“The tea was lovely!” Calypso called over her shoulder, voice warm and perfectly genuine. “I hope you give me the recipe sometime - there was something floral that I’m sure I’ve never tried before!” There was little doubt in her mind that it was something from the dungeon, something or somethings that she never knew she never knew. She smiled at Fennel walking next to her, trying to convey her gratitude for dinner with her eyes while they were still in audible distance. She didn’t want Velvet to half-hear them, to fear any echoes they might say when not in her company. Calypso doubted anything they said would be negative, but she always worried that others might hear the wrong part of a word and assume the worst.

The pair walked in silence for a time, the night loud with the whispers of the dead rather than the seductive calls of frog and moonbird. “Thank you for sharing your knowledge, my friend,” she finally said, bumping Fennel with her shoulder. “When you mentioned that there were plants you could only find at night during this time of year, I was intrigued. I grew up thinking I knew what could grow and how to grow it. You’ve opened up an entirely new world to me - to us, honestly.” She paused briefly to laugh softly. “Have you met Blueberry? He’s my friend’s son, handsome enough that the earth saw fit to humble his mind. Has a thing for Daffodil, and by thing I mean child. Anyhow, he recently learned how to magic fire - oh, his daddy wasn’t too happy about that, but little Tulip’s been loving to watch the sparks dance.”

Fennel burst out laughing, nearly tripping over her own feet in the moon-touched darkness. “Oh, I’ve met him,” she said with a wan smile, as though admitting she’d done something foolish. “If there’s anyone who I would ‘trust’ with fire…”

“It wouldn’t be him?” the pearl finished, laughter sharpening into what could only be called a cackle. “Hearth and home have mercy on his family.”

The moon shone overhead, growing in size and deepening in color. The harvest moon, a time of celebration and merriment, of fresh love and learning who would keep you cozy during the coming months. The harvest was nearly fully brought in, piles left to help the Harvester convince the spirits to follow him. Calypso looked up at the moon, musing aloud, “You’ve met Blueberry, but… have you ever met the Harvester?”

“I went looking for him once, but never found him,” Fennel admitted with a tinge of sadness in her voice. “In the morning, there was a vine that followed the path I took.”

The bay’s smile brightened, warmth heating hotter. “He saw you! Lucky little thing. I tried to help a dead once, but it just vanished into mist on a perfectly clear night. When the mist was gone, I was standing in front of my home, and there was a watermelon climbing up my house. A watermelon! During harvest! Lasted through the winter, too, even with the snow. The melons that grew the next year were bitter, but the seeds inside… My oh my, I still have people knocking on my door trying to steal my melon seeds. Whole town thought they should get some, cause they’d seen the melon vine once and hadn’t dug it up for me.”

The pale puck cocked her head, apparently lost in thought. “Do you need to go home, then? The crossrook will probably still be growing tomorrow, and I can find it tonight and let you know tomorrow! No need to worry if you need to get home.”

“Aw, you’re sweet as a spoonful of your wife’s appled sugar,” was the only response, and they continued towards the caverns, bathed in the moon’s red glow.