The steps led down, down, down—far away from the sun, where no flowers should be able to grow. And yet—

“She said the Third-Eyebright would be here.”

The angry red scratches on Trev’s face had only gotten worse since the morning. When the lady stormed into Trev’s shop and whipped out a thorny rose, he had not expected it to come flying at his face. All because she didn’t like her bouquet. The lady couldn’t even pick a good corsage. Amaranths were far too droopy.

“And why are we searching for an imaginary plant?” Joon used their ratty Converse to kick a rock into the darkness.

“Because we have to.” Trev unrolled his sleeves and took a steadying breath of sunshine-filled air. The pink rhododendrons surrounding the tunnel’s entrance seemed to scream, “Beware! Danger!”

“Hey!” A girl burst from the heath in an explosion of pink petals, standing between the two friends and the tunnel. She wore all-green hiking gear with a dandelion pinned to her shirt. “You can’t go in there.”

“You don’t look very scary with a twig behind your ear,” Joon pointed out.

“It’s thyme,” Trev corrected. He didn’t bother mentioning that he’d considered making himself a flower crown for strength—thyme, oak leaves, dill, and lion’s heart.

“You can’t go in there,” the girl repeated.

“Why not?” Trev asked, grip tightening on the branch he’d been using as a walking stick. Chronic joint pain and long nature walks didn’t exactly go well together. Then again, neither did pollen allergies and floristry.

His mom used to gather eyebrights for a compress that would instantly clear up his itchy eyes. They were the first plants he’d fallen in love with. The way their petals bent looked like they were giving the air a hug.

“This isn’t private property. We can go wherever we want.” Joon stepped forward, and the girl launched herself at them. Trev swung his walking stick, swiping her aside with a blow to the gut. The girl clung onto the branch and tugged so that Trev stumbled forward into Joon, who toppled over.

With a frightful battle cry, the girl jumped on top of Joon, straddling their body and pressing the branch into their neck. Trev scrambled over to save his friend when, without missing a beat, the girl whipped out a knife from her belt and leveled it at him. Despite only using one arm to hold the branch to Joon’s neck, she pressed hard enough to make breathing difficult.

“Who are you?” Trev asked, frozen in place by the girl’s blade.

“I’m a Weed.”

Joon’s snort cut off with a choking sound. They tugged on the branch until the pressure let up.

The girl’s words rang alarm bells in Trev’s mind. One of his books about the language of flowers had mentioned The Weeds. Joon had given it to him for his botanical library, but it was so old that Trev hadn’t thought to read it until that morning. He’d wondered why someone would choose a red amaranth as a corsage.

According to the book, The Weeds were known for traveling to extreme locations and resorting to violence to ensure their monopoly on Legendary Flowers. “Please,” Trev said carefully. “Let us through.”

The girl shot him a glare as sharp as her knife. “And why should I do that?”

“The Amaranth Society threatened to burn my shop down.” Trev pointed to the scratches on his face. “I offended them with a bouquet.”

In a footnote on the Love-Lies-Bleeding amaranth, The Weeds were mentioned as the main opponents of the Amaranth Society, “a botanical club which endeavors to locate rare flora for the enlightenment of the human race.”

She narrowed her eyes at Trev. “What flowers did you use?”

“Um, celosia, alyssum, asparagus fern, and geraniums.”

The girl dropped her knife-wielding arm and released Joon with a laugh. Joon took Trev’s outstretched hand and slunk behind him. “You’re lucky they didn’t light you on fire.”

“What’s wrong with those flowers?” Joon asked, still hoarse.

After sheathing her knife, the girl held the branch out to Trev so he could use it for support again. Joon flinched, their hand flying up to protect their throat. “Geraniums mean ‘stupidity.’”

Trev shook his head. “I thought they symbolized ‘confidence’ or ‘gentility.’”

“Not the red ones. You basically called them idiots.”

Trev couldn’t return home empty-handed if he hoped to save his shop, and the Weed worried that the Amaranth Society would continue coming after the Third-Eyebright. So they made a deal. They would find the Third-Eyebright, and Trev could bring back a single flower. That would be enough for the Amaranth Society to test the flower’s effects.

The Third-Eyebright was rumored to give its consumer extra-human sight. Whether that meant super-sensory eyesight or a type of clairvoyance, no one seemed sure.

“So you’ve never actually seen this thing?” Joon asked the girl, who told the florist and his friend to call her Rho.

“Weeds always explore with partners. She’s the one who found the flower.” Rho turned on the flashlight she kept in her belt and led the way down the stone steps. Joon refused to go last, so Trev brought up the rear. “A few days ago, she went back in, and I stayed to guard entrance.”

Joon stopped on the last step. Trev walked into them with an “oof” that echoed around them. “A few days ago? No, nope, we’re leaving.”

As they turned, a football-sized object tumbled down the stairs and burst into a dark, moving cloud. Buzzing filled the air.

“Ow!” Something stung Trev on the neck. Then the shoulder. A bug zoomed past Joon’s ear.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Joon shouted, pushing Rho to move faster. “I hate bees!”

The three of them took off through the tunnel, the flashlight beam bouncing around wildly.

“Those aren’t bees,” Rho huffed. “They’re yellowjackets.”

Trev took the brunt of the yellowjackets’ attack. He was smacking one away from his face when Joon grabbed his sleeve and yanked him into an offshoot of the tunnel. The venom was already making him hallucinate. The tunnel seemed to be glowing.

