evernight is mine at last!” Cereus gloated.
“I’m pretty sure we dropped this act a while ago,” I said. The hell was she doing trying to sound evil all of a sudden?
“I don’t think you understand, Serenity. I read those stories of yours, and oh, how I admired their common heroine. At that moment I decided… that Evernight was mine to claim.” Her eyes narrowed and then widened as she spoke, shimmering in reds and not-reds.
The walls finished with a gradient turning black to red at the bottom. Cliche “bad guy” colors, but they did match Cereus’ thorns and cape.
“Look, Cereus, I’ll be a good little human and do what it takes to get through this wardship, and we can all be on our merry way.” Was that too much to say? Or was she too busy being the biggest ham she could be to notice?
“You think you will be escaping, Evernight? You draw ever closer to wonderful oblivion. With you out of the picture, nothing will stop my conquest~”
The latter then, got it. “Again, if you wanted me gone you had a fine opportunity already.”
“You are mistaken, your darkness.” Oh gee, a new nickname, great. “I have no designs to end you. Once I break your will, you’ll submit as my apprentice, and we shall rule a realm of endless night.”
She was really trying her hardest to draw out Evernight, wasn’t she? “And by ‘apprentice,’ I’m gonna take a wild guess that you mean ‘floret.’”
Cereus gave a full throated evil laugh. It was quite impressive, for a creature without a proper throat. “If that is what it takes, then you shall be a willing servant to evil.”
Stars, she was really going all in! And y’know what? Fine. I’d play along. “Evernight will never bow to the likes of you, fiend!” I stared her in those evil and pretty eyes of hers. There was no wind blowing inside the hab, but it would’ve been really great if there was.
Cereus held out her arms, just because she felt like it, I guess. “The beast bares its fangs at last!” she declared, “for it doesn’t know that the moment it requested me as its warden, its fate was sealed!”
“Has your form been a guise all this time, villain? Your role as but a simple affini all an act?”
“You are clever, Dark Lady. Selenicereus was but a lure to force you out of hiding! I am now, as I stand before you, the very Queen of the Night! For 25,000 blooms have I gathered my power. At last it has paid off, with the only one able to stop me in my clutches!”
“You have gained nothing, foul pretender!” I shot back. “The darkness remains my ally, and by our might you will be defeated!” Alright, how long were we going to keep grandstanding at each other? When would it stop?
Cereus was probably wondering the same thing, because she didn’t immediately speak. For a few moments we stared at each other; for a few moments, awkward silence reigned. Eventually, she started laughing, sending ripples through the vines of her upper half. Unable to help it, I joined her. Once the dust settled, she pulled out her tablet.
“I must finish getting established in our evil lair. Is there any furniture or other decorations my guest desires?”
Well, if she was asking… “A canopy bed,” I told her.
She tapped her tablet a couple of times. “Done,” she said.
“Just like that?” I cocked my head.
“Just like that,” she replied. “It will…” She trailed off and shook her head. “My henchblooms will have it set up tomorrow. Is there anything else, your darkness?”
I wasn’t sure. Looking around, there was of course the giant TV and the giant couch, a table to eat at, and an entire adjacent kitchen; most of it affini sized, but with the necessary accommodations to make it usable by me. The table, interestingly enough, was low enough to the ground for me to sit at, with the seats of several giant chairs essentially resting on the floor.
There was also… hold on, was that a door leading outside next to that great big window?
“We have a balcony?” I asked, a little entranced by the idea.
“But of course,” the Queen of the Night lilted. “You must’ve seen them on the way in. Care to take a look outside?”
We were, as it turned out, much higher than the third floor. And what a view it was! I’d half expected for us to just be facing another highrise, but it turned out we were at the edge of the cluster. Instead we were greeted by the skyline of metal and glass, the once cold and corporate heart of the city. We were right up close, too, much closer than the north bridge was. I stared. I squinted and then stared in infrared, but the glass of the railing mostly resulted in me staring at a rainbow reflection of myself. I turned to face the explosion of color that was Cereus.
“Inside we were just…” I attempted to articulate, “how are… so high up here?”
“The indoor atrium is layered,” my verdant warden explained. “We overlook the third layer of three.”
