The Enchanted Greenhouse(110)

She smiled. Of course he feeds the mice.

“Faster if we stick together,” Birch said.

“Everyone else split up,” Yarrow pointed out.

“All right, yes. I want to spend time with you. I know you have responsibilities and have become accustomed to shouldering them on your own, but I, like Rowan, believe you have been deliberately avoiding me.”

“I have.”

Terlu almost laughed—that was such a Yarrow response. She checked behind the box of tools before reporting to Yarrow and Birch. “I think this room’s clear.”

After marking the door with an X in charcoal, per Lotti’s idea, so the others would know it had been searched already, they moved on to the next greenhouse, which was filled with cacti and other succulents. Several were orbs covered in needles. Some had thick arms that reached toward the sky. A twisted tree with spikes dominated the center of the room, slicing the view of the sky. Above, a false sun dried the air, and she felt it sink into her skin, sucking out the moisture within her, making her feel as baked as a honey cake. The air tasted of sand, gritty on her tongue. She zigzagged through the greenhouse, sidestepping the spiky tree’s needle-coated branches, while Yarrow circled the perimeter. She finished her check and joined Yarrow by the door.

“I’ve been through all these rooms countless times,” Yarrow said. “I would have noticed a pile of shells.”

He was right. Still, it had to be here somewhere … unless she was wrong about the spell entirely? The ghost had implied she was correct. “You weren’t looking for it,” Terlu said. “Maybe that’s why you didn’t see it.”

Birch planted himself in front of Yarrow, effectively blocking the door. He thumped his cane on the ground. “She’s right. Sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of us. Yarrow, I owe you an apology.”

“You want me to talk to you? Then help, don’t hinder. Keep searching.” He marched past his father. He added a charcoal X to the door, threw it open, and stomped through into the next greenhouse.

Mumbling an “excuse me,” Terlu slipped past Birch to join Yarrow.

Birch followed them. “You don’t have to accept my apology, but I want you to know that I am sorry. When I left … There’s a lot I wish I could unsay.”

Turning stiffly to Terlu, Yarrow said, “I’ll check the supply boxes. You walk the perimeter. Maybe you’ll see what I missed.” Ignoring his father, he stalked toward the corner with the boxes. She heard the lids slam open and then shut.

Birch trailed after him.

Terlu didn’t know if she admired Yarrow’s father for not giving up or wanted to yell at him for pushing too hard, too soon. She circled the edge of the greenhouse. This one had flowers that she didn’t recognize, bell-like blossoms that rang like wind chimes as she walked past them. One larger flower was shaped like a cymbal. She touched it, and it echoed with a brass-like note.

She heard Birch say from across the greenhouse, “You know I didn’t want to leave you behind. I thought with time, you’d come to your senses and join us in Alyssium.”

“I see how well that worked out for you.”

“At least in Alyssium, we were together! You could have been with us, with your family, instead of becoming a hermit here on this dying island—”

“Stop.”

Birch sighed heavily. “I am doing a terrible job of apologizing.”

“Yes, you are. I told you—I don’t need you to say any of this. I don’t blame you for leaving. You were sick. You couldn’t stay.”

“You blame me for not coming back.”

“I don’t blame you for that.” Yarrow slammed the supply box shut. “I blame you for everything before that.” He stalked out of the greenhouse without a backward look.

Birch slowed when he reached Terlu. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

She didn’t know what to tell him. Maybe Yarrow needed time? Or maybe he needed space? Or maybe he needed the opposite. She tried to think of something helpful to say. It sounded as if Birch wanted to make things right but had no idea how to do so. She knew that feeling. Gently, she asked, “Are you apologizing for his sake or your own?”

“I just want things back the way they were.”

“Maybe they weren’t great the way they were?” Terlu said. She was aware this wasn’t her conversation to have, and she didn’t want to accidentally make anything worse. On the other hand, there wasn’t much worse she could make it. Yarrow had already left. “He hasn’t told me much about his childhood, but there was one story, about his uncle Rorick and a ‘game’ where he was abandoned in the caves?”

Birch blinked. “That? He was fine.”

“He was a kid, and he was scared.”

He dismissed it. “It was a long time ago. He can’t still be angry about that.”

Terlu tilted her head and stared at him. Yarrow wasn’t still angry about the cave specifically, but he clearly saw it as representative of how he’d been treated. Abandoned, over and over.

“I can apologize for that, but I think he’s overreacting,” Birch said. “He was always overdramatic. In fact, that’s exactly what we were trying to fix. We wanted to teach him to be more self-reliant.”