She’d been right that that was Vix.
“Bring Yarrow if he wants,” Ambrel said.
“Or bring him even if he doesn’t want,” Rowan said. “He can’t keep avoiding us. Or maybe he can. He’s good at that.”
“Rowan,” Ambrel scolded.
“Sorry, but I thought I’d get at least a reunion if not an apology.”
Terlu bristled. He was trying his best! And he’d made honey cakes. Never mind that she’d also expected a reunion.It’s not up to me or Rowan or anyone to decide what he’s ready for.“He was the one left behind,” she pointed out.
“By choice,” Rowan said. She then held up her hand. “I know, I know, he could say it was my choice to leave. I can forgive if he can. But he has totalkto us.”
“Give him time,” Terlu pleaded.
“Humph,” Rowan said.
Ambrel tugged her out of the door. “Come on.”
Following them to the door, Terlu asked, “Out of curiosity, what does Laiken’s ghost think about this—about all of you, coming back?” It felt odd to talk about a ghost, especially the ghost of a sorcerer of immense power, as if it were a commonplace fact.
Wrapping her scarf around her, Rowan shrugged. “Don’t know and don’t care. He’s caused enough problems. I don’t think he gets a say anymore.” She waved as she headed outside with Ambrel and the rest of the honey cakes.
Emeral waltzed in through the door as they departed. He was carrying a fish in his mouth. Depositing it on the hearth, he purred as he tucked in to nibbling at its side.
“Good for you,” Terlu told the winged cat.
Relieved to be alone at last—which was, she thought, a novelfeeling, given how much she used to hate solitude—she pulled another one of the books off the shelves and began to skim through it. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find—a treatise on exactly the information she needed? How had Laiken solved the problem of making the bubble permeable to humans and air but keeping the temperature in? He had to have done it, because it was repeated in greenhouse after greenhouse. She wished she could ask him.
She eyed the stairs and wondered if she could. She’d never met a ghost before. How much did they remember of who they were and what they’d once known? And how much could they communicate with the living?
I could find out simply by going upstairs.
If shecouldcommunicate with him and if he wanted to be cooperative, it could cut her research time down significantly. Perhaps it could even be the key to saving the greenhouse. Or maybe she was just hoping for a miracle.
Leaving the notebook open on the desk, Terlu walked up the twisty, narrow stairs. She felt colder as she walked up and wasn’t sure if it was a ghostly cold or just because she was farther from the stove. Wasn’t heat supposed to rise? It should be warmer upstairs, but instead it felt dark and drab. Like it should have a ghost. She shivered and hugged her arms as she looked around.
Yarrow’s relatives had sprawled their belongings over the upstairs too—heaps of clothes on the bed, a hairbrush on the dresser, a tiny statue of a gryphon on the bedside table—but somehow it still felt gray and unwelcoming. She noticed that no one seemed to have slept in the bed, which was odd. It wasn’t as if Laiken needed it anymore, and it had been years since he’d died. She would have thought practicality would have won over sentiment.
Crossing to the bed, she asked softly, “Sorcerer Laiken? Are you here?”
She didn’t hear an answer or feel anything other than the chill of the room.
“My name’s Terlu Perna, and I’m trying to figure out the spellsto save your greenhouse. The magic is failing, and your plants are dying. If you help me…”
She heard a sigh like the wind in the trees.
“Sorcerer Laiken?” She turned toward the window. Had it been the ghost, or had it been the wind? “Just point me to where I can find the answers. Can you do that?”
Silence.
She began to feel ridiculous. Either he didn’t understand or he didn’t care.Or he isn’t here.She’d never seen a ghost, and she’d certainly never heard of one contributing to anyone’s scholarly studies. Of course if shecouldfind a way to communicate…
Perhaps if she brought a few of the books up here…
“One second. I’ll be back.” It might be a waste of time, but she was certain she’d sensed some kind of presence in his bedroom. If he retained any of his old self, he’d want to save his greenhouse, wouldn’t he?
Terlu trotted downstairs. If he could indicate which book she should focus on—