“So we’re…”
“Not on the third floor, but the thirteenth.”
Huh. I squinted the infrared off. “That’s bad luck, y’know.” Buildings weren’t supposed to have thirteenth floors. Then again, Cereus might have known this and picked the floor on purpose for her “evil lair.”
“Luck?” Cereus echoed. “I am beyond the human abstraction of probability.”
“And how will the dastardly queen overcome, say, a fire starting up here?” I asked.
“These buildings are entirely fireproof,” she said simply. “Would the Dark Lady feel safer on a different floor?”
“Well that’s a strange thing to ask your captive,” I murmured.
“The Dark Lady’s comfort is relevant to my plans,” Cereus replied.
“You will not baffle me with cryptic statements,” I retorted. We’d just have to stay on the thirteenth floor. Anything else would be letting Cereus win… or something. Right? Right.
It wasn’t like being on this floor was the worst of my worries, anyway. I was still in the clutches of an evil plant, even if they did sort of just treat this whole thing like a joke. And what was the idea with that, anyway? Was she so certain I would be a floret by the end of this? Was my fate already sealed? No. The Dark Lady would not succumb.
Evernight had to be strong. The alternative was, of course, unthinkable. This cocky plant could play the heel she fancied herself as; the Dark Lady had years of experience surviving classmates and teachers. She’d been… temporarily embarrassed by a parent. But she’d come back! I was back, and I was unstoppable!
…Stars, I wished. The truth remained that I was on unsteady ground. The Dark Lady had returned, but she was weakened in this state of nascency. The cruel attack of, um, a random affini on the street had left her just barely exposed enough to be taken prisoner.
It was… demoralizing to say the least. I had been ascendant, testing my Evernight Sight with more powers sure to come, but my guard had collapsed at the worst moment. I shouldn’t be here. I should’ve been at home. Watching anime or something. Damn plants.
Lunch was delicious. I shouldn’t have expected it to be anything less, really; if there was food in plant world, it was impossible for it to be anything else.
“So how’s this going to work?” I asked Cereus, after she’d finished decompiling the dishes and leftover ingredients. “This wardship, I mean. We’ve established that you want to make me abandon the side of good and become your willing apprentice.”
Cereus clasped her hands together. “A splendid question, my lovely initiate. Here is what I can tell you. The Dark Lady will face a multitude of trials that she must overcome if she is ever to defeat me. They will require varying levels of resourcefulness and skill. Aspects of your aptitude will be tested, and the Dark Lady’s weaknesses will have to be overcome.”
“And should I succeed, like I know I will?”
“In the event that I am bested, however unlikely it may be, you will be able to reclaim your precious independence,” Cereus said, which seemed straightforward enough. “And should you fail….” Her eyes creased into a grin.
“I will face these trials,” I said, “as I know I have no choice. You may have me at your mercy, pretender queen, but dare not grow complacent.” I matched her grin with my own. “Or better yet, do.”
“I know full well of the Dark Lady’s tenacity,” Cereus replied, still grinning down at me. “Oh, but… before I forget, I… intercepted this memo addressed to you. You must read it.” A vine handed me a sealed envelope. Kinda outta left field, but okay.
I opened it and read the thing.
May this message be seen by Evernight’s eyes and no one else’s. Know that I have placed a powerful spell on this so-called “Queen of the Night.” If you deem it necessary, utter the phrase “sunrise” to her, and it shall force her back into the persona of “Selenicereus Dulcidea, Second Bloom.” Employ this spell should the Queen’s nefariousness ever prove too difficult to endure.
Similarly, know this! Uttering the phrase “sunset” will fully return the Queen’s faculties to her. Use this to cancel the spell until it is needed again, but only do so if you are prepared!
The Dark Lady’s progress will not be negatively affected by usage of this spell.
I watch your struggle from afar, noble Evernight.
-A Friend
“You gave us a safeword?” I asked Cereus.
“The Queen knows not of what you speak,” she replied. Okaaaaay then. It was probably prudent to test it out, right? Probably, yeah.
“Sunrise.”
Cereus entirely shifted. Her posture slackened and her eyes blinked several times — so she was able to blink!
