Page 16 of Sanctuary and Spices
“Of course,” the Krythari said quickly, their antennae twitching. “We wouldn’t want to harm anything. We were thinking of setting up small tasting booths around the edges—nothing invasive. Guests could enjoy the garden’s beauty without disturbing it.”
Pix bounced higher. “And wait until you see what I’ve designed for the display! Glowing pathways leading through the square and up to the café! It’ll look amazing, and the Jhyra can do their thing without anyone touching them?—”
“No explosions,” Soryn and I said in unison.
“Minimal explosions,” Pix amended. “But think of the possibilities! The garden, Jani’s food, my innovations?—”
“Everyone calm down.” Soryn stepped forward, his prosthetic arm hissing as he adjusted its position. “Let’s discuss this properly.”
I glanced toward Jani. Her fingers twisted tighter in her apron as her gaze darted between the organizers. I could see the wheels turning in her mind as she calculated portions, schedules, logistics. Beneath the mask, doubt flickered, but so did determination.
“What would this entail?” she asked, her tone steady despite the tension in her posture.
The organizers launched into rapid explanations. “We’d like your café to supply featured dishes, inspired by the festival theme—Living Light. Think bioluminescent herbs, crystal-inspired plating, connections between flavor and energy. We’d also love to showcase your garden as a central feature. Guests can explore the square, but the Wanderer’s Rest will be the heart of the celebration.”
My protective instincts flared again, but I kept my voice calm. “You’ll need to respect the garden’s boundaries. That means no tampering with the plants, no heavy equipmentnear the root systems, and absolutely no unauthorized modifications.”
“Understood,” the Krythari said, nodding eagerly. “We’ll make sure everything is designed to work with the garden, not against it. Think of it as an extension of the café’s atmosphere.”
Jani’s posture relaxed slightly, though her fingers still gripped the edge of her apron. “How many people are we talking about?”
“Thousands,” the lead organizer replied. “Multiple species from across the station. We hope this cycle’s festival will be bigger, better than ever.”
“And it’s in a month?” Jani asked, her voice steady but edged with calculation.
“Yes,” the organizer confirmed. “That should give you plenty of time to prepare.”
Jani’s lips pressed into a thin line as she ran calculations in her head. “And we’d be providing food for the event? Drinks, too?”
“As much or as little as you’d like,” the Krythari said. “We can work with other vendors for additional support, but your café would be the centerpiece. Guests will naturally gravitate toward the Wanderer’s Rest.”
I could see the weight of the decision settling on her shoulders. The plants nearest her shifted faintly, their leaves trembling in sync with her breathing. The Jhyra pulsed softly, their glow insistent.
“Jani,” Soryn said gently, his tone softer than usual. “What do you think? It’s a big opportunity, but no pressure. We can always wait until next year.”
Her chin lifted slightly, the doubt in her eyes replaced by a spark of determination. “What exactly would you need from us to make this work?”
The organizers launched into detailed logistics—placement of the tasting booths, how the garden pathways would connect to the festival square, the timeline for setup. Jani asked sharp, precise questions, her instincts kicking into gear.
I stayed quiet, watching her confidence grow with each passing minute. She wanted this challenge—I could see it in the way her fingers twitched, already reaching for ideas. But I also remembered the doubt, the way she’d twisted her apron moments before.
“Could we really do this?” she asked finally, her eyes meeting mine across the prep station.
Something about the way she looked at me—open, vulnerable, hopeful—made my chest tighten.
“If anyone can, you can,” I said quietly. “We’ll make it work.”
JANI
The afternoon service brought a steady stream of customers, each eager to discuss the upcoming festival. A Krythari artisan inquired about incorporating crystal resonance into the menu, while a Pel’ax merchant asked about specialized nutrient requirements for their species. Three Ulthari engaged in a lively debate over optimal crystal formation patterns for food preservation.
“You’re becoming quite popular,” an elderly Thaskari observed as I served their usual afternoon tea. Their scales held a warm bronze hue, reminiscent of Soryn’s.
“I’ve only been here two days,” I said with a chuckle, shaking my head.
“The station knows what it needs.” They sipped their tea with careful reverence. “Some of us have learned to simply accept that.”
“Your aura’s quite strong today,” a young Syrithan noted as I placed their order before them. Their sensory tendrils wove intricate patterns in the air. “The plants certainly notice.”
