The Enchanted Greenhouse(54)

“Heee kept building more, expaaanding the greenhouse, thinking if he could make it graaander and graaander then Ria would waaant to return. The dayyy that the supply ship brought news thaaat she’d died … The news broke him.”

“That’s so sad.”

“Saddest waaas he kept thinking she’d return, and he haad to keep this island safe for her. He becaaame afraid that others would destroy the greenhouses. He didn’t see that others loooved them too. Or that others had loooved her too.”

“You miss her.”

“Alwayyyys.”

“And Yarrow? Does he miss her?”

“Heeeee was not yet born, when sheeeee died. This happened looong aaaago. Laaaaiken never forgaaave and never forgot. We plaants remember aaand forgiiive.”

They fell quiet, and Terlu examined two more notebooks that Dendy had selected. One was focused on fruits and vegetables—spells to make healthier potatoes, spells to keep pests away from peach trees, spells for making pumpkin seeds taste spicy—but the other one looked to focus more on maintenance of the greenhouses themselves. From what she’d translated so far, there were multiple techniques he’d tried to ensure the right humidity levels and maintain the temperature …

As she read, carefully jotting down her own notes, Dendy began to sing. He had a soft, furry kind of voice, and he swayed his leaves with the melody. It was an old island folk song about a mermaid and a merman who befriended a child. She half listened as she read.

It was pleasant and peaceful. There was nothing better, in her mind, than reading with company. She didn’t need constant chatter, but the companionship … that she craved. She turned another page—

The door to the tower flew open. Both of them startled. Yarrow stomped inside. He shook himself to shed the stray snow that had fallen on him.

Terlu jumped up. “Is everything okay?” Was Lotti all right? Were the other plants—

“Can I stay here for a bit?”

“Of course, but what—”

“They talk.” He sank into Laiken’s desk chair. “They don’t stop. I just … need a few minutes.” He put his face in his hands.

She tried to suppress a smile as she returned to her reading. He may have fled the talkative plants, but she noticed he didn’t go to his own empty cottage—he’d come here to be alone, with her. He wasn’t the loner he pretended to be. He was just … shy.

That was a nice discovery.

The day wore on.

Dendy reviewed more books on the shelf, choosing a few while discarding the rest, while Terlu continued her research. Yarrow puttered around them, hauling in firewood from outside and rebuilding the fire. Pulling two potatoes out of his pocket, he put them on the stove to bake.

Outside, there was a rising chatter of voices—frantic. She turned as something thudded against the door. Another thud, and Yarrow hurried to open it. Terlu joined him.

“You found me,” he said with a heavy sigh.

Behind him, Terlu asked, “Is everything okay?”

All the plants began speaking at once, their voices overlapping in a cacophony that made it impossible to distinguish individual words. Lotti pushed to the front of the swarm of greenery and shouted over them all, “You have to come! A greenhouse is dying!”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The plants led the way—running, hopping, tumbling over one another. It would have been comical if Terlu hadn’t seen the look on Yarrow’s face. With Dendy galloping beside her, she kept pace with Yarrow, and they raced into the greenhouses.

Through the roses.

Through the ferns.

And into the greenhouse that Terlu had walked through on her first day awake, the one that should have been dripping with humidity. It was overflowing with greenery, every inch filled with fat leaves and tangled vines, but the air felt chill. Above, Terlu instantly saw what had gone wrong:

The sun had died.

She remembered this greenhouse had had a false sun at the peak, so intense that she’d had to squint to look at it. Now its cupola was a smoky gray, like a hearth soot-stained after years of fires.

The dragonflies, the ones who had danced around the sun with their diamond bodies and golden wings, had all already fled. She didn’t see a single one left in the dying greenhouse.

Snap.

A crack spread up a pane of glass, branching as it reached up toward the cupola.

“I have to save the plants,” Yarrow said.

“Tell us what to do,” Terlu said.

“Us?”

Terlu looked at Lotti, Dendy, Risa, and all the other sentient plants. She didn’t want to speak for them, but if she was any judge—

“Me,” Lotti said.

Dendy said firmly, “Us.”

The others shouted their agreement, then fell silent, trembling, frightened but ready. Terlu felt a swell of pride for them. Only a day ago, they’d been caught in an enchanted sleep, and now they were eager to spring into action, to work together to help others.

Yarrow looked at them for a half second as if he wanted to say more, then he nodded. “Last time this happened, the greenhouse temperature plummeted to subzero and then rose to scorchingly hot—the enchantments don’t just fail; they go awry. We have to get as many plants as possible out before that happens. Including yourselves. Do you understand? Don’t risk yourselves.”