“Yes, Serenity?” she asked, with a look of mild concern. “Is everything alright?”
“Just testing something,” I told her, “I’m fine.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said. She was looking at me expectantly.
“Sunset,” I said. Cereus straightened up again, and made herself look as imposing as she could manage — which was pretty imposing, I had to admit.
“Is the Dark Lady ready for her first trial?” she asked me. The Queen was back.
“A trial already?” I asked. She couldn’t have had that much time to plan.
“Trials can emerge at any moment,” Cereus explained. “You’d best be ready for them.”
Riiiight. “Let’s, uh, hear it.”
“If you wish to have any chance against me, you will have to be able to manifest a spiritual avatar!” Cereus declared. “With all of your authority over darkness, summon a familiar.”
Um. There was one story where Evernight was forced to contend with the mysterious spirits of the Otherworld, but she never exactly managed to bind one as a servant. To be perfectly honest, it wasn’t something I utilized as much as I probably could’ve — it was just the briefest foray into the metaphysical side of Evernight’s world that was never properly revisited. It was a time when I was really trying to think of just where her powers had come from, after I’d decided her character was somewhat at odds with the wacky pulp sci fi plots of her past.
“So I’m going to take it that you have already found an Otherworldly link,” I said, not really knowing at all what she had in mind.
“I do in fact know of such a place,” the Queen said. “But do you have the skill to harness spirits?”
The place Cereus knew was some kind of toy store. Or whatever counted as one in our moneyless and planty future.
“So what’s wrong with catalogues on the tablet?” I’d asked.
She just gave me a look. “This is where the spiritual connection is strongest. Can’t you feel it?”
I let myself close my eyes as I “sensed” what she was talking about. With them closed like this, she couldn’t see me roll them. I opened them again. “I do feel a link,” I said, trying to ignore the peculiar look we were getting from an unsteady terran trailing after their owner. Just a floret. Didn’t need to worry about what they thought, right? Right.
I stepped forth into the colorful maw of… what was it called? “Digitaria’s Fuzzy Friends for Sophonts.” Right. Truly a nexus of spiritual energy. So this first trial of my bizarre warden’s was… getting a plushie. Why? It was a way of starting me off easy, I guess.
Now, it wasn’t as if I was against having a plushie. Sure, it was a bit childish. I’d drifted in and out of enough intranet and overnet spaces with large populations of other transfemmes to know that our community at large basically revered the things. I wasn’t sure though. I mean, I was already a lurker on those boards to start with, so I’d never exactly boldly declared that “I didn’t get it.” What did a plush have to offer the Dark Lady?
The simple answer was probably that Cereus hadn’t figured out her game plan yet and was just testing the waters with something simple. But what if there was a hidden aim, here? But if there was, I wasn’t about to figure it out. It was…
Just get the task over with, Serenity. Maybe you’ll even find one you like.
“What can I help you find today, cutie?” an affini with far too many limbs asked me. I assumed they were the Digitaria in question.
I stuttered. “A, um. Um. A familiar.” If I didn’t say it, Cereus probably would’ve.
“Oh!” Digitaria exclaimed. “Something wise and protective?” They leaned in. “Maybe something dark and mysterious?” Cereus remained stoic as the exchange went on. I suppose I had to admire her restraint when it came to, uh, not laughing. “Or something to match your adorable outfit!”
Sigh. “I think I’ll browse a bit to start out with,” I said.
“No problem at all, cutie!” Digitaria said. “See which one speaks to you, and in the rare case you think of something that we don’t have, we can make it for you!”
I nodded and headed deeper into Digitaria’s cavernous domain of fluff. There were walls of the things on all sides, and I mean affini-height walls rather than terran. I quietly hoped the one I wanted wouldn’t be out of reach, to spare me the embarrassment of Cereus or Digitaria having to grab it for me.
Speaking of Cereus, I turned back to look at her.
“Take all the time you need, my lovely apprentice.” She just sort of stood there, eyeing me with a wicked grin, vines occasionally passing over a plushie or five.
“Only in your tormented dreams, pretender.”
