Yarrow knew every inch of the greenhouses that required daily care. For those rooms, it was quick work to skirt the perimeter, peek into any toolsheds or supply boxes, and investigate the interior of the enchanted stove, if there was one. Terlu searched with him, careful to watch for any corners that Yarrow might dismiss due to familiarity. The plants checked all the rafters.
A few of Yarrow’s relatives had picked the same direction to search, but they branched off when the paths did, until it was only Yarrow’s father, Birch, who stuck with the two of them as they entered a greenhouse that overflowed with vines that danced like ribbons in the breeze.
“Never liked this room,” Birch said. “Reminds me of snakes.”
Yarrow snorted. “They’re beautiful in their own way. So are snakes.”
“But why enchant them at all?” Birch ducked under a writhing mass of leaves. Above him, several vines braided themselves, knot after knot. Leafy green mice scurried over the braids. “Why not just let them be ordinary plants?”
“I think they’re pretty,” Terlu offered. Standing, she brushed a vine off her shoulder. It snuck back, trying to wind around her wrist. A mouse chittered at her, as if scolding her for resisting, or perhaps requesting cheese.
Yarrow unpeeled the vine from his thigh and said to his father, “You could search one of the other rooms, if you don’t like this one.” He reached into one of his pockets and scattered crumbs onto the walkway. Several leaf-covered mice chirped and raced down the braided vines to feast on the bits of bread. One mouse had a single bright orange leaf in the middle of green leaves. It shook itself, and the orange leaf fell to the ground, a bit of fall foliage.
She smiled.Of course he feeds the mice.
“Faster if we stick together,” Birch said.
“Everyone else split up,” Yarrow pointed out.
“All right, yes. I want to spend time with you. I know you have responsibilities and have become accustomed to shouldering them on your own, but I, like Rowan, believe you have been deliberately avoiding me.”
“I have.”
Terlu almost laughed—that was such a Yarrow response. She checked behind the box of tools before reporting to Yarrow and Birch. “I think this room’s clear.”
After marking the door with an X in charcoal, per Lotti’s idea, so the others would know it had been searched already, they moved on to the next greenhouse, which was filled with cacti and other succulents. Several were orbs covered in needles. Some had thick arms that reached toward the sky. A twisted tree with spikes dominated the center of the room, slicing the view of the sky. Above, a false sun dried the air, and she felt it sink into her skin, sucking out the moisture within her, making her feel as baked as a honey cake. The air tasted of sand, gritty on her tongue. She zigzagged through the greenhouse, sidestepping the spiky tree’s needle-coated branches, while Yarrow circled the perimeter. She finished her check and joined Yarrow by the door.
“I’ve been through all these rooms countless times,” Yarrow said. “I would have noticed a pile of shells.”
He was right. Still, it had to be here somewhere… unless she was wrong about the spell entirely? The ghost had implied she was correct. “You weren’t looking for it,” Terlu said. “Maybe that’s why you didn’t see it.”
Birch planted himself in front of Yarrow, effectively blocking the door. He thumped his cane on the ground. “She’s right. Sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of us. Yarrow, I owe you an apology.”
“You want me to talk to you? Then help, don’t hinder. Keep searching.” He marched past his father. He added a charcoal X to the door, threw it open, and stomped through into the next greenhouse.
Mumbling an “excuse me,” Terlu slipped past Birch to join Yarrow.
Birch followed them. “You don’t have to accept my apology, but I want you to know that I am sorry. When I left… There’s a lot I wish I could unsay.”
Turning stiffly to Terlu, Yarrow said, “I’ll check the supply boxes. You walk the perimeter. Maybe you’ll see what I missed.” Ignoringhis father, he stalked toward the corner with the boxes. She heard the lids slam open and then shut.
Birch trailed after him.
Terlu didn’t know if she admired Yarrow’s father for not giving up or wanted to yell at him for pushing too hard, too soon. She circled the edge of the greenhouse. This one had flowers that she didn’t recognize, bell-like blossoms that rang like wind chimes as she walked past them. One larger flower was shaped like a cymbal. She touched it, and it echoed with a brass-like note.
She heard Birch say from across the greenhouse, “You know I didn’t want to leave you behind. I thought with time, you’d come to your senses and join us in Alyssium.”
“I see how well that worked out for you.”
“At least in Alyssium, we were together! You could have been with us, with your family, instead of becoming a hermit here on this dying island—”
“Stop.”
Birch sighed heavily. “I am doing a terrible job of apologizing.”
“Yes, you are. I told you—I don’t need you to say any of this. I don’t blame you for leaving. You were sick. You couldn’t stay.”
“You blame me for not coming back.”
