The Enchanted Greenhouse(50)

“I think she’s tougher than she looks,” Yarrow said. “Like you.”

Terlu barked a laugh. “I’m the least tough person I know. I was so unable to handle being a little bit lonely that I broke imperial law.”

He shrugged as he pried the muffins out of the tin and arranged them on a plate. He wrapped a few in cloth napkins, embroidered with vines. “People were cruel to you, and it didn’t make you bitter. What else would you call that?”

“Na?ve? Needy? Pathetic?”

“Strong,” he insisted.

Yet again, Terlu felt speechless in front of him.

Yarrow handed her a wrapped muffin and her red coat. “I’m heading into the greenhouse. Do you want to come?”

“Ah … Yes. Sure. Of course.”

Wow, he was being friendly. And kind.

Outside, fresh snow blanketed the forest, covering their footprints from last night. The sky was a soft dove gray, and a lone bluebird sat on a branch and sang.

“Why don’t the birds leave for the winter?” Terlu asked. “Why not go someplace warmer?” Her island always had an influx of birds every winter. She loved when they arrived, filling the skies and covering the roofs.

He shrugged.

“You feed them.”

“I like to bake; they like to eat.”

“You take care of every plant and every bird, every living thing on this island,” Terlu said. “Who takes care of you?”

Another shrug. Him and his shrugs, she thought. She never knew shoulders could talk so much. “I don’t need taking care of,” Yarrow said. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m grown.”

“That has nothing to do with it.” As they reached the door to the greenhouse, Emeral flew from the treetops into Terlu’s arms. He nestled against her, instantly purring.

“Who did you have looking after you?” Yarrow challenged.

“No one,” Terlu said.

He held the door open, and she and Emeral went inside.

“But if I had,” she added, “maybe I wouldn’t have ended up as a statue.”

They walked through the greenhouses, with Yarrow pausing to check on various plants. He pulled a few weeds from a flower bed, pinched dead blossoms from a petunia, and examined the leaves of a bush that was covered in white berries.

After he stopped to fuss with a perfectly healthy-looking clump of daisies, Terlu asked, “Shouldn’t we check on Lotti and the others?”

“Yes, we will.”

He straightened, and they continued to the next room, where he paused to re-pot a plant, shifting it from a smaller clay pot into a larger one, where it had space to expand. Its leaves flopped over the sides of the pot. As he watered it, he seemed to feel that Terlu was watching him, and he glanced up at her.

Gently, she asked, “Are you delaying?”

“No.”

She waited.

“I don’t know what we’re going to find,” Yarrow admitted.

“Come on. Lotti will be waiting for us.” She led the way, with Emeral curled, as usual, around her neck like a furry and feathery scarf. She ignored her own imagination, as it helpfully supplied her with all the ways it could have gone wrong after they left last night, starting with the others being cruel to Lotti and including all of them reverting to catatonic states as her spell failed for some unknown reason that she couldn’t fathom but could still be possible.

She took a deep breath as she opened the door, and then the chatter from within hit her like a wave. Grinning back at Yarrow, Terlu stepped inside the sentient plants’ greenhouse.

All the plants were clustered on the walkway, their pots abandoned. The ivy was in a coil like a snake, and the thistle was laughing, its leaves quivering and its burrs bobbing back and forth. Bits of soil fell off its soil ball, wrapped in roots.

“This is how humans dance!” the daisy cried, and it bounced in a circle with its petals flapping as it waved its leaves up and down.

The fireweed cackled, nearly falling over.

“No, it’s more like—” The thistle trotted on its roots, while shaking its purple flower back and forth as if it were a head bobbing to a drum beat.

Lotti laughed and clapped her leaves together. “Yes, that’s it!”

“How about this?” the ivy offered. It spiraled up into a column and then swooped down and began undulating around the other plants while they laughed and cheered.

“Guess they survived the night,” Terlu said, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the dancing plants. Survived and thrived.

“Terlu!” Lotti screeched. “Yarrow!” She hopped toward them, and the other plants hurried to circle excitedly around the two humans.

The winged cat let out an affronted hiss at the chattering and laughing plants before he launched himself off Terlu’s shoulders toward the rafters. Perched above them, he began to lick his feathers, while glaring disapprovingly down at the mobile flora.

Lotti bounced around Terlu’s ankles. “You missed Viria telling us about the time Laiken almost mixed up wild carrot and hemlock.”

Terlu wondered which one was Viria. Except for Lotti and Dendy, they hadn’t shared their names. She opened her mouth to ask.

“Both have clusters of white flowers,” Yarrow said, “but the stem of a wild carrot is covered in little hairs, while the stem of hemlock is smooth. Also, hemlock is poisonous.”