It was time to begin looking in earnest. There were… just so freakin’ many, oh my stars. Animals that did exist, had existed, or had never existed were all represented, and it didn’t stop at animals. Cartoon flowers with faces, a soft tree as tall as I was, and then plushified assortments of objects. I was holding an anthropomorphized bee-person in my hands when something else caught my attention; they looked like pillowy models of… sorta mechanical flowers? They ranged from big to very big, and had little names printed on them that I could actually read. They were… representations of spaceships. Affini spaceships.
I put the bee back to take a closer look. They looked bizarre as hell, but still like something I could imagine gliding through space, maybe doing battle with terran warships. And speaking of terran warships, they had those too. One of them was a pirate ship I remembered hearing about on the news, that had caused a load of trouble. Others were recognizable from Cosmic Navy propaganda vids. The terran ships were all sleek and angular, with starry camouflage which brought to mind what I was wearing. The affini ships, though? They looked like they were proud to be seen, or like they’d laugh in your face if you mentioned some silly phrase like “cloaking” or “stealth.” They looked like exotic works of art, while the terran ships looked like… spaceships.
They all had little cards that described their specs and brief histories; the terran vessels all had descriptors like “adorable” and “cute”, which was a little strange to see among paragraphs that described the grim conditions of building or serving aboard them.
The affini ships all had info cards as well, but the specs they showed were beyond unrealistic. 35 kilometers long? Gimme a break. Then I looked at another one which said 130. The histories were wild too, cramming as much as they could in the little cards, stuff about pacification campaigns and how many galaxies they’d visited, to say nothing about how old some of them were described to be. All of them had overnet links you could follow for more information.
I moved on, because as crazy as it would be, I really didn’t have a spaceship in mind as my familiar. Even though it’d be cool as heck. Part of me imagined coming to Cereus with one of them, daring her to dispute it. As if to say, “Gaze in awe at what I have brought to heel!” The problem that remained though was one of image. Evernight didn’t need a spaceship when she could just teleport through the void.
Wait, was that too overpowered?
There was still so much ground to cover, and despite what Cereus said, I didn’t know how long this place would be open. I tried to get an image in my mind of what it would be. Something nocturnal would be fitting, despite my not quite being nocturnal myself. But did I want something real, or something more fantastical? Dragons were an option. There was a whole wall of them across from the spaceships. As cool as Evernight riding a dragon would be, however, I sort of felt like that would come to dominate her image more than I would’ve liked. If you went around riding a literal dragon, that was probably what people would associate you with. Same with the spaceship, really. She wasn’t the Dark Rider on Wings of Night, and she wasn’t the Dark Captain of Evernight, either. Though the former sounded kind of cool in its own right…
I stumbled into a room full of plush affini. Many were humanoid, and many more weren’t, but almost all of them had those extremely detailed eyes, some of which looked like they were glowing. I was so distracted by all of these little eyes I nearly didn’t notice the sign that said, “Hey, florets, ask Mx. Digitaria to compile a plush of your owner!”
I’d pass, thanks. It was quite embarrassing to find myself intimidated by all the beady little eyes surrounding me, but… well, I just shook my head and stepped out of the room.
Stars, this place just went on and on! It was built into one of the highrises, which were large, sure, but not infinite. Eventually I realized the store had wrapped back in on itself, because I was back where the spaceships were. Shrugging, I wandered into a new aisle which had plushies of people. Or, uh, humans, to be more specific. If they were from games, or shows, or what, I wasn’t sure. A good few of them looked rather generic; like, you had spaceships and dragons and affini and whatever and then here you just had… John Terran.
But, hey, to the floret who’d pick, love, and be loved by John Terran for the rest of their days… good on you, buddy. My search, though, would keep me looking.
I passed by any number of things. Aliens that weren’t affini, of which there were lots. Various sea creatures from times gone by. Insects and spiders and scorpions, caterpillars and butterflies and moths. Eventually I came to a wall full of birds. The first one I gravitated to was a raven with floppy wings and silly little eyes. Could a raven work? They were classic, sure, and apparently wicked smart, too. But this one just wasn’t grabbing me.
There were a few owls, I noted. Owls were… so synonymous with night that it was pretty much a cliche. Even so, they were pretty cool birds, I had to admit. I was aware of two different mythological interpretations of owls. The first was the obvious one; that they were wise. Whether that was true or not was another thing entirely. I’m pretty sure ravens were smarter. The other interpretation I’d heard was the much more interesting one; owls as bringers of death and misfortune. But that was just superstition. Y’know, completely unlike the valid and legitimate implications of the number thirteen.
Stars, how long had I been here? At this point I should’ve probably just grabbed the raven and called it a day. But Cereus would probably throw a hissy fit if she found out that I was just picking one to be done with searching. Then again, the raven might grow on me. Who knew? I was just about to grab it when my gaze passed over the owls again. And then I saw it.
Its big round eyes had stars in them as it looked right at me. Stars, just like… wait, that was just a reflection of the Shroud. Dummy. Still, it had been looking right at me. Like it knew something. I picked it up and, uh, wow, it was soft. The mottled browns and greys of its body were woven together in such intricate detail that for a moment I wondered if I’d get lost in them like those big dumb plant eyes or something. It had wide and floppy wings just like the raven did, with little velcro straps that’d keep them pinned to the body if you so chose. It was much too big to stably perch on my shoulder, but a perfect size to hug and squeeze. Of course, a great many of the plushies in here were like that. So what made this one special?
It had to have been those eyes, right? I’d already noted twice that they’d been looking right at me. It warranted noting a third time. Big expressive eyes. My mom had always said I had these big, expressive eyes. I peered at my face reflected in the owl’s. We stared at each other for a good few moments. Eventually I stopped waiting for the owl to say something.
“Are you my familiar?” I asked it quietly. Would you believe me if I said it didn’t answer? Still. Still. If anything was going to be, it would probably be this owl. Part of me was a little disappointed, for some reason. Like, this wasn’t a situation where I saw A Thing and knew that, “yes, that’s it!” It wasn’t some fateful encounter, but… it was an encounter. The eyes reflecting the stars was probably what grabbed me in the first place. Maybe that was enough. A brief vision that brought me to that which I was looking for. Or maybe I was waxing poetic over a stuffed bird.
Then again, it was Cereus’ idea, not mine. I… guess it was nice of her to do. I guess. Weird that she was framing it as some great trial to overcome, but, well. She could’ve just let me stay home and stare at the wall. But I guess being here instead was… fine.
Oh, what if I compiled a little hat for the owl? That might be cute.
Er… fine. I guess I was taking it. I’d have to think of a name. The Familiar of Evernight needed a good name. For the time being, though, I meandered back to where I assumed the front of the store was. Then I went the other way to where the front of the store actually was. Cereus and Digitaria were discussing things in Plant Language, but the former broke off when I approached.
“Is your summoning complete?” Cereus asked. Digitaria looked more than a little amused.
Eh, I’d play along. “I’ve brought forth and bound this spirit of the Otherworld.” I presented the owl to her.
“And I see it has assumed the form of a noble hawk,” Cereus noted.
Swing and a miss!
“Owl, Cereus. It’s an owl.”
Cereus cocked her head. “Are you in pain?” But Digitaria told her something in plantish and elicited a little chuckle. Cereus had the grace to look embarrassed. “It appears my research on terrestrial fauna has come up short.”
“But I thought the Queen was old and wise and knew a great many things!” I exclaimed, milking this moment for all that I could.
“These are very bold words for one still at my mercy,” she replied menacingly.
“The cutie better watch herself!” Digitaria giggled. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, plants. A vine ruffled my hair, but I couldn’t tell whose. Wait, scratch that, it was Digitaria’s. I wasn’t sure how I knew.
“Your ritual was completed without fail?” Cereus asked, looking my way. I nodded. “Then it would seem this one is coming with us.”
“Wonderful!” Digitaria said. “I’m sure the little one will give it a lovely home.” They sure loved coming up with new and interesting ways to demean me. “Do you need a bag? Gift wrap, maybe?”
Probably not, right? But they’d asked Cereus, not me. Sigh.
“I wouldn’t think so,” Cereus said. “Serenity?”
Oh. Well someone was acknowledging my existence, at least. “Nah, we should be fine.”
“Then our work here is concluded.”
“You have a great day, you two!” Digitaria said.