The Enchanted Greenhouse(81)
“Not going to kill her, if that’s what this is for.” Marin’s tone was light, but the look in her eye was serious.
“What? No! I want you to make sure she’s okay. Get her out of the city, if necessary, and take her wherever she wants to go. And … thank her for me? Please?” Terlu didn’t know if the head librarian had survived the violence, but if she had … She saved me while her world was crumbling around her. From what Terlu had gleaned from the chatter of Yarrow’s relatives, it had been terrifying. During the uprising, the area in the city where Yarrow’s relatives had lived had been destroyed. Never mind that many of them had supported the revolutionaries. Fire didn’t care. They’d lost their shops, their apartments, their livelihoods, and had been facing lives as refugees on whatever island would take them in when Marin had found them with her letter.
Marin grinned and pocketed the ruby. “You’re an odd one, but I like your style. If it’s possible, I’ll do it. Good luck with this lot.” She shoved away from the dock. “And tell your gardener that I’ll be back by Winter Feast with his usual supplies, times ten for the new folk, especially if he can get me some zucchini seeds—that’s a promise.”
“Thank you,” Terlu said.
“Ree, hoist the sails,” Marin called.
“Yes, Captain!” the plant shouted, and then he scuttled toward a winch, his branches flapping with excitement. The other sailor, Dax, joined him and together they raised the sail.
Terlu watched them for a moment. Ree, it seemed, had found his place. She hoped the three of them could find Rijes Velk and that, when they did, she’d be safe and well. I’ve done what I could.
As they pushed back from the dock, Terlu trudged back up to the cluster of refugees and tried to smile as if they were ordinary visitors and hadn’t just delivered news that the world had turned upside down.
Yarrow wasn’t even attempting to appear welcoming. He looked as if he wished he could dive into the sea and swim after Marin. Anywhere but where he was right now.
Reaching him, Terlu said, “We should get them all inside where it’s warmer.” She pitched her voice low so that only he would hear.
“Not my cottage,” Yarrow whispered back, a hint of panic in his voice.
“Laiken’s tower?” she asked him. “It’s closest.” Sooner or later, they’d need to meet the sentient plants. Perhaps it would be a reunion for some of them.
“Fine.”
Facing the crowd, she murmured to Yarrow, “Who is who?”
Yarrow’s sister pushed her way to the front. “I’m Yarrow’s sister, Rowan. And this is my wife, Ambrel. My cousin, Vix. My aunt, Rin.” She pointed to each person and named them and then continued on through the crowd. Most were relatives, she said, but a few were neighbors and/or close family friends. The toddler, Epu, was the child of their neighbor, a woman named Pipa with zigzag tattoos on her pale green cheeks. Terlu shoved as many names into her head as she could, using a trick she’d developed when she first arrived in Alyssium—she assigned them each a different bird or animal: a squirrel for cousin Finnel （brown hair and a tiny nose）， a sparrow for uncle Ubri （feathery hair and quick movements）， a duck for cousin Percik （a broad duck-like smile）， an emu for aunt Harvena （beady black eyes and long legs） …
Stepping closer, the older man with the cane, Yarrow’s father, said, “And I am Rowan and Yarrow’s father. My name’s Birch. Yarrow … son … It’s good to see you again.”
She looked at Yarrow, expecting at last here would be the reunion that she was certain he’d been aching for. It had been him and his father for so long, and his father had only left because he’d become too ill to stay. Surely he’d greet him.
Yarrow grunted, and then he turned and walked away, back toward the greenhouse.
“I had hoped he’d forgiven me by now,” Birch said.
She hadn’t known there was anything that needed forgiving. Why couldn’t he have shared more before I wrote that letter? Forcing herself to smile again, Terlu patted Yarrow’s father’s arm. “Come inside, all of you. You’ve had a long journey.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
As Terlu led the way to the late sorcerer’s tower, she spotted a mat of greenery clogging one of the windows. The plants were watching their approach. She waved to them, hoping this was the right choice.
Immediately, the window cleared of green.
A few seconds later, the door was thrown open, and the sentient plants poured out.
And the reunion she’d been hoping for between Yarrow and his family happened between the plants and the people. The greenery swarmed around Yarrow’s relatives, and there were hugs and laughter and chatter. The philodendron, Dendy, climbed up Yarrow’s father, chattering with him, while the calla lily, Viria, laughed uproariously with Yarrow’s uncle Rorick. The toddler, Epu, poked his pudgy finger at Risa, who twisted their vines around him like a boa constrictor. Loving it, Epu giggled. Watching it all unfold, Terlu finally felt as if she’d done something right, possibly.
Piling inside, the people and plants quickly filled the workroom to bursting, but it was at least warm. Everyone began to make space: moving the worktable to the side of the room, positioning the stools and desk chair for the older relatives to easily sit, and scooting aside Laiken’s equipment. Terlu was glad she’d taken the notes and journals she needed back to the cottage for study. The rest were filed neatly on the bookshelves with only a few piles on the table, and she hoped they’d be left alone.