The Enchanted Greenhouse(109)
I can’t go back to being a statue. She wouldn’t. Not now, and not ever.
If she had to leave Belde, she’d do it. She’d summon Marin. She’d flee as far as she needed to, even if it meant leaving this place that she’d grown to love.
Yarrow wrapped his arm around Terlu’s shoulder. “If anyone has an issue with this—”
“Oh, hush,” Rowan said to him. “You think we really didn’t know that one of you two has been working magic? We’ve all seen the plants fixing the glass—Laiken never taught them spells. It had to be one of you.”
“Nice job with that,” Uncle Rorick said.
Others nodded.
Terlu looked at the faces around her. None of them looked alarmed or appalled. “But … it’s illegal … You don’t … I mean…” It was the opposite of how people had recoiled from her after she’d created Caz. Why weren’t they ready to condemn her? “I don’t understand.”
Rowan asked, “Have you ever used magic to hurt anyone?”
“Well, no.”
“To hurt any plants?”
Intentions hadn’t mattered in her trial in Alyssium … She blinked, suddenly feeling like crying. “Absolutely not. I’ve just been trying to help.”
Dendy said, “She saaaved us.”
“So you’re righting a wrong,” Rowan said, hands on her hips. “Fixing a mistake made by someone else. I think that’s admirable.” She glared at her relatives, as if daring them to disagree.
Coming up beside her wife, Ambrel agreed. “We aren’t in Alyssium anymore. The emperor’s gone, and his laws don’t reach here anyway. You’re not going to be punished for what you did out of kindness.”
Terlu had thought that way once before. She’d felt safe in the library, and she’d been convinced that no one would punish her for creating Caz—he was so very obviously a good thing. Adding life to the world couldn’t be bad, she’d told herself at the time. She’d thought she would be forgiven, once it was understood that her intentions were harmless and innocent and even kind.
I was selfish, though, she thought. Unlike here, she hadn’t woken Caz for his own sake; she’d done it for herself, because she was lonely.
Perhaps what she’d done here was different enough? She was trying to save life that already existed. And she wasn’t doing it for herself. Or at least not just for myself. She couldn’t believe anyone would have wanted her to leave Lotti or Dendy or any of the sentient plants asleep. And how could she turn her back on the failing greenhouses and the dying plants when there was a potential way to stop it?
“You’ve nothing to fear from any of us,” Rowan said firmly. “Right?” Hands on her hips, she glared at the rest of her family. She had, Terlu noticed, just as bearlike a glare as her brother and father.
Yarrow’s father, Birch, spoke up. “You’re looking after the greenhouses. That makes you a gardener. Like all of us. None of us want the greenhouses to fail.” He looked at Yarrow as he added, “We all want what’s best for our plant friends. For our family.”
She was certain that Yarrow’s father’s words weren’t directed at her at all. But that was fine. At least, for now, she had a reprieve. She didn’t know if they were right about Alyssium and the reach of imperial law, but for now, it didn’t look like anyone was going to stop her from doing what she could to save this place. She felt her chest loosen, and she blinked hard to keep tears from welling up.
I can trust them.
His family hadn’t rejected her, even after learning the truth.
Maybe mine won’t either.
From the rafters, Lotti called out, “All right. Enough mushiness, everyone. We’re going to be orderly about this. Plants will take the eastern greenhouses. You and you—head west. You lot, start in the north. As you finish, put a mark on the door so we don’t repeat efforts. Use charcoal to make an X. No time to waste. Move, everyone!”
* * *
Yarrow knew every inch of the greenhouses that required daily care. For those rooms, it was quick work to skirt the perimeter, peek into any toolsheds or supply boxes, and investigate the interior of the enchanted stove, if there was one. Terlu searched with him, careful to watch for any corners that Yarrow might dismiss due to familiarity. The plants checked all the rafters.
A few of Yarrow’s relatives had picked the same direction to search, but they branched off when the paths did, until it was only Yarrow’s father, Birch, who stuck with the two of them as they entered a greenhouse that overflowed with vines that danced like ribbons in the breeze.
“Never liked this room,” Birch said. “Reminds me of snakes.”
Yarrow snorted. “They’re beautiful in their own way. So are snakes.”
“But why enchant them at all?” Birch ducked under a writhing mass of leaves. Above him, several vines braided themselves, knot after knot. Leafy green mice scurried over the braids. “Why not just let them be ordinary plants?”
“I think they’re pretty,” Terlu offered. Standing, she brushed a vine off her shoulder. It snuck back, trying to wind around her wrist. A mouse chittered at her, as if scolding her for resisting, or perhaps requesting cheese.
Yarrow unpeeled the vine from his thigh and said to his father, “You could search one of the other rooms, if you don’t like this one.” He reached into one of his pockets and scattered crumbs onto the walkway. Several leaf-covered mice chirped and raced down the braided vines to feast on the bits of bread. One mouse had a single bright orange leaf in the middle of green leaves. It shook itself, and the orange leaf fell to the ground, a bit of fall foliage.