Page 8 of Florescentia

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the film, then tucked it into my pocket. “People adapt, so should their ideas.”

“I’m not in disagreement, but you know how Astrians are.”

“I know you. Do you believe it is an abomination?”

“You know I’m as moderate as it gets, but it’s not me you should be worried about. More traditional kinds are the problem.”

I waved my hand and grabbed the globe as I began to leave.

“Speaking of . . .” Maxim rushed beside me.

“I’ll visit them soon, I promise.”

“Papà asked for you again.”

“I know.” I bit my lip. “Tell me plainly.” I looked up at him, waiting for his expression to give me any hint. “How is he?”

His features resembled some sort of a wince. Tight jaw, a grimace.

I nodded, a deep breath to keep my eyes dry. The emotional labor would come later, not now. I had to finish my work before then.

Chapter Three

The Nova

The cord snaked around the banister corners, rubbed against the edges of doorframes, and finally went out the back door before it disappeared into the clover, soon resurfacing beside me on the iron garden table.

“Did you see Monty?” Even through the static of the receiver piece cupped on my ear, I could still hear the stress in Dorian’s voice.

“Who?” I looked up at the sky, buildings crowding the view. Old, new, newer, and older. Astraea was a living time capsule in that way, surrounded by the past and present all at once.

A frustrated puff sounded in my ear. “The calico. The one with the white face.”

“Ah,” I muttered. “Not yet, but I’m sure she’ll show.”

“No,” he said firmly, “I need you to go find her. Please, Lucia. What if she is injured? Hungry? The nights may start to get cold.”

“It is mid-Laxamentum.”

“But—”

“Dorian,” I said firmly, “she will show. Strays wander.”

“I know,” he muttered.

“Is this stress coming from elsewhere?”

“Instinct or superstition.”

“Banish it, then.”

“Will you pull a card for me? To ease a worried man’s mind?”

“Everie won’t help you here, sir. The cards tell you what you already know,” I joked, leaning back in my chair as I watched the tiny yard.

As with many townhomes, the backyard was a bonus, but they were usually unremarkable. I did what I could to make it more natural. Clover lawn for softness on the feet, the bees bumbling around the small white buds across the entire patch, with the exception of a few stepping stones weighing down the fluffy greens. Holes in the tall brick surrounding the haven to house birds, if willing. Herbs and cat-friendly flowers to attract strays, and even more flowering vines to hide the unsightly brick. A row of brass bowls by the back door for easy feedings. One small box in the corner to give the creatures shelter.

The goal was to make it completely green and full of color, though it might take some more time and quite a few more plants.