The Enchanted Greenhouse(25)

Ignoring the puddle, Yarrow knelt by the table, eye level with Lotti. “You’re … By the sea,” he swore. “You’re one of Sorcerer Laiken’s creations. I thought that all of them—” He cut himself off. “Is there anything you need? Fresh soil? More nutrients?”

Using a kitchen towel, Terlu started to mop up the puddle around the pitcher. She then intercepted Emeral as he began to stalk toward the table. Scooping him in her arms, she cradled him and petted his cheek. Liking that, he folded his wings and purred.

“I’m quite well as is,” Lotti said, sounding mollified. “I’m not a high-maintenance plant. I can take care of myself, now that I’m awake. If I have access to water. And if I’m not torn apart by a vicious feline.”

Lifting his eyes, Yarrow looked at Terlu. “I knew you had to be a sorcerer!”

There was so much hope in his face that she wanted to say she was, just so he wouldn’t stop looking at her as if she were the first star in the sky, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you lied about. It was one thing to tell a library patron that their hair looked nice when it didn’t; it was quite another to claim you were a different kind of person entirely. “I’m not,” Terlu said. “And I didn’t break any laws. I didn’t cast any spells. All I did was give her some water. She came to life on her own. She must have just been dormant.”

His face fell, and she felt as if she’d disappointed a puppy.

Emeral squirmed in her arms.

“Can you please control your monster?” Lotti asked.

Yarrow opened one of his kitchen drawers and took out a roll of red ribbon. Unrolling it, he dangled it in the air. Eyeing it, Emeral launched himself out of Terlu’s arms at the ribbon. Yarrow released it, and the cat flew up into the rafters with his prize.

“Clever,” Terlu said.

Lotti slapped one of her leaves against the table. “Can we get back to talking about me? What were you about to say about Laiken’s creations? You thought all of them were what? You need to finish that sentence. No, never mind. Just take me to Laiken. He’ll explain it all.”

Terlu met Yarrow’s eyes. He’d said that name earlier. Laiken was the sorcerer who’d made these greenhouses, the one who had dismissed Yarrow’s family, the one who’d died and left his creation to decay and fail.

“I can’t … He isn’t…” Yarrow ran his hand through his hair.

He’s not going to find the words. She gave him a moment more, but he continued to look as if he wanted to disappear out the door and vanish into the snow. Gently, Terlu said to Lotti, “He passed away.”

“He … When? How?” she squeaked. “No, it can’t be true. Of course, it’s true. His workroom … It’s full of dust and cobwebs. I should have known as soon as I saw it. Oh, my Laiken!” The rose’s petals tightened, closing her into a bud again.

Yarrow glanced at Terlu as if he expected her to know what to say.

Tentatively, Terlu asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lotti widened her blossom and shouted, “No! I do not want to talk about it! I want to meet the sorcerer in charge, whoever inherited the greenhouse from Laiken. Take me to them!”

Clearing his throat, Yarrow said, “There hasn’t been a sorcerer since Laiken. He never took an apprentice or a partner or named a successor. He wouldn’t allow anyone new on the island. He didn’t trust anyone else not to destroy what he’d built.”

Lotti’s petals drooped. “He got worse then.”

Terlu sat on a chair beside her. “What do you mean?”

She sighed heavily, her leaves shaking. “I wish I’d been there, at the end. He might have listened to me. Oh, you should have seen him when he was young! He was like sunshine just to be near. He built this place as a gift to the world.”

“I didn’t know him when he was young,” Yarrow said. “He was already over one hundred when I was born. In the time I knew him, he didn’t listen to anyone.”

“He only wanted to protect us,” Lotti said. “All of us and all of this.”

Terlu knew some sorcerers were long-lived, but even if Laiken had expected to never die, it was still unforgivable that he’d left Yarrow here with a massive, sprawling greenhouse to care for all by himself. He could have trained an apprentice or left arrangements for another sorcerer to care for the island’s enchantments or even simply hired more gardeners. It was too vast for one person, with or without magic, and no one should be asked to shoulder such an enormous burden on their own. It was far too much responsibility. Endless work with no reprieve.

“I must have been asleep for a long time,” Lotti said softly, sadly. “I don’t know you, either of you, which means he must have let me stay dormant … a very long time.”

Yarrow nodded.

“I just arrived,” Terlu volunteered. “You wouldn’t have known me.”

Lotti wiggled her roots around to face her blossom toward Terlu. “And your first act was to wake and abandon me? Don’t think I have forgiven you for that, because I haven’t.”

“I…” How did she explain she’d been afraid? That wasn’t an excuse. She’d been cruel to leave Lotti like that, especially since she knew better—she knew how she’d felt waking alone and confused and cold in the forest. “I’m sorry.” The words felt insufficient.