Page 65 of Dancing for the Minotaur

“Let me see–I think the vegetable stalls are over here,” Terex rumbled. “There are several things I must buy for my stew.”

He tugged gently on her hand, leading her toward a huge moss-green tree with deep maroon leaves bigger than her head. As they got closer, Terra realized that what she had taken for a collection of ordinary market stalls arranged around its base weren’t really stalls at all.

There were no wooden counters, or metal supports and no plastic awnings or folding tables like she would have expected at an Earth farmer’s market. Instead, the enormous roots of the tree had risen out of the ground and twisted themselves into counters and shelves, forming smooth, naturally curved surfaces where the vendors displayed their goods.

Some of the roots had hollow places in them that opened and closed like drawers when the merchants brushed their fingers over the bark, and smaller vines grew between them, forming baskets and bins for the brightly colored alien fruits and vegetables on display.

“Oh my God,” Terra murmured, looking around in fascination. “Even the stores are alive.”

“Of course.” Taurex sounded mildly surprised by her amazement. “It would be wasteful to manufacture structures when they can simply be grown.”

Terra laughed.

“You know, back on Earth, saying you ‘grew your store’ means you increased your sales. But here it means that you literally grew your store.”

Taurex frowned thoughtfully.

“Well, yes. Which is much more sensible.”

“Of course it is.” Terra smiled up at him. “I’m starting to understand why you think most things humans do are unnecessarily complicated.”

“I have been dealing with your tax laws for three Earth years,” he reminded her gravely. “I believe I have ample evidence.”

Terra burst out laughing and Taurex’s mouth curved into a pleased smile, which gave her that same little flutter she had been feeling more and more often when they were together. It seemed to happen especially when she made him smile. The big Monstrum was normally so serious and reserved that seeing his face soften made her feel as though she had accomplished something special.

The first vendor Taurex stopped to see was a Monstrum who looked vaguely reptilian, with dark green scales covering his head and throat and a narrow crest of gold running from the center of his forehead to the back of his skull. His stall was filled with vegetables unlike anything Terra had ever seen.

There were round, bright orange objects with feathery blue leaves sprouting from their tops, clusters of tiny silver pods that shimmered like mercury, and long purple roots covered in pale pink bumps. There were also baskets of what looked like fat, golden tomatoes except that every few seconds one of them gave a faint musical hum.

Terra leaned closer, frowning.”

“Er…did that tomato just sing?” she asked.

Taurex looked where she was pointing.

“That is not a tomato. It is a g’rn bulb,” he said.

“Well, the g’rn bulb just sang, Terra told him.

He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling.

“It is ripe.”

Terra looked at the golden tomato-thing in amazement.

“So they sing when they’re ready to eat?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

Terra stared at him.

“That is incredibly convenient–I’m so jealous! We don’t have any fruits or vegetables that do that on Earth.”

The green-scaled vendor gave a hissing chuckle.

“Earth produce does not announce its ripeness?” he wanted to know.

“No,” Terra told him. “Mostly you squeeze it and hope for the best.”