The Enchanted Greenhouse(118)

All of the gardeners had plans, and winter was the perfect time for dreaming.

“I thought we could add an extra celebration to the Winter Feast plans?” Terlu suggested. “Something that acknowledges that the glass has all been fixed?” She shielded her eyes from the sun. It reflected off the fresh blanket of snow, glittering so hard that it made her eyes water.

Helping his father first, Yarrow scooted over the roof and climbed down the ladder. A few rungs from the ground, he jumped off and landed near her. “How about a confection made of sugar glass?”

She’d been thinking a toast or some kind of speech, but that was a much better idea. “I don’t know what that is, but it sounds wonderful.”

He held the ladder while his father climbed carefully down. When Birch reached the bottom, Yarrow helped steady him. Chuckling, Birch said, “I’m probably too old to be climbing on roofs.”

“I told you that,” Yarrow said mildly.

“It sounds better when I say it myself,” Birch said.

Yarrow grunted.

“Will you two be joining us for dinner tonight?” Birch asked as he reclaimed his cane from where it had been leaning against the house. “Rorick caught some stripe fish, and he wants to grill them all while they’re fresh.”

“You mean he wants to show off how many he caught,” Yarrow said.

“Exactly that.”

Yarrow glanced at Terlu and lifted his eyebrows.

She shrugged. Whatever he wanted was fine with her.

“Not tonight,” Yarrow said. “But if there’s leftovers, save some for Emeral.” He took Terlu’s hand, and they walked back toward their own cottage.

“You have plans for tonight?” Terlu asked.

“Zucchini, squash, and tomato sliced thin, seasoned with thyme, salt, and pepper. I already have dough on the second rise so we can bake a loaf to have on the side.”

“If you already prepped all that, why even consider joining the others?” Terlu asked.

He shrugged. “I thought you might want to.”

“Not if the dough is already on a second rise.” She liked spending lots of time with lots of people, especially ones who enjoyed each other as obviously as Yarrow’s family did, but a fresh loaf of Yarrow’s bread? And an evening alone with Yarrow? She’d never say no to that. “I attempted another variation of the spell today.”

“Oh?”

She told him about what she’d tried and what had happened, as well as her ideas for what to attempt next. He listened as they both went inside and shed their coats. Crossing to the kitchen counter, he began slicing the vegetables and arranging them in a skillet. She built up the fire and put a kettle for tea over the flames.

Seated at the table near Yarrow, she added notes to her notebook—she’d begun her own journal to match Laiken’s, though hers wasn’t in code. She was aiming for a clear and organized record of everything she’d discovered about the greenhouse spells, which was rather more than her lack of progress with the bubble spell showed.

Terlu had successfully extracted several of his spells: the sunflower maze, for example, as well as the singing plants. She was confident she knew the spell for creating more sentient plants, which she had promised herself she’d use if and only if the other plants asked her to. But the trickiest spell of all remained the convoluted spell that he’d used to create the greenhouses. It was woven from multiple other spells. Granted, she was making strides in understanding how the threads were interconnected, but it could require a lifetime of study before she could recreate what Laiken had done to enchant the greenhouses. At the very least, though, she was going to leave clear notes for whomever continued her work after her. In the meantime, she’d also discovered a spell that would let her swim with the sea turtle without needing quite so much oxygen.

There was so much to learn and so much to do. And so much to eat and feel and think and be! It still left her breathless sometimes to think how close she came to missing all of this, to never even taking a full breath again, much less having a full life.

Yarrow shaped the loaves and loaded them into the brick oven to bake while he cooked the vegetables on the skillet. The scent of herbs and cooked tomatoes filled the cottage, and Terlu breathed it in. “Smells incredible,” she said.

“It’s an experiment,” he said. “See what you think.”

“I like your experiments. They’re much tastier than mine.” Setting the table, Terlu poured water for each of them and added icicles as stirring sticks. She dropped a fresh mint leaf in each glass.

When the vegetables were done, he served them onto two plates. He spooned the rest into a serving dish and placed the skillet in the sink to soak.

“Go on, eat.”

She picked up a forkful, blew on it to cool it, and then put it in her mouth. Flavors exploded over her tongue, and every herb filled every bit of her. “It tastes like summer.”

“That’s what I’d hoped.”

While she ate another bite, he checked on the loaves. Taking them out, he thumped the bottom. Satisfied, he set them aside to cool while he returned to dinner.

They alternated between talking and not talking. When a loaf had cooled enough, he sliced it and served it with his dragon-approved honey butter.

“You should make this for the Winter Feast,” Terlu said.