Why then was she so nervous?Because I’m breaking the law. Again. Willingly.
The last time she told herself it was worth it and the consequences wouldn’t be extreme, she had been very, very wrong.
This is different.
There was no one on the island who would report her. Yarrow and Lotti both wanted—even needed—her to do this.I’m not in this alone. Not this time.Furthermore, it was the right thing to do. She couldn’t leave these plants in a state of suspended animation. They were supposed to be awake and aware, and if she had the power to restore them, then she had to. She’d already been through all of this, the pros and the cons, the rewards and the risks, and it was far too late to turn back now. She’d promised, and she had no intention of breaking that promise, regardless of the consequences. Terlu took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. She shook out her hands and tried to calm herself.
I am a self-taught sorcerer.
And:
What the emperor doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
Terlu positioned herself in front of the philodendron and began:“Myrd vi se hwathan. Myrd dor a chasacan. Myrd rywy. Alleca-se-ansara…”She spoke each syllable smoothly, as if this were a language she’d learned at birth. The words echoed in her head, a chorus of thought and speech, and she held the philodendron in her mind as she spoke.
Wake. I want to meet you. It’s time to wake.
She finished the final word in the spell.
The philodendron didn’t move.
Lotti shifted closer. “Did it work?”
“I don’t know.” Maybe it took time before the effects were noticeable? She hadn’t asked Yarrow how much time had passed between when he cast the spell on her statue and when she became flesh again, but then that had been an entirely different spell. Maybe this one had a delay. Or maybe it hadn’t worked. Perhaps she’d missed an ingredient. Or she could have translated a word incorrectly—Unlikely,she thought. And all the ingredients were as fresh as they could be.
Perhaps these plants weren’t asleep, at least not anymore. Perhaps too much time had passed, and they were ordinary plants now. Maybe their ancestors had been alive and aware, but that didn’t pass into their seeds. She had no clear idea how that worked. If a plant dropped a leaf and then grew a new leaf, was it still the same plant? Did the seeds inherit the knowledge and wisdom of their elder? If these weren’t actually enchanted plants but were only the children of them, maybe it wasn’t possible to wake—
Across the greenhouse, the orchid yawned.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
All around the greenhouse, plants woke up.
On Terlu’s left, a coil of ivy climbed out of its pot and wound its way, snakelike, up a pillar. The orchid rotated its pale pink-and-white blossoms as if viewing the full greenhouse with its stamen. A daisy bloomed and lifted its leaves in a stretch, while the delphinium bent as if it wanted to fold itself in half.
Lotti danced with her petals in the air. “You did it! They’re waking!”
“But they shouldn’t be—” Terlu began.
On her right, a fireweed burst into flame.
“Fire!” Lotti shrieked.
Yarrow rushed over to it and drenched it with a full watering can. It began to sputter and cough. He knelt beside it while a nearby prickly pear grew a bud that opened into a yellow blossom with a loud, “Eeeeeeee!”
Nearby a chrysanthemum let out a high-pitched yelp.
It worked! It really worked!Except that they were supposed to wake one at a time. Instead, every plant in the greenhouse was stretching and twisting and waking.
The philodendron in front of Terlu was the first to speak. “Sooo.” His voice was deep and slow, each vowel stretched like caramel. “Not. Dead. That’s niiiice.”
Terlu smiled at him. “Hello. Welcome back. I’m Terlu. And that’s Yarrow, helping the fireweed. And Lotti. You remember Lotti?”
Lotti bounded over to the philodendron. “Dendy! So great to see you! I saw you before, of course, but you couldn’t see me, because you were asleep, yet now, you’re awake and so am I and here we both are! You remember me, right? Give it a second. You were just revived. I’m the resurrection rose that visited with Laiken. He’s the sorcerer who created us. You remember him, of course, and if you remember him, you must remember me.”
The philodendron said nothing for a long moment.
“Ooh, hello, welcome back!” Lotti hopped toward a thistle. Its bulbous flower was nearly twice the size of the tiny rose, and it loomed over her atop a thorn-covered stem.
