The Enchanted Greenhouse(9)

“How did you get here?”

She pointed the way she’d come. “Through a door, which I was very lucky to find. It’s cold outside, and I wasn’t prepared for—”

His expression lightened. “Oh! It’s you! It worked!”

She blinked at him. It’s you, he said. But Terlu had never met him before and had no idea who he was or how he’d know who she was. “I’m sorry?”

He was smiling at her, and it was dizzying to be smiled at after everything that had happened and all the shouting and accusations from before she’d been changed—the last sorcerers she’d met had been less than friendly. There had been a lot of scowling from the balconies in the courtroom. But this sorcerer looked happy to see her. He also looked remarkably handsome, even more handsome the longer she looked at him. He had gorgeous gold-and-black hair—jet-black streaked with gold that matched the golden sheen of his skin—and eyes that were as green as the cat’s wings. He hadn’t shaved recently, and his speckled-gold almost-beard looked soft enough to pet.

“Do I know you?” she asked. “Do you know me?”

Still smiling, he pointed his finger at her. “You’re the statue.” He had short fingernails with soil stuck under them. She’d never seen a sorcerer with dirt under his nails, but he had to be one if he’d cast the spell that restored her. Unless he wasn’t the one who had cast it? She hadn’t found anyone else. It had to be him. “You woke up.”

“Yes, I did,” Terlu said. Was she not supposed to? Maybe it had been a mistake and that’s why she’d woken alone and in the cold.

He marveled at her. “I didn’t think it was going to work.”

Terlu felt herself begin to blush, knowing her lavender cheeks were deepening to a vivid magenta, which made her blush harder. She’d never been looked at like this before. He was staring at her as if she were a wish he’d been granted—gazing at her with his deep-as-the-sea, beautiful green eyes. “You were the one who restored me? Thank you so much. I … Thank you. Really, I am so very grateful.” She’d feel even more grateful if he’d point her toward a snack. Or better yet, a very large meal with at least half a loaf of bread. Would it be rude to ask for food so soon after he’d restored her life? She wasn’t certain about the etiquette of these kinds of situations. Some sorcerers were known to be fussy. “I thought the transformation was going to be permanent. I didn’t expect to ever be human again. To breathe, to smell, to talk—you have no idea how great it feels to be able to fill my lungs again after so long!” She cut herself off before she waxed on too long about the joy of having lungs and a heart and a nose. Just having skin again was glorious.

He walked in a circle around her, as if checking to see if any of her was still wood.

“How.…” Terlu swallowed hard. She needed to ask how long it had been, what today’s date was, but she couldn’t make the question come out of her throat. She wasn’t ready to hear the answer. She knew, deep in her bones, that she wasn’t going to like it. Instead, she asked, “Why did you save me?”

“Because you’re a sorcerer.”

“I’m not a sorcerer,” she said. “You are.”

His smile faded. “I’m not a sorcerer.”

“But you restored me. That requires a spell. You have to be a sorcerer.” It was illegal for anyone else to work magic. If her trial and punishment had made anything clear, it was that. It didn’t matter the kind of spell, the intent of the caster, or the results; the emperor refused to allow anyone who didn’t have the proper training to attempt any spellwork whatsoever.

“I was sent the spell, along with the statue. You, I mean. You were the statue, weren’t you? You aren’t trying to trick me?” He was scowling now, his eyebrows low and his forehead crinkled. His eyes were still beautifully green despite the scowl, and she told herself firmly that she shouldn’t be noticing that, especially while he was accusing her of trickery.

What sort of trick could she possibly—never mind. It didn’t matter. She had far too many more questions to ask. “Yes, I was the statue,” Terlu said, “but who sent me to you? Who are you? And where is this? It’s not Alyssium. I would’ve heard if there were such an extensive greenhouse anywhere in the capital. Which island is this, and why am I here?” He wasn’t looking at her as if she were the sun and moon anymore, and she missed that. Actually, he looked a bit like a wild bear when he scowled. A handsome golden bear still, but not a happy one. She added, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You’re supposed to be a sorcerer,” the gardener said.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

“Then what are you?”

“I’m a librarian.”

“Oh.”

He stared at her, and she stared at him. I’m usually much better at this sort of thing, she thought. She’d mangled this conversation from the beginning. I shouldn’t have hugged him. Taking a breath, she marshaled her thoughts to begin again. She’d start over, introduce herself, ask her questions one at a time, and then—

With a humph-like grunt, the handsome golden bearlike gardener picked up his basket and his bag of tools. “You should rest. Whoever you are and whyever you’re here, you went through a lot. Rest and eat.”