Confused and groggy, Barra had a hard time getting up that next morning. She’d woken up several times during the night and couldn’t remember whether it was from dreams or nightmares. Calming herself had been difficult with her conscious mind spinning up thoughts about her father, and the Middens. She was so discombobulated on her way out of the den that she walked right out, passing her mother without saying a word.
Two steps away from the den, the cool air roused her and she turned around.
Poking her head into the kitchen, Barra said, “Morning, Mom!” She bounded over, stood up, put both arms around her mother’s neck, and kissed her on the cheek. And then, grimacing, she asked for both forgiveness and permission to go, “Bye, Mom?”
Brace smiled warmly as she shooed her daughter out the door, “Hurry along now, Burbur. Have a good day.”
Wincing at the nickname, Barra said, “Aw, Mom, don’t call me that.” Then she dropped to all fours and made her way back out again.
Following her daughter out the doorway, Brace teased, “Too old for Burbur? Really? Can’t imagine. What with you running around on all fours like a two-ring old?”
Barra stood tall but did not turn around. “Love you, Mom,” she tossed the words over her shoulder.
“Love you too, dear.” Brace watched her leave for Coppice, making sure she was safe for as far as she could see. Even though she tried not to encourage it, she was proud of her daughter’s willful attitude—reminded her of herself as a bup.
Suddenly realizing Barra was almost out of earshot, she yelled, “Be good! And NO PLAYING IN THE MIDDENS!”
Barra half-ran, half-walked on her hind legs until she was sure her mother couldn’t see her, and then she gave up the pretense and ran. All fours wasn’t the civilized way to travel, but she loved the way the wind felt through her fur, and the rush of the pulse in her veins. Besides, Barra mainly travelled the unpruned sidewoods, where no one would be offended by her behavior. She liked to avoid the thick foot traffic of the pathwood. The Arboreals bustling this way and that were fun obstacles to dodge, but too many of them knew her mother.
It wasn’t long before Barra could see the Coppice ahead of her. The foliage was thinned out from regular pruning unlike the surrounding treescape and the approaching pathwoods were reflection smooth from the number of Arboreals who visited frequently. The Coppice was more than a place to play, it was where experience and youth collided. Aged Arboreals could be found engaged in hobbies and other interests, and often, they were willing to share their thoughts with anyone curious enough to ask a question. Many of the older tree-dwellers even played games, and in the Coppice, bups were included. Barra visited almost every day, but she only stayed around when Venress Starch was there.
The Coppice was large enough even on its fullest day that the Arboreals could spread out easily, so groups stood out. Barra spotted Plicks immediately where he sat among several others. They were chatting and asking questions of an elderly Kolalabat who was tending a small plot of lensleaf plants. Barra scampered over and arrived just as ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ went up from the small crowd.
“Hey, Plicks,” she announced herself. “What’re you lookin’ at?”
Startled, Plicks dug his talons deep into the bough beneath them. He released his tense-knuckled grip when he realized who it was, and said, “Barra! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He shook his head and turned his attention back to the old Kolalabat. Eyes full and bright, Plicks said, “Ven Tadafell has been tending this particular plant for more than a ring, and it’s been growing leaves truer and larger than ever before! He pulled the first stem this morning, and… well, see for yourself!”
Leaning in, Barra caught a glimpse of the large disc-shaped leaf that Ven Tadafell was holding. Full of fluid, the lensleaf was perfectly clear, thicker at the center than the edges, and through it, everything was magnified. Ven Tadafell smiled broadly, and though he was eager to use the lensleaf himself, he proudly beckoned his friends closer so they could see too. Plicks and Barra huddled in close, but after only a short time, Barra whispered, “Have fun.”
As she started to walk away, Plicks said without looking, “Hunting Venress Starch again?” His voice curled up like his knowing smirk.
Barra raised a skeptical brow. “What about it?”
“She’s here. I saw her arrive Nest-side, heading Reachward. Good luck,” he said, and then scooted even closer to Ven Tadafell.
Barra whispered, “Thanks!” She bounded away, surveying the wood above for any sign of the sly Haggidon.
Venress Starch’s body was covered in the same golden brown scales possessed by other Haggidons though age had stolen most of the iridescent shimmer from hers. Only the scales around her eyes remained vibrant. She was able to blend into her environment, and even with her ample belly, she was unexpectedly agile and silent when she moved. All great reasons for Barra to enjoy tracking her, but best of the lot was Venress Starch’s uncanny skill to avoid detection; Barra loved the challenge.
