In the Realm of the Midnight Gardener
Chapter 13: The Exchange

When at last they stopped, he knew he was ashen with the tinge of death. The Tindalosi scrutinized him silently. They extended two sacks to him. “Your payment,” they said, handing over the bag of black seeds and the other filled with coin. Domingo stood staring stupidly, needing a moment to realize where he was. Eventually, it all came washing back over him, so he took the sacks, examined his prizes, and handed over the two turnips. He turned to go.

“Wait,” one snarled. Domingo looked back. “What is the secret to their life?” the Tindalosi asked. “How do we keep them from death?”

Domingo could not know why these fiends wanted these accursed plants. Yet certainly, it couldn’t be for anything good. He imagined the Tindalosi imbued with the life-draining power of the blood turnips, reducing other living things to death, turning them into one of their slave corpses. What evil was he unleashing by giving these things to them? He pondered the effect, the power the Tindalosi would now have over his scattered, endangered species, over the Faer and the Ghorl, over the endless varieties of life, even perhaps to the Ixtapodan themselves. The living worlds would be forever changed, and not for any good.

The warning of the tree, the piercing stare of that lambent eye, it churned in his belly. Even in his new-found understanding of the insignificance of it all, he knew a turning point when he faced one. This was a point in the flow of the Source which could set untold horrors and destruction in motion, and he would be the cause of it.

His conscience might have been a worthless shadow in the overwhelming light of his greed, but still Domingo was poked and prodded by it, distasteful as this was. He could feel it chastising him from some smoky corner of his soul where he’d long-since banished it.

“The Tindalosi will surely kill you,” old Juan sniggered. “You will be their eternal enemy, forever on the run.”

Domingo shrugged slightly. “Ah yes,” he said to the Tindalosi, shouldering his satchel now heavy with his reward. “Water,” Domingo explained, turning and walking away. “Make sure to give them plenty of water.”

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