The Enchanted Greenhouse(37)

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Lotti asked.

Terlu noticed it didn’t have a handle or a knob. “It’s a puzzle.”

“You don’t need me for this,” Yarrow said. “I’m of more use tending to the gardens than playing with Laiken’s toys.”

“You know how to open it, though, don’t you?”

“You have to align the pieces.”

“How?” Lotti asked.

“Carefully,” Yarrow said.

If the rose had eyes to roll, she would have. “You don’t know, do you,” Lotti accused. “I thought you’d come here before.”

“Not in a while,” Yarrow said. “Self-sustaining ecosystem. It doesn’t need me, while plenty of other rooms do. Give me a minute—I’ll remember.” He crossed his arms and stared at the door.

Terlu studied the plates, some silver and some bronze, but all of them ovals. It reminded her of the scales of a fish. “Maybe they’re all supposed to point the same direction?” She began to rotate them. “Or silver in one direction and bronze in the other? No, that’s too simple.”

“Ooh, maybe they’re petals,” the rose said. “Make them into flowers!”

“A chrysanthemum,” Yarrow said suddenly. He pointed to the center of the door. “All the petals point out from the heart of the flower. Technically, chrysanthemums are a composite of many flowers—disk florets in the center of the bloom and ray florets on the perimeter—but the effect is one massive bloom with concentric circles of petals. See, I knew I’d remember.”

“Because I reminded you,” Lotti said. “I am obviously the brains of this operation.”

Stifling a laugh, Terlu didn’t point out that Yarrow had been about to leave. She rotated the “petals,” beginning in the center with a circle that pointed out and continued on. As she worked, the winged cat flew off her shoulders and up to perch in the rafters. He began to groom himself.

“White and yellow chrysanthemums can be brewed into a nice tea,” Yarrow said. “It’s best if you use closed buds and add honey.”

“One of my friends is a chrysanthemum,” Lotti said darkly.

“You can harvest the flowers without harming the plant.”

Three circles done. She started on the fourth. Some of the petals were easy to twist and others rotated so smoothly that they promptly flopped to point downward. She fixed the ones that had drooped and finished the fourth circle.

“I hope you ask permission first,” Lotti said.

“Always,” Yarrow said.

Terlu loved that he said that with complete sincerity. He probably did ask. While she squatted to finish the petals at the bottom of the door, he aligned the ones at the top.

As she turned the last petal, she heard a click, then another click, then another. One by one, starting at the center, all of the petals lifted, until it truly resembled a flower.

All three of them （four, including the winged cat） stared at the door, waiting for it to open. It just sat there, looking decorative.

“Huh. That was anticlimactic,” Lotti said.

Terlu pushed on the center of the door, and it swung open. Inside was what looked like another world. Above, the sky was amber with ripples of green, like the aurora to the far north, and ahead was a pine forest—or no, a wall of evergreen. There were no gaps between the trees. The needles wove together in a thick mat that allowed no hint of light. She stepped in and marveled at it. It stretched as far as she could see in either direction.

“How is this a maze?” Lotti asked.

Yarrow grunted. “You’ll see.”

Terlu and the rose walked （or hopped） through the doorway. Yarrow moved to close the door behind them—and the winged cat swooped through. “Catch him!” he shouted.

But Emeral was already soaring up toward the amber-and-green sky.

“Well, that won’t be good,” Yarrow commented.

Peering to the left, Terlu tried to see any break in the evergreen. It appeared endless, but in the far distance, she thought she saw two figures, a tall one with black-and-gold-streaked hair and a short and plump one with a mess of brown curly hair. She pointed. “Us?”

“Mirrors,” Yarrow said. “He replaced the windows with mirrors, and that”—he waved at the ceiling—“is an illusion. We’re still inside a greenhouse. Just a very large one.”

“But how do we get into the maze? Is it right or left?”

“Neither,” he said. “Straight ahead.” He scooped up the rose, then marched forward directly toward the needles. Lotti gave a little shriek, and the trees scurried back as Yarrow reached them, lifting their roots out of the ground to retreat.

Reaching out a leaf, Lotti poked at a branch. The evergreen didn’t react. Terlu followed the two of them through the gap in the pine trees.

Ahead of them was a maze of sunflowers. Green stalks stood side by side, forming the walls, while the enormous flowers drooped, their brown faces ringed with brilliant yellow petals. It smelled mildly earthy, no strong floral scent, mixed with a hint of pine.

“Hah! This is easy!” Lotti said as she scurried down Yarrow’s torso and legs to the ground. “You just needed someone little like me to figure it out.” She headed for the space between the stalks.