The Enchanted Greenhouse(66)

“Which one blooms in sunshine?”

He handed her a bud with wool-soft leaves. “Common primrose. Usually blooms pale yellow. Prefers light shade and moist, loose soil, but can thrive in full sun.”

She traded out the evening primrose bud. “Try again?”

He gazed up at the stars for a moment and then nodded.

Terlu cleared her throat and recited the spell a second time, with the new ingredients in her hands. Above, the deep blue cleared, and the stars faded. Lemon yellow spread across the glass, and at first she couldn’t tell if it was from the inside or the outside, but it continued to brighten into an amber so glaring that she had to squint.

“Not primrose vulgaris then.” Yarrow began to sort through the other primrose buds.

The third try toned down the yellow. Ordinary sunlight streamed through the glass, and Terlu made notes as to what they’d done differently, noting the exact species of primrose. “The key is: Did it seal the glass?”

This was essential to restoring the greenhouses, perhaps the most important step. If the structure could be fixed and fortified, with the cracks mended, the glass sealed and reinforced, and the entire edifice fully insulated with a barrier that both protected the walls from damage and stabilized the temperature within, then she could focus on figuring out the spells to control the heat, water, and humidity so that species from different climates could exist within, regardless of the external weather. But first the structure itself had to be mended.

He crossed to one of the windowpanes. She followed him, watching as he laid his hand on the glass—and the glass melted under his hand into water. It poured over his fingers and down the other panes. And then:

Whoosh.

Pane after pane dissolved. They waterfalled down the walls—

“The spells!” Terlu cried.

She ran toward the center of the room, where she’d left her papers with all her notes and spells on the ground. Gathering them up as quickly as she could, she hugged them to her chest.

A second later, the ceiling dissolved. Terlu shrieked, curling around the spells, as water crashed down, soaking them. Yarrow opened his coat and swooped at her, shielding her with his coat and his body. She leaned against him, the spells crushed between them, as water, along with the snow that had collected on the roof, slammed down on both of them.

A minute later, it was over. Only the steady drip, drip, drip remained. She peeked out from around his coat. “Well,” she said, her voice trembling, “that didn’t work exactly right.”

His chest began to shake.

She realized he was laughing.

Terlu checked the spells. They were rumpled but dry. As to the ingredients … they floated in the half inch of water that covered the greenhouse floor. “I don’t have the training for this. You deserve a real sorcerer, not a librarian who thinks she can study her way to any solution. I’m sorry.”

He pulled her closer. “Don’t talk like that.”

“What? But I flooded the place.”

“You tried. No one else would have tried. And you’ll try again, right?”

“Yes, of course I will.” Freezing water had splashed into her boots and soaked her socks, but she felt his arms warm around her. Tilting her head, she looked up at him. He was smiling down at her, the same look he’d given her when she’d first arrived, before he knew who she was, except now he knew all she was and all she’d done. “Wait, you want me to try again? After this?”

“I still trust you.”

Terlu gawked at him, at the hope in his deep green eyes. She was aware she was pressed against him, his arms around her. He was drenched, his hair dripping onto his coat, his coat dripping onto the floor, but his chest was warm and dry. She’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly. He was smiling at her, and she stared up at his lips. Wet, his lips looked like molten gold. She wondered if they’d taste golden. “That’s not really logical, given how badly I just failed.”

He shrugged, and she felt his whole body move. “You made magic.” He stepped back and began gathering up the damp ingredients. Suddenly, she felt cold, and she wished he hadn’t moved away. “Tomorrow, try again in a different greenhouse? With dry clothes?”

“Sure.”

She wished she’d dared kiss him instead of talking more, but she helped rescue the remaining waterlogged ingredients, and then they splashed through the greenhouse and out the door.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Terlu was chilled to the bone by the time they reached Yarrow’s cottage. Within her wet socks, her feet felt like blocks of ice. Coming inside, she shed her coat.

“You can lay your wet clothes by the fire,” Yarrow said. He added more logs to build up the flames. The fire sizzled where he dripped on it. Immediately, he stepped back and stripped off his wet shirt.

Before, whenever he changed, she’d politely looked away or she’d been in the washroom, but this time, he’d acted so fast that she was looking straight at him. He was … wow. So many muscles. Broad shoulders, yes, she’d noticed that with his clothes on, but she hadn’t seen his bare chest or bare arms. She stared at the way his arm muscles flexed as he shook out his shirt and draped it on a chair near the stove.

She hadn’t realized she’d made a sound—a chirp-like peep—until he looked over at her. Blushing hard, she pivoted to face the bed and pet the winged cat. “Nice kitty.”