Two twists and a turn later, they’d lost the yellowjackets.

As they slowed down to catch their breaths, Rho switched off the flashlight. The tunnel really was glowing. A bioluminescent fungus had made its home there.

This offshoot was much rougher than the man-made tunnel, more like a cave, and wide enough for them to walk side by side. The trio’s damp shoes squelched over the wet ground.

With every step, pain radiated from Trev’s aching joints and yellowjacket stings. He would’ve killed for a chair, or some basil leaves.

“Lea never mentioned anything about a cave,” Rho said, pressing a hand to the wall so that her fingers came back glowing.

“Maybe she kept it from you.” Joon reached across Trev to do the same thing. They wiggled their now-glowing fingers in front of Trev’s face.

Rho shushed them and cocked her head. A low moaning sound came from ahead. The sprig of thyme behind Rho’s ear trembled.

Trev’s heart sped up, not from fear, but from relief. “Wind. There must be an exit ahead.”

“Yes! I’m not gonna die down here!” Joon whooped and ran ahead as Rho and Trev followed at a more measured pace.

“I wish we could’ve found the Third-Eyebright,” Trev admitted as they neared the cave’s mouth. He’d thought, maybe, if he’d found it, he could keep some for himself. When he was in school and worried about a test, his mom used to make a bitter eyebright tea that would clear up his mind just as easily as it unclogged his sinuses. Now, pain clouded his mind all the time. Maybe the Legendary Flower could cure that pain. Nothing else had.

The fungus’s glow faded and the cave grew brighter until they rounded a curve into a wall of sunlight. Trev threw up his arm to shade his eyes. When the Weed and the florist exited the cave, Rho’s hands shot up in a gesture of surrender. Once his eyes adjusted, Trev saw why.

Joon pointed a gun at her. Despite its ornately carved handle, the gun looked out of place amidst the greenery and sunlight. Next to Joon stood a regal woman with a drooping red amaranth pinned to her chest. The very same who had threatened Trev. She held a staff fashioned to look like a giant thorn.

From behind the woman, a girl dressed in the same green hiking gear as Rho—down to the dandelion corsage and sprig of thyme—stepped out with another gun leveled at Trev. He mirrored Rho’s surrender.

“You were right, Joon,” Rho said. “Lea was keeping things from me.”

Lea narrowed her eyes but stayed silent.

The woman smiled, her scarlet lipstick the same shade as the geraniums Trev had put in her bouquet. “Azalea here has been infiltrating the Weeds for years.”

“But we didn’t find the flower,” Rho said. “Lea did.”

“I was trying to get you to abandon your post,” Lea spat. “I can’t believe you didn’t come looking for me.”

Trev swayed on his feet, suddenly dizzy, and wished he still had his walking stick. Instead, he leaned on Rho for support. Lea’s gun tracked his movement, though she didn’t see the wimpy florist as much of a threat. “If the plant isn’t in the tunnel, why did you need her to leave?”

“Because the eyebright is at the entrance,” Rho realized aloud.

Before Lea could respond, the Amaranth woman fell backward with a loud cry, a knife protruding from her shoulder. Rho took advantage of the distraction and wrestled the giant thorn from the woman, tossing it to Trev. He tried to swipe Joon off their feet as he’d done to Rho earlier, but Joon merely stumbled back a few steps.

Free from the threat of Joon’s gun, Rho attacked Lea, knocking the gun out of her hand. Lea yanked the thyme from behind Rho’s ear. Rho ducked and dodged and blocked, barely fending off Lea’s offense.

“I didn’t think you had that in you,” Joon said. They reraised their gun, now aiming at their friend. “Smart move, swiping Rho’s knife.”

Seeing it was useless as a weapon, Trev repurposed the thorn to prop himself up.

“I don’t get it.” Joon had always supported his floristry. They’d bought him books and accepted flowers even though they didn’t care much for the outdoors.

“Sure, you do. Superpowers in exchange for drinking some bad tea? Only an idiot would say no to that.”

From behind Joon came a pained shout. “Leave them! Get the Flower!”

Instantly heeding the injured woman’s orders, Joon sprinted in the direction of the cave. Rho gave Lea no such chance. Unable to do anything about Joon, Trev turned his full attention to the fight. The sprig of thyme had fallen out of Lea’s hair in the scuffle.

Lea doubled over from a blow to the gut. Trev called out and tossed Rho the giant thorn. She caught the thorn midair, tackled Lea to the ground, and thrust the thorn through her hand. Lea shrieked, curling onto her side and tugging at the spike that now pinned her in place.

Breathing hard, Rho rushed over to Trev to keep him from collapsing. “Joon got away,” he said. “Go get them.”

“Uh, I don’t think I have to.” Rho pointed toward the cave as a familiar buzzing noise arose. Moments later, Joon emerged, screaming and flailing their arms as the yellowjackets pursued them. The stings on Trev’s back twinged as Joon fled through the field.

As the two weary flower hunters made their way overground to the tunnel entrance, Trev leaning heavily on the Weed, Rho explained, “The Amaranth Society keeps tabs on all up-and-coming botanists and florists. When you gave her that bouquet, she must have thought you knew what they were up to.”

Trev shook his head. “I’m never using red geraniums again.”

-Ryn PB

Note: I originally wrote this for a writing contest that I didn’t win, but I still like it enough to share! Hope you enjoyed!