Surveying the Coppice, Barra made her way carefully to the periphery, to the fuller branches where she could best hide her approach. She passed several other Arboreals including Tory who was working on some kind of binding project. Binding wasn’t a skill Barra possessed, but Tory was adept and she stopped to watch him for a moment. Binders created structure from living wood, directing growth so that it was self-reinforcing, stronger with age. Tory was practicing with a group that was debating how to add a flourish to their work. The tight braids of wood looked like a common window to Barra; a hole in a half-finished wall. She listened in, gathering that a spiral of nightblooming irises was to rise out of the window, but she didn’t understand how. She moved on. Ascended toward the Reach as Plicks suggested. She saw no sign of Venress Starch.
High up and mostly isolated, Barra slouched down, disappointed. She began to wonder if Plicks had been mistaken. A fern brushed against Barra’s fur, and she swiped at it. When she hit nothing but air, she realized too late that the irritating tickle wasn’t from a fern.
Two thick tails tipped with sickle-shaped fangs were draped around either side of the young Listlespur. They coiled around Barra in a flash and she was snatched up into the air. Rolled over and held tight, she was suddenly belly up, face to face, with the fierce Venress Vallor Starch.
Vallor towered over Barra, even though she was small for a Haggidon. Horns grew in pairs along her spine, close together at her bottom, splitting as they went up her back to form a slender V-shape. The twin tails extending from the top pair were long enough to hold Barra, and still wave their fangs about freely.
Vallor strictly enunciated each word before beginning the next. “So busy looking ahead. No idea what was going on behind you.” Vallor hesitated, sniffed at Barra and grimaced. “And you’ve been chewing grappabark.”
Barra huffed a few times toward her own nose, and noticed the sweet dark smell, pungent and thick. Wrinkling her nose, she said, “But that could have been anyone.”
Venress Starch raised a brow. “It was you.” She smiled, lines of tiny sharp teeth exposed, and said, “Now what are you going to do?”
Abruptly, Barra fought back. She squirmed, pushed, and kicked, but the Haggidon only held her tighter. Barra’s fur, slick as it was, couldn’t slip her free from Vallor’s grip. But then something new happened. The muscles that controlled Barra’s fur for stealth were reacting instinctively, pushing against Venress Starch’s hold.
Vallor pondered her captive, suspicious. She suddenly felt like she was trying to hold onto a water snake. The tighter she gripped, the more she thought the bup was going to squirt free. But Barra didn’t recognize how close she was to escape, and she gave up. Vallor asked, “Well?”
“Please let me go?” Barra asked begrudgingly.
“Humph,” Venress Starch grunted, disappointed. She released Barra without warning, and the bup fell a short distance before lashing out with her tail and pulling herself onto a branch below. Vallor dropped down beside her. “Well, at least your reactions have improved.”
The two walked and climbed together for hours. Venress Starch identified shrubs and flowers and noted each one’s utility. They examined some of the gardens, the plots that were chewed out of the boughs and filled with wood pulp in order to grow and feed special plants. Barra usually enjoyed her walks with Venress Starch, but she was having a hard time paying attention. She couldn’t stop thinking about her father’s journal.
“What’s wrong?” the old Arboreal asked Barra with deep concern.
But Barra dodged the question. “Nothing, I’m just tired I guess.”
Vallor knew there was more to it, but offered another excuse instead of pressing the matter. “Maybe hungry, too? Midday is long past.”
Barra was astonished to hear the time. She hadn’t even noticed the flowers of the Coppice changing over to their afternoon cycles. The middle of each day was marked with an exotic cascade as some plants closed and others opened, colors and shapes metamorphosing throughout the treescape. The display was especially beautiful in the Coppice because of the specialized flora that grew there.
“Why don’t you go? Look for some food, and maybe I’ll look for you, later.” Vallor blinked slowly, respectfully, at the distraught Listlespur—her way of saying goodbye. Without further hesitation, she lifted herself up into the branches overhead and disappeared.
Barra couldn’t find anything she wanted to eat, but the gurgling in her stomach won out, and she made her way to one of the many food gardens in the Coppice. Tory was there with another Rugosic named Juddol, and they were arguing about something.
Clearly happy to change subjects, Tory called out, “Barra! Hey, over here. Sit with us.”
Barra clambered up to the two bups and sat between them. “Did you eat yet?” Tory offered a handful of spiderfruits. The nuts were gray sacs suspended in cushions of crunchy webbing made from a sweet resin. Barra was happy to take half and popped them into her mouth all at once.
Juddol rolled his eyes. “We were talking?”
“Sounded more like arguing,” Barra muttered while chewing.
Without blinking, Juddol stared at Barra with the most emotionless, flat expression he could manage. Barra smiled widely back, making sure to show the contents of her mouth.
“That’s attractive,” Juddol said, wrinkling his face in disgust. Turning his attention to Tory, he promised, “We’ll pick this up again later, Mafic.” He stood up gracelessly and loped away.
