Page 20 of Sanctuary and Spices

“Ah! We’ve heard such interesting things.” She gestured to the table. “I’ll bring your usual. And for you, honored chef?”

Jani studied the menu display. “Whatever he’s having.”

The owner’s tendrils rippled with approval as she moved away.

“You come here often?” Jani asked, watching me with curiosity.

“When I need quiet.” I observed how she examined the crystal formations near our table, the way her fingers twitched like she longed to touch them. “The light patterns help me think.”

“They’re beautiful.” She reached toward one, then hesitated. “Sorry. Chef’s habit—always wanting to touch things.”

“They won’t mind.” I caught her hand, guiding it to the nearest formation. Her skin was warm against mine. “Feel the resonance?”

Her fingers brushed the crystal surface. “It’s warm!”

“They respond to living energy.” I realized I still held her hand and let go—reluctantly. “Like the plants in the garden.”

Food arrived—small plates of local delicacies arranged with careful attention to color and texture. I watched Jani’s expression shift as she tasted each dish, her chef’s training evident in the way she analyzed flavors.

“This sauce...” She studied a golden droplet on her fork. “Sweet, but there’s something underneath. Almost like...”

“Crystallized valthorn. They grow it in specialized chambers on the lower levels.”

“Fascinating.” She tried another bite, eyes lighting up with discovery. “The texture changes as it hits your tongue.”

“The crystals dissolve at different rates based on temperature.”

Her gaze flicked to mine, excitement sparking between us. “Could we use that technique for the festival? Maybe with those mushrooms from the market?”

“Possibly.” I found myself leaning in, drawn to her enthusiasm. “Though we’d need to adjust the resonance patterns.”

“What about combining it with Erynn’s tea preservation methods?” She spoke animatedly, her hands moving expressively.

I listened, captivated—not just by her ideas, but by the way she fit so effortlessly into station life, into my world. But Lyrian’s appearance at the market still nagged at me.

“Ronhar?” She touched my hand, her warmth sinking into my skin. “You went away for a moment there.”

“Sorry.” I turned my hand over, caught her fingers before she could pull away. “Just thinking about the market.”

“About Lyrian?”

I nodded. “We worked together, years ago. If he’s here officially...”

“You think something’s wrong?”

I studied the way the crystal lights played across her skin. “I think I’m not ready for this evening to end with shop talk.”

Her breath caught. “No?”

“Walk with me? There’s something I want to show you.”

The station’s night cycle had fully engaged, crystal formations glowing stronger to compensate for dimmed environmental lighting. We took the long way back to Barou’s, through corridors where architectural crystals created dancing patterns overhead.

Jani told me about the docking portals, her quick grasp of the tech impressive. I shared stories of the garden’s early days, when the plants fought the station’s artificial environment.

We passed other residents—a Krythari artist arguing with a Pel’ax merchant about crystal resonance frequencies, a group of Ulthari discussing trade route modifications, a pair of human children chasing programmed light patterns along the floor.

The walk to Barou’s ended too quickly. We stood awkwardly at her door, neither quite ready to say goodnight.

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