The Enchanted Greenhouse(4)

More snow soaked through her tunic. Pushing with both hands, she rocked forward into a squat. “Steady,” she said. “You can do this, Terlu.” Her voice was stronger now, only wavering a little. Slowly, she stood. Her knees wobbled, and she grabbed on to the branch of the nearest tree. Its bark bit into her palm, but she didn’t fall.

She shivered as the cold seeped into her skin. Wouldn’t it be terrible if she finally was restored to human and she froze to death immediately? Yes, it would. Whoever restored me can’t have intended me to freeze.

Whoever restored …

Of course! There had to be a sorcerer nearby who’d cast the spell to free her. Probably they just didn’t know that their spell had taken effect already. As soon as they realized it had, they’d show up with blankets, coats, hot chocolate, and a really excellent explanation for where she was and why she was here, and she could thank them from the bottom of her soul.

“Hello!” Terlu called. “I’m…” What was the word? Awake? Alive? Fleshy? She didn’t want to shout that she was fleshy. “I’m here! Over here! Hello?”

She waited for someone to answer, but no one did. The snow fell as soft as a whisper, and the wind brushed against the branches, making a shush, shush sound. It felt as if she were the only living soul in the forest, but that couldn’t be. Someone had to have been responsible for the spell that revived her, so where was that someone?

“You did it!” she called. “You saved me! Yay! Can you come out so I can thank you? Really, I’m very grateful! And also cold!”

Still, no one answered.

Terlu wrapped her arms around herself, but it didn’t help much. She tried a hesitant step forward. Her legs shook like a baby deer’s, but she kept herself upright. She took another step and then another. Ahead was the glint she’d seen between the pine trees. She aimed for that, since every other direction was just trees and snow.

Why would anyone cast a spell to restore her and not stick around to see if it worked? It was irresponsible spellwork, that’s what it was. At the very least, the sorcerer could have pinned a note to her that said, “Just have to duck out for a quick bite to eat. Be back soon.” Or they could have left a sign telling her which way to go. Or an arrow. It wouldn’t have been so hard to make an arrow out of rocks or stray pine cones: This way to warmth and food!

Unless whoever it was didn’t want her to find shelter?

What if this was a strange part of her punishment that she’d somehow not known about? She had been in shock at the verdict—well, no, not at the verdict. She had been one hundred percent guilty. She hadn’t expected, though, for the punishment to be so severe. No one had. Terlu thought of Rijes Velk arguing for leniency … but they’d wanted to make an example of her, and that was that. She’d been wood-ified. Or should that be solidified? En-statued? There wasn’t a proper verb for it, which bothered Terlu—if you were going to do a thing to someone, there should be a verb for it, and if there wasn’t, you should reconsider doing it at all.

Snow fell harder. It swirled around her, and she held her arm in front of her face to keep it from flying into her eyes. It was ankle-deep between the trees, and she had to march her feet, lifting her knees up high, to make progress. The pine trees were clumped together with branches that poked her skin every time she brushed against one.

Ducking under a thicker branch, she knocked into it with her back, and an armful of snow fell onto her neck. She yelped and scooted forward. So soon after her reawakening, she wasn’t ready to react to anything that fast—she fell forward onto her knees. All the air rushed out of her with the jolt, and pain shot through her knees.

Tears pricked her eyes. “Hello? Anyone? Please! I need help!”

Refusing to care, the snow continued to fall.

Gritting her teeth, Terlu picked herself up and stumbled onward. Pushing another branch aside, more carefully this time so the snow didn’t dump on her again, she stepped out of the forest into a clearing.

Ahead of her was a window. Many windows. A wall of windows, framed in black iron that curled delicately around the panes in branch-like patterns. The structure was massive—at least three stories high and so wide that she couldn’t see its corners. Tilting her head back, Terlu looked up and up to a glass cupola on the top. Snow fell on it.

Stumbling forward, she reached the glass wall and pressed her hands against it as she looked inside. It was cool but not icy, and she noticed there was no frost on the panes. Instead the glass was cloudy, as if hot air inside had fogged it up. It’s warm inside, she realized. Gloriously warm! All she could see through the foggy glass was a tangle of shadows. And … green? It was filled with green.

It’s a greenhouse, she realized. An enormous greenhouse in the middle of the woods. It had to belong to someone, even if it was dark inside. If she could find the owner, perhaps she’d find her rescuer?

Not that they were a very good rescuer, leaving her out here in the cold. She’d forgive them, though, if they let her inside. I’ll forgive them instantly. They’d made her flesh again. Knocking on the glass, she called out again, “Hello! I’m out here! Please let me in!”

She walked along the glass wall, knocking as she went. It had to have a door, didn’t it? Or a window that opened? I suppose I could break the glass. But that would let the cold inside, as well as her, and what would the owner think of that?