The Astralaceaes

Chapter 17: Operation Budding Flower

Haledon stepped through the grass screen and emerged into a quiet corridor. There, Witch-Hazel already stood talking with Spark and Mek-Tek, their goblet splashing sap with each drunken sway.

"Wait...you were—" Haledon blurted, pointing behind him.

"SOIL modifications," Witch-Hazel replied, noticing the two emerge. "It looks like the three of us are sitting there, listening to Sparrow for the next little while. Let's get moving."

Witch-Hazel stumbled their way down the empty passage before merging into the main corridor. They quietly hummed through the damp wood of their face as the guild rushed to catch up.

Travelling the length of the empty Astralaceae, Haledon felt an eerie sense of abandonment as he investigated the space. He had never seen the ship so desolate. Even in the night shifts' quiet evenings, the occasional Druid could be seen at work in a corridor, tending the roots or making minor grafts. But as Haledon passed the abandoned nodes where even Earth Druids once stood at attention, he craned his neck to find the guards.

"Where's the Sequoia Squad?" He asked.

"Watching the speeches, having drinks, and switching posts at the speed of molasses on a cold day." Witch-Hazel waved a hand around. "Which means easy passage without unwanted attention."

Witch-Hazel dragged a hand along the wall. Reaching and freeing a nutrient line, they stopped to top up their goblet.

"Should they be doing that?" Gazeas leaned in and whispered to Haledon.

"Probably not—definitely, not," Haledon replied with a sigh.

"Witch-Hazel," He approached. "Please stop weakening the stilt roots for sap."

"What? Come on. This doesn't hurt anyone."

"Like you pouring sap down my throat in the game? I wasn't okay with that, you know."

"Wow, you had that one germinating for a while, didn't you? Haledon, it was all in the spirit of the game and for show—"

"No, I did not appreciate it and would like it not to happen again."

Witch-Hazel inspected the Druid closely as the thin root drained sap into their goblet. A leafy frown revealed itself as their foliar stare softened.

"I apologize for upsetting you. You know the display was also for the crowd and Sparrow, right? Everyone saw us—everyone saw you get angry and storm away, and that's what Sparrow wanted."

"Sparrow told you to force me to drink so I would get angry?"

"Not in so many words or nearly as specific."

"Why?"

"That information...I do not have...but, knowing Sparrow, it had something to do with Mesa."

Haledon thought as he walked beside the bramble being. His mind raced to the conversation with Hummingbird. The oddness of her questions and how strongly she had taken him by the arm. He grabbed his forearm as he remembered what she said about Sparrow.

"And here," Witch-Hazel continued as they placed the nutrient line back into the wall. "I will even graft the stilt back in place."

They finished, lifting the goblet to their mouth and soaking in a swig of sap.

"Thank you," Haledon responded and nodded, unconvinced by Witch-Hazel's display but eager to move on. "So, the Hilum?"

Witch-Hazel continued to lead the group down the hall in relative silence. Stopping at each corridor, they instinctively poked their head out before continuing.