The Enchanted Greenhouse(78)
As she trotted down the snow-covered road toward the sea, she heard voices from the dock—multiple voices, male and female, young and old. She tried to squash the temptation to pivot and flee into the forest, taking the plants to safety. How many people had just arrived? And what would they think of the plants, of her, of Yarrow and the greenhouse, of the island of Belde? She felt a tendril of fear wrap around her throat and squeeze.
Why are they here?
Ahead, as the pine trees parted, she saw Yarrow silhouetted against the sea and sky, looking down at the dock, the boat with silver sails, and the cluster of people climbing off it. Puffing, she joined him. The sun glinted off the ocean, and Terlu had to squint to see faces. With the exception of the sailor Marin, she recognized no one, though she supposed that shouldn’t have been a surprise, given that there were lots of strangers in the world. Really, the odds that she’d know any of these arrivals were astronomically low. “Who are they?” she asked. And where was Ree, the wax myrtle bush who loved the sea and had left with the sailor?
He glanced at her, then his eyes widened. “Um…”
She glanced down at herself, wreathed in greenery.
Dendy waved a leaf at Yarrow. “Heyyy. Hooow’s it going?”
Maybe this wasn’t the best way to greet the new arrivals, especially before she knew what had happened to Ree, whether these people knew about Belde’s sentient plants, and if any of them were going to instantly turn her over to the nearest imperial investigator to be re-statue-ified. “How about you all go to Laiken’s tower until we determine if they’re friendly?” Terlu suggested. She set the plants down, and they scurried over the snow toward the tower. She watched as Dendy rose up on his root ball to open the door with his leaves before asking Yarrow, “Do you think they’re friendly?”
“Oh yes,” Yarrow said grimly. “They’re friendly.”
That sounded like the opposite.
She heard the memory of the courtroom drums, as fast as her heartbeat.
On the dock, the boat with silver sails was disgorging person after person. Marin straddled the dock and boat, helping each person climb out. A second sailor, a man with startlingly purple hair and two crystalline horns that curled in spirals from the top of his head, was hoisting out boxes, bags, and suitcases. At least a half-dozen arrivals stood on the dock already, with crates and suitcases piled around them.
“They’re my family,” Yarrow said. “My entire family.”
“Oh! That’s … great? Isn’t that great? They’re okay!”
He didn’t move. “They’re here. That’s not okay.”
From below deck, a shrub popped up. He scurried over the deck and climbed nimbly up one of the lines to the mast. He’s fine too! Terlu grinned. “It looks like Ree delivered the letter.”
Granted, she hadn’t expected so many to come in response. One maybe, if they were lucky. A spare cousin or an unemployed aunt. Really, she’d expected a letter back with advice—or excuses for why they couldn’t just pick up their lives, travel across the sea, and abandon their homes, jobs, and dreams just to save some flora that they’d already given up on, especially in the midst of political upheaval. She watched as Marin unloaded a mirror, a chair, and a hatstand, passing each item to the new arrivals. What did it mean that all of them had come? What exactly had happened in the capital? “It, um, doesn’t look like they’re here for a visit.”
“It looks like an invasion,” Yarrow growled.
Clustered on the dock, the group ranged in age from a knee-high toddler to an elderly man with a cane. One woman was helping the man with the cane down the dock. She had gold-and-black hair that was braided and coiled on her head, the same strikingly colored hair as Yarrow. Terlu glanced at him—he was scowling, bearlike, but she could see the family resemblance. She wondered if they had the same sea-deep green eyes.
“My sister,” Yarrow said, “and my father.”
That should be a good thing, shouldn’t it? Why didn’t he sound as if it was a good thing? She’d thought he missed them, from his reaction to the cottages and, well, every time he mentioned them, or maybe she’d just been projecting her own feelings onto him? He wasn’t particularly easy to read. “I thought you were worried about them.”
“I was, but they could have sent a note. That would have been enough.”
But wasn’t this better? Didn’t he want to see them? Talk to them? Tell them how he felt now that he knew they were safe … On the other hand, this was Yarrow. “Ahh. Okay. Are you going to…”
His face was stiff, and his hands were clenched into fists.
Now he was easy to read.
“Why don’t you want to greet them?” Terlu asked quietly. “What don’t I know?”
Yarrow shook his head. “You know everything. They left.”
“I thought you said the sorcerer Laiken made them leave.” Was there more to the story? Had his family not left Yarrow on good terms? Had they not said goodbye? She knew they hadn’t reached out after they’d left. Maybe that’s it? “He took away their jobs, didn’t he? They didn’t have a choice.”
“Everyone has a choice.” He pivoted, his back to his family, and he scowled hard at the snow-covered pine forest, at the greenhouse cupolas that rose above the tips of the trees, and at the sky. He hasn’t walked away, but he certainly isn’t happy. She remembered her initial impression of him: a bear, now angry at being woken from his hibernation.