Tory waved goodbye like he was in the New Ring Parade. Barra swallowed emphatically. “What was that all about?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said. After a moment, he went on, “He saw me helping Marley—you know, the Bellbottom from the Mangrove Tree? Her family is making a den near mine. Anyway, he saw me helping her with some bindings and—“
“And he’s jealous?” Barra interrupted. Her face twisted up like she’d bitten into something rotten.
Tory replied with nonchalance, “I guess. I mean, he does have a point.” Tory gestured to himself. He waited for a snarky response, but none came. The despondent Barra seemed to have mentally drifted away.
Tory was a little concerned, but he popped the rest of the spiderfruits into his mouth and waited patiently. When he decided he’d waited long enough, he spoke up, “What’ve you and Venress Starch been doing today?”
Barra blinked rapidly a few times, and said, “Not much. The usual.”
“Are you, uh, okay?” Tory asked, skeptical.
“Oh yeah, definitely. I’m fine. You know, I think I’m still hungry. Where’d you get the spiderfruits?” she said as she stood up.
“I’ll show you. Come on,” Tory said.
As they walked together, Tory described the garden he was taking them to see. A spiderfruit bush required lots of water, and he’d helped create a base that could support one. He was proud of his work. Barra tried to show that she was impressed, but she wasn’t able to muster much enthusiasm. She was too distracted.
At the garden, Barra ate her fill, and then after a short but strained silence, she said, “Tory?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Do you ever think about your mom?” Hearing her own words out loud, she shook her head immediately. She tried again, “I mean—of course you think about her—but like, how do you imagine—“
“Tory! Barra!” It was Plicks. He came shuffle-running up to the pair with something large in his hands. “I’ve been looking for you all over the place! Look what Ven Tadafell gave me!” He held up a large lensleaf, not as big around as the one Barra had seen that morning, but huge nonetheless.
Tory responded first. “Wow, that’s great, Plicks!” He was genuinely impressed. Tory had a special affinity for bindings, but he had developed an interest in almost everything in the Coppice. Barra leaned in to inspect the lensleaf, and nodded emphatically.
Plicks was so excited he wasn’t sure what to do next. He hadn’t gotten the reaction he wanted from Barra, so he was frantically thinking of how to impress her. “Here. Here, let me show you,” he said, and scuttled between his friends into the garden. He held the lensleaf by the edges between his small hands, careful to keep his talons from scratching the surface. Looking at one magnified plant after another, he kept shaking his head as though none of it was good enough.
“Oh, oh! Here! Look at this!” he exclaimed, and held the lensleaf steady while standing to the side.
The entire surface of the lensleaf had turned fiery orange. After a moment of confusion, Barra looked around to the see the subject regular-sized. Sitting on a broad, green leaf was a fiery orange insect. It had a narrow body and a long neck with an oblong head perpendicular to it. The insect was only slightly larger than Barra’s nose!
The bups examined the magnified display closely. They could see every detail of the exoskeleton: its pores, segments, and pigmentation, even the veins in the folded wings.
Plicks explained proudly, “You are looking at the rare Aridifolia Tricopterus.” Inspecting the subject closely, he nodded and said, “She’s female. You can tell by the number of segments in the abdomen.” After thinking for a moment, he added, “They’re usually found deep in the Middens. Maybe she’s here for the spiderfruit? It doesn’t grow around here normally, right?”
“No. No, it doesn’t,” Tory confirmed, still mesmerized.
Barra gazed curiously into the lensleaf. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing.
There was strange, dark webbing oozing out from beneath the insect’s wings. The stuff was difficult to spot, even enlarged. Plicks tried to get a better view and Tory and Barra had to jockey for position to see around his furry head and large ears. “I don’t know, I’m not sure.” As Plicks spoke, the Aridifolia spread its wings. Threads of black ooze were revealed, gumming the wings to the body of the poor insect, grounding it.
“Barra, you know where the closest bellflower is, don’t you?” Vallor had approached the bups from behind, undetected. She startled them all, seeming to appear out of nowhere. She was watching the insect carefully. Barra took only a moment to grasp her request, and she nodded and dashed away without a word.
“Where’d you come from? Uh… where’s she going?” Tory asked of no one in particular, but Barra came back before anyone answered him.
Barra held a large bulb-shaped plant with her tail. The bellflower had thick translucent walls that were shaded peach and lined with thin green veins. The bellflower wasn’t a flower at all, but a segment from the eponymous vine that grew it. Barra had already drained the bitter fluid from it so that it could be used as a container. Holding the bulb next to the insect, she pursed open the narrow stem. Venress Starch guided the insect into the bulb with gentle waves of her hand.
Plicks clutched his lensleaf close to his chest and asked, “Do you know what that sticky oozy stuff is?”
“I don’t. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, but I’ll take her home and see if I can help. She certainly doesn’t look well,” Venress Starch said. She added confidently, “I know a thing or two about the Aridifolia Tricopterus. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” As Venress Starch spoke, Barra thought she was hiding something behind the dismissive attitude.
“You’ll let us know?” Plicks asked. He rotated the lensleaf in his hands anxiously.
“Definitely. Barra knows how to find me,” Vallor said as she pulled herself up with her tails, and then she swung away.
The three friends stood together, somewhat stunned. Tory was the first to speak up, “That was odd.”
Barra squinted and nodded as she said, “Suspicious, you mean.”
“Well, that’s not what I meant. But, sure, yeah, suspicious,” Tory said. He didn’t know what to make of it all, but he could tell Barra had some idea.
Plicks could see the idea taking shape in his friend’s mind; he knew her too well. Looking back and forth between Barra and Tory, he hoped he was wrong. Instead, he saw Barra raise her eyebrows to Tory, and the Rugosic smiled back slyly.
“Aw, come on…” Plicks said, but the deal was done. He heaved a sigh. “Okay, but I’ve got to stash my new lensleaf at home first.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Vallor stood alone in her den contemplating the bellflower. She held the container carefully with both tails assuring there was no escape for the insect. Shuffling over to her garden plot, she looked over her wyrmwood. The thick stump of a plant had a few stubby branches, but was otherwise a leaning cylinder. It had a sheath of rich brown papery bark covered with dark-purple buds. She nudged one. Sluggishly, the petals of the bud unwrapped, revealing they were actually wings. The creature rolled down the side of the wyrmwood, and then flew up in a sudden, agitated flash. It was a Rush, furry and round with a button nose, deep-violet eyes, and ring-shaped ears. It flew around the den in quick, short bursts. Eventually it settled, hovering steadily at eye level with Vallor. Many ribbon-like tails danced beneath it as three sets of rapidly beating wings kept it afloat.
Rushes are fast, their wings galvanized by unique nectars found in distinctive flowers throughout the Great Forest. They have to drink often, so they instinctively keep a perfect map of the flowers they sample. But their favorite and most potent fuel is the cultivated sap of the wyrmwood. Most Arboreals keep one well-tended in their dens.
“I have a message for Doctor Fenroar,” Vallor began.
“Fenroar? Fenroar. Yeah. Got it. Know exactly where he is. Exactly. Don’t you worry.” The Rush flitted around the den in a blur.
She held up the bellflower. “Tell him I need this insect tested right away.”
“Yep. Need it tested right away. Got it,” the Rush confirmed, talking fast and blinking even faster. He flew around the bellflower, sizing up the package from several angles. “Yep, yep. I got it. Totally can do. Yep.” He licked his lips between words with flicks of an extraordinarily long tubular tongue.
“You sure?” Vallor was dubious.
The Rush stopped a paw’s width from her face. He hovered there, perfectly still except for the flashing of his wings. He narrowed his deeply saturated violet eyes. “I got it,” he said, miffed.
The Rush landed on the bellflower and steadied himself expertly as he tested the surface with his glassy, needle-like claws. Satisfied, he buried his claws deep, flexed to secure his grip, and then displayed his wings broadly. They were iridescent underneath and spanned a length greater than the distance from his nose to the bottom of his tails. In an instant they vanished, flapping faster than the eye could see. Vallor released the bellflower, and the Rush floated up, then down, and then back up again, straining.
“I got it, I got it,” he said to the once again dubious Vallor. Righting himself, the Rush licked his lips, and then flew from the den.
Venress Starch shuffled into her kitchen, turning her back to the doorway, and Barra slid down from where she’d been hiding, stealthed. She snuck back out unnoticed. She met up with Plicks and Tory a short distance down the pathwood where they were waiting for her.
“Did you have to go back in there?” Plicks clicked his talons together as he spoke.
“Relax. She didn’t see me. Besides, it was worth the risk,” Barra hinted.
Plicks waited, but Barra didn’t continue, and he finally asked, “Well?”
“She’s not keeping the Aridifolia with her tonight,” Barra reported, wide-eyed. “She Rushed it to Doctor Fenroar’s!”
Plicks considered a moment, and then gave up and asked the obvious, “Why’d she do that?”
“I don’t know,” Barra said, clear she thought it was a very good question indeed.
“Who’s Doctor Fenroar?” Tory asked.
“I don’t know.” Barra’s eyebrows were raised, leading.
“What’re we gonna do?” Plicks was frustrated.
Barra let her excitement out all at once, “Wanna go spy on Doctor Fenroar?!”
Plicks was exasperated. “Why do you always want to get us in trouble? Tory?”
But Tory wasn’t worried. “Sounds fun,” he said with a wink.
“Great!” Barra said, “Let